#elvis gif

[ladelinee]

[sissylittlefeather]

The stars lean down to kiss you

And I lie awake and miss you

The silence isn't so bad

'Til I look at my hands and feel sad

'Cause the spaces between my fingers

Are right where yours fit perfectly

But drenched in vanilla twilight

I'll sit on the front porch all night

Waist deep in thought because when

I think of you, I don't feel so alone

As many times as I blink

I'll think

of you

tonight

And I'll forget the world that I knew

But I swear I won't forget you

Oh if my voice could reach back through the past

I'd whisper in your ear

"Oh darling,

I wish you were here"

[lu-in-the-sky-w-diamonds]

Elvis and Me (1985) by Priscilla Presley

[carnevol]

[elviscinema]

“The image is one thing and the human being is another. It’s very hard to live up to an image.”

Elvis Aaron Presley January 8, 1935 - August 16, 1977

[violaobanion]

ELVIS in uniform *:･ﾟ✧

for @sansaorgana

[elv1sstuff]

Hawaii, may 1969🌺🌊🐬

[thewonderofelvis]

In Loving Memory of Elvis (January 8, 1935 - August 16, 1977)

Elvis will always be the King. The reason is simple: he was the greatest singer that ever lived. - Ian Gillan

[hooked-on-elvis]

𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗜𝗦' 𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗠𝗦 · 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦 + 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦

In general the pictures and footage show E softly touching/brushing his bottom lip with the tip of his fingers or with his knuckles, but in some he's biting his fingernails. Either way, that is a guy who knew how to be nonchalantly sexy!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

53. holding the other’s jaw with Greg Nolan please 🫶🏾

A/N: Yessssss Greg!! This is just a little drabble.

Afters

Pairing: Greg Nolan x housewife!reader

Word count: 729

TWs: Reader cries, there's a little bit of dirty talk. Think that's it!

Greg shrugs his jacket on and straightens his tie. “Gotta go, baby.”

You’ve literally just pulled a pot pie out of the oven, and you huff in frustration as you place it on the pot holder. Putting the oven mitts on the side, you smooth your apron down over your dress and try to keep it together. Turning around with your best attempt at a smile. 

“But it’s dinner time, Greg.”

This is the third time this week he’s had to go back to work in the evening. You’re starting to get worried. 

“Sorry, baby. Have to get this photoshoot done.”

He grabs his camera bag and slings it over his shoulder. 

“But I made chicken pot pie. It’s your favourite.” You know you sound whiny but you can’t help it. Tears are shining in your eyes but he’s too busy grabbing the things he needs to notice. 

Stepping towards you, he kisses the top of your head lovingly. “I’m sure it’ll be just as good warmed up later, honey.”

“N-no it won’t!” You exclaim, frustrated and upset. “You know it won’t! It’s better now, just out of the oven!” Tears spill down your face as you rage about the pie, hands balling into fists. 

Greg blinks in surprise. He knows you like to cook, and you like to spoil him with your delicious food, but he didn’t think you’d be so upset about a pot pie. He wipes your tears with a thumb. 

“C’mon darlin’. I promise I’ll love the pie just as much when I come back later.”

You push his hand away, angrily. “It’s not about the pie!”

“It’s… not?”

“You don’t love me anymore, do you? You’re seeing someone else.” It comes out in a rush and you tremble with emotion.

Your lower lip wobbles, and then suddenly you’re really sobbing, body shaking as the tears flow down your cheeks, bringing your hands to your face to try and control it but it’s far beyond control at this point. All of your fears and insecurities come pouring out of you in the form of salty water. You’ve always been a little worried that you’re not pretty enough for Greg, but ever since he started the late nights at work, coming home and going out again, you’ve been convinced that he’s found someone better. No-one needs to do this much photography, surely?

Greg is shocked, letting his bag fall off his shoulder and catching it just in time to place it on the floor. How on earth can you think he doesn’t love you anymore? Because of the pie?

He gently prises your hands away from your face and sets them by your sides, before raising his large hand to your jaw, holding it gently. When you keep looking down, sniffing, he carefully tilts your face towards his. Your eyes find his blue ones, reluctantly. 

“What makes ya think that, baby?” He asks, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. 

You groan. “All these late nights. You can’t be taking photos. Unless they’re photos of some other girl.”

He blinks slowly. Well, he is taking photos of other girls, that’s his job. But he decides now isn’t the time to be literal. 

“I promise you I’m jus’ doin’ my job. The new boss is fussier than the old one and he keeps wantin’ things redone. And tomorrow mornin’ is the deadline for publishin’. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want ta work either.” He looks deep into your eyes as his grip on your jaw tightens. “Can’t think of anything I’d like ta do more than eat your gorgeous home-cookin’ and then put ya between my legs under the dining table for your desert…” 

You stop crying abruptly as warmth spreads between your own legs. “R-really?”

“Really, baby.” His thumb brushes over your lips. “I haveta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can for that dinner.” He wiggles an eyebrow suggestively. “And afters.” Pressing a kiss to your lips he pulls back a little, his hand still on your jaw, making sure he’s got your full attention. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Greg," you whisper, reassured.

“You’re the only one for me, baby,” he tells you as he lets your jaw go, reluctantly, and picks his bag back up again. “I’ll be thinkin’ of ya waiting here for me.”

***

Taglist:

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[sissylittlefeather]

I'm sorry this took me a million years to write @sloppiest-of-jos! Anyway, I hope it lives up to what you were wanting!

Searching for You

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and touch of angst

Word count: ~2.5k

"Elvis, you have a WIFE and a CHILD. Tell me again how you think this could possibly work out?!" Elvis sits in a chair, watching you pace around the room from behind his silver sunglasses.

"Honey, I've told you and told you. Those are my problems, not yours. I love you. I want you." He stands up and walks over to you, taking your hand gently and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. You look up at him and almost melt. Then, you yank your hand away and walk across the room.

"No! This has gone on for way too long." Memories of how you met on the set of the Singer special in '68 come screaming back to you. You think about him noticing you, a humble back up dancer for the bordello scene. He had walked straight to you and asked your name, not even bothering to pretend like he didn't like you. You'd seen him with the other girls and couldn't believe he was actually talking to you. But something about you caught his attention and he wasn't letting you get away. He invited you up to his dressing room after filming was finished and it didn't take long at all for you to end up naked on the couch, squirming as he brought you pleasure you had only ever dreamed about.

That was two years ago.

No matter how hard the two of you tried, you couldn't stay away from each other. The space between you was electric and you made ways to be together as often as possible, despite his marital status and your guilt. You fell hard and fast for him and he insisted he felt the same way, but he never entertained the possibility of ending his marriage.

On this particular occasion, you pace the floor half-dressed insisting this will be the last time. You're leaving California, removing yourself from the equation, and he is not pleased. Once you pull on the rest of your clothes, you point your shoe at him and yell.

"I'm done, Elvis. I'm done with being your back up girl to keep you company when your wife is gone. It hurts too much."

"Honey, it's not like that! You're the one I want! If anything, she's the back up girl."

"Then why won't you leave her?"

"I-I I can't."

"Yeah." You stuff your shoes on your feet and head for the door. "Goodbye, Elvis."

This isn't the first time you've had this argument, by far, but what Elvis doesn't know is that this time you're really leaving. You pack up all your things with tears streaming down your cheeks and head for home. The drive is long, but you've hit the end of your capacity for loving Elvis like this. You wonder how long it'll take him to figure out you're gone. Will he even care?

******

Elvis gives you two weeks to get over this most recent fight, sure that all he has to do is call you when Priscilla goes out of town. But when he does, your phone's been cut off. He hangs up and looks at the receiver in confusion. Surely you didn't actually leave.

He gets in his car and drives to your apartment. Maybe you've just changed your number and he needs to appeal to you in person. But when he knocks on your door, a man he doesn't recognize answers. He gets over his initial wave of jealousy and asks about you.

"Uh, I'm looking for y/n?"

"No one here by that name. Wait are you-?"

"Thanks." Elvis turns and walks quickly back to his car before the guy can ask him for anything.

When he gets back to his house, he calls all of his Memphis mafia into the living room and gives them an assignment. They need to find you and he wants it done yesterday. The guys all look at each other in mild panic and then head out to see what they can do while Elvis sits on the couch smoking a cigarillo trying to process his shock. You're really gone. Where on earth did you go?

******

After a week of Elvis wracking his brain and the guys bribing neighbors and friends, Sonny finally has a breakthrough.

"I was able to get ahold of her best friend at work."

"Yeah, and?"

"She went home to Kentucky."

"Home to Kentucky. Where in Kentucky?"

"She didn't know, but she said she knew it wasn't far from Nashville." Elvis rolls his eyes.

"What the hell does that even mean?! There are a lot of places in Kentucky that aren't far from Nashville. How does she define far?" Sonny looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"I don't know, boss. That's all she knew."

"Goddamnit." Elvis kicks the nearest table and Sonny looks at him hard.

"Might be time to give up on this one." Elvis meets his eyes with his eyebrows raised and then shakes his head.

"No. She's... no." He turns and heads for his bedroom. When he comes back with a suitcase, Sonny tries to stop him.

"Where you goin'?"

"Well, I guess I'm going somewhere in Kentucky that's not far from Nashville."

"You're really gonna go after her then?"

"Yes." Elvis gets in his car and starts on the road East towards Kentucky and you.

******

When Elvis finally makes it to Kentucky, he drives from small town to small town looking for you. He has a picture of you that he took one night that he shows to people. He has lots of pictures of you, but this is the only one appropriate for public consumption. He thanks God that he thought to take one with your clothes on one time. Honestly, it's his favorite photo of you because it's so naturally beautiful, your smile gentle and your hair a little messy from lovemaking.

The more he looks for you, the more it becomes apparent how much he loves you. He's been saying it for a while, but the emptiness he experiences at not knowing how to find you makes him know exactly how true it is. He loves you so much that he's driving around Kentucky just to find you again. How did he think he could give you up?

He's starting to lose hope when he comes across a preacher in a small town called Franklin. Exhausted and hopeless, he shows him the picture of you.

"That's y/n!"

"Yes!" Elvis looks up, shocked. "Do you know her?"

"Of course I do. I baptized her, didn't I?" Elvis laughs and hugs the man.

"Is she here? Where can I find her?"

"I haven't seen her in a long time, but if she's in town, she'll be at her parents' house." He gives Elvis the address just as it begins to rain. For the first time in weeks, Elvis is filled with hope and he decides he'll do anything to get you back.

He pulls up in front of the address that the preacher gave him and his heart beats wildly. He's so close to being with you again. The steady rain soaks him to the bone and he knocks on your front door and waits for someone to open it.

You see him through the windows and panic. How the hell did he find you here?! You know you won't be able to resist him if he talks to you, so you run outside and jump in your car, backing out of the driveway quickly.

But he sees you and tries to run to the car.

"Honey, wait! I just wanna talk to ya!" You focus on the road ahead and step on the gas to get away. Elvis runs back to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, starting the engine and throwing it in drive. He tries to catch up to you, but you're driving like a crazy person. The rain is still coming down pretty hard and he starts to worry about you driving like this. As you head out of town, your car spins off the road into a ditch and he realizes he was right to be concerned. Thankfully, because of the spinning, you don't hit the ditch too hard. He parks and jumps out of the car to run to you. You manage to get the door open and stumble out.

That's when you feel strong arms around you. The familiarity of them makes you cry and you shake with sobs as he holds you. He stands there in the soft rain, stroking your hair and whispering to you.

"You're okay, honey. I've got you. You're okay." After several minutes of this, you pull away from him and yell.

"What are you doing here Elvis?!"

"I needed to see you."

"Why?!" He pushes a piece of rain-soaked hair behind your ear.

"Because I love you, baby." You look up at him, your eyes wide as the rain continues to fall on you both.

"No! I'm not falling into this with you again!"

"Honey, I drove across the country to find you. Is that not enough to prove that I'm serious?!"

"Where's your wife, Elvis?" He groans and pulls his wedding ring off of his finger.

"I don't care." He turns and throws the ring into the patch of trees and you gasp.

"Elvis, that was worth a lot of money!"

"Maybe, but I don't want it anymore. I don't want her anymore. I want you, ya stubborn brat."

"Why?" He rolls his eyes. His patience is wearing thin as the two of you stand in the cold rain together.

"Because I'm so in love with you I can't even think straight when you're not around."

"I don't believe you."

"Y/n! Do you know how many small towns I've been to in Kentucky looking for you?! I love you so much I can't even imagine my life without you." You contemplate what he's saying. This is a long road to travel for casual sex. Maybe he does love you as much as he says he does, but there's still too many complications.

"How, Elvis-?"

"I'm leaving Priscilla." Your heart stops. Is he serious? "I can't live another minute without you. You're all I think about from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. Honey, I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and no one else."

You look up at him, your heart so full of love for him that you feel like it might burst.

"You'd really do that? Leave your wife and the mother of your child. For me?"

"Yes. I should never have married her in the first place."

"Elvis..."

"All my life I've been searching for you. I just didn't know it. I should've waited. But I'm here now and I'm telling you. I love you more than life itself. Let me love you, honey."

And then you utter two syllables that will change your life forever.

"Okay." In the blink of an eye, he wraps himself around you, his mouth pressed to yours in a passionate kiss. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist, his lips never leaving yours. The rain has softened, so he carries you to the hood of his car and sets your bottom down. You've never kissed anyone with such fervor before. It's like you're trying to melt into one another with the way you press yourselves together. You arch your back as he rolls his hips forward into you, his erection pushing against you through his pants. He runs his hands up your thighs and pulls your panties down under your mini skirt. His thumb runs up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top and he begins to rub circles there. You drop your head backwards and moan loudly. Without another thought, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out, stroking it slowly with your hand. He groans and kisses down your neck, while you pull him to you and run the tip of his dick up and down your entrance. He mutters against your lips.

"You're such a tease, honey."

"Yeah, but you love me."

"God, I really do. So fucking much." He thrusts his hips forward and pushes into you, almost filling you in one motion. You cry out with pleasure when he does and lean back against the car. He pulls out and thrusts forward again, grunting. This time his hips meet yours as his entire cock is inside you. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and begins to slide in and out of you, pounding you to the steady rhythm of the rain.

The sensation of him slamming against you is enough to push you over the edge and you tumble headfirst into an intense orgasm, moaning and writhing and pulsing around him.

"Fuck, honey, I love you." You pull him down on top of you and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too." It's the first time you've ever said it back to him. He whimpers and kisses down your neck to your cleavage, never changing his steady pace of pumping into you. You can tell by the way his thrusting becomes more erratic that he's getting close too.

Finally, he slams into you hard and shudders against you, filling you with ropes of cum. It's also the first time he's ever cum inside you: another indicator that he's serious about you.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle as he collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavily. He slides out of you and stands up, pulling you into a sitting position on the hood of his car.

"Come home with me, honey." He kisses your cheek affectionately and then backs up to look you in the eye, his blues ones seeing straight through to your soul. You couldn't tell him no even if you wanted to.

"I gave up my apartment."

"I want you to live with me." You raise your eyebrows.

"You still have a wife."

"I won't for long. I'll buy us a house. Just please say you'll come home with me." You nod and lean your forehead against his chest.

"I'm yours, Elvis." He tips your chin up to look at him.

"And I'm yours." He kisses your lips tenderly. "Now come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He drives you back to your parents' house, where you both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch together. Surprisingly, he's perfectly comfortable there with your mom and dad. He stays for a few days with you, letting you give him the grand tour of your hometown. Eventually, you head back to California together. Your car is totaled, so he promises to buy you a new one once you get home.

He wastes no time in leaving Priscilla and starting divorce proceedings. In the meantime, he buys the two of you a cozy little love nest and you're perfectly happy there with him.

The Kentucky rain was a baptism of sorts and you both came out of it changed for the better. It's not always smooth sailing, he is Elvis Presley after all, but you're happy more often than not. You never run away again, though you know he'd chase you if you did. And every time it rains, he holds you close and you remember the cold Kentucky rain.

******

The End

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

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

[austinbutlerslovers]

Newly released Elvis photo from “the” Motel Scene ❤️‍🔥

[carnevol]

Austin Butler playing “Can’t Help Falling In Love”

[gyratingpresley]

Pink Cadillac

Warnings: Elvis being a dick, making up for it, some smut, oral (female receiving), would I call this angst? I don't know. Gladys is still alive in this.

Elvis was always fond of cars, especially his pink Cadillac. He always treated that car the way he treated you, like a princess. Whenever the spotlight wasn't on you, it was on the car. He was washing it, cleaning the inside, taking it out for drives. At this point, he should marry the car. Some nights, he would go out with his boys showing off the new shiny pink coat of paint he got done the other week or the fresh new wheels with golden accents. You remember when he used to show you off. Now you just sit at Graceland, your so-called "home," and wait for him to give you the slightest bit of attention.

Elvis was in the kitchen with his boys eating dinner prepared by his mama. She was a lot healthier now that Elvis was back home. All alcohol was banned when she was around. You sat on the couch in your little a-line mini dress, and your white kitten heels kicked off on the floor. Gladys was the only person who kept you sane in this madhouse, and it had been like that since 1954. You smiled as Gladys walked in. "How's my baby doin'?" She chirped as she padded along the carpet towards you. Her apron was covered in flour, she luckily didn't get any on the gorgeous blue floral dress Elvis bought her for her birthday. Her voice always brought a smile to your face. She always called you baby. "Oh, y'know, the usual, feelin' like absolute mush." Her happy demeanor had flown out the window. She knew ever since he got that damn car he never treated you the same, there was always a kiss on the head following with "Hey Satnin, you all good? I'm going out with the boys. Takin' the car out." You grinded your gears for days, trying to figure out what the car had that you didn't. "I might just need to talk t'that boy! Ooh he makes my blood boil!" She stormed over to you and reached down to hug you. "Don't ever let no-one tell you a goddamn car is more gorgeous than you!" You laughed, her cheeks were flushed with frustration, eventually after a long time-consuming hug which you obviously didn't mind, she kissed your forehead and walked off. Off to talk to the man who is causing the problems. Elvis Aaron goddamn Presley. You knew he loved you, but the problem was he never showed it anymore. The room suddenly felt suffocating, the air so thick you needed to claw at the collar of your dress. God knows what Elvis is going to say to you when he gets you alone. You tiptoed over to a nearby window cracking it open slightly, a cool breeze whistled through the small opening clearing away the thickness in the air. Gladys was stood in the kitchen taking her anger out on Elvis, he had a look of confusion on his face as she scolded him for his shitty behaviour. "I did not raise you to treat y'future wife so horribly! Poor baby feels horrible, she feels like y'chose the car over her!" The house was silent apart from her voice, she was like a mama to you, always there for you, especially when your parents picked up and left to "find" themselves in India. "Mama, is'not my fault! Every time I asked she said she was fine!" he shot back, you flinched a little. You sighed, not bothering to pick up your heels you snuck out of the living room unnoticed and headed up towards the bedroom. Elvis would hardly even notice you were gone, he probably didn't even know you were in the living room.

"Satnin! Satnin where are ya'!" His voice was rough, he sounded more frustrated than anything. You stopped at the top of the stairs, turning around on you heels you tilted your head, "M'right here." His head snapped in your direction and you took in the time to drink in the sight of him. He wore some black dress pants with a pink button up that accentuated his muscles. "C'mere."

It felt like you were separated by a 20-foot pole. You didn't move an inch. Instead, you just stood there like a deer in headlights. Elvis furrowed his eyebrows, and with a sigh, he made his way up the stairs, eventually stopping directly in front of you. "Is my baby feeling left out?" Your heart ached at his words. You were hurt, and he wasn't making it any better. "Elvis, if you're more in love with that car than you are me." His eyes watched as you bit your lip, preparing to say what was next, "I'll take off this engagement ring and give it to the damn car!" His eyes sparkled with amusement, that little twinkle was everything you needed to realize he thought was a joke. You reached for the ring on your finger and gently stroked it. Elvis's possessive nature began to be rare it's ugly head, "Y'better leave that fuckin' ring on little girl." His eyes never left your hand as he gritted those words out. You always had an inkling that if you pushed him hard enough, his rough demeanor would take full control, but you never brought yourself to do it. Scared of how rough it would actually be. Though through that dark glint in his eyes, you could see a tiny glimmer of hope, hope you would listen to his demand, he knew you could be a brat and push him further. Especially during sex. One night on a random rainy Tuesday night, you tied his hands together above his head and tortured him by touching yourself. You never could walk straight after that night, he fucked you so hard you swear you're pussy is still sore. "Satnin, I'm warnin' ya." His voice was dangerously low. As much as you wanted to continue this adventure, he had made it clear it wasn't going to be pretty if you did.

So, instead, you mustered up the strength to look him in the eyes and whisper, "What's that car got that I don't." He burst out laughing. "Baby, it's a car! I'm proud of it, that's all." You pouted, "It would be appreciated if you treated me half as good as you used to! I'm dying for a little of attention here!" The rest of the words you wanted to say died on your lips as he closed the space between you. You could feel the warmth of his skin radiating off him, his hot breath fanned across your neck. "You want me to make you feel better?"

"Elvis, everyone is home right now."

"So? Let them hear how good I will make you feel." His words fell from his lips as he nipped your ear lobe.

With a sigh you gave in. You felt his smug smile against your neck as his arms curled around your waist. "Let's get you into that bedroom, hm?"

"I'm gonna make y'feel so good."

A moan slipped past your lips as he lifted you up and smacked the round of your ass. He pressed his plush lips to yours, and the taste of coke and mint filled your mouth. As soon as you entered the room, he put you down and faced you towards the bed. Gladys had obviously come up here and made the bed. The curtains were slid closed, and the door was now shut with a click. "Get on the bed, Satnin, and slide those panties off while you're at it." You tiptoed over to the bed, taking the delicate lace fabric of your underwear and hooking your finger into the waistband. You didn't understand why you were so nervous. The two of you had sex before, multiple times, but why now are you nervous? Eventually, you felt the coolness of the air brush your wetness. Elvis obviously enjoyed watching you shudder as you bent down to crawl on the bed. The soft pillows brought comfort to your head as you lay in the middle, on display for him. Your dress gave some sort of security knowing you weren't fully naked while he was fully clothed. "Good girl." His words alone were enough to make you come. But there was that thickness again. This time, it smelt. It smelt of lust, that sweet sultry scent filling your sinuses. He pushed your legs open, curling his fingers around your thighs and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. "M'promise, you're the only one I love, not that stupid pink Cadillac, you." He hated to admit calling his gorgeous baby stupid hurt, but he wasn't going to tell you that. You watched through hooded eyes as he brought his face closer and closer towards your core, taking in the sight of you, glistening right before him. One second he was licking his lips the other he was diving into your pussy like a starved man. "Holy sh-!" You jolted your hands immediately flying to his head. He growled against your clit, sending euphoric vibrations along the little bundle of nerves. Your fingers tangled in his black combed head of hair, causing another groan to leave his mouth. Elvis worked your clit , swirling his tongue over it before sucking the sensitive bud. You couldn't remember the last time he pleasured you like this, but you didn't care. All you cared about was that it felt like you were on cloud 9. Every now and then, he would thrust his tongue into you, drawing almost pornographic moans out of you. "Shh baby, wouldn't want my mama to hear now, would we?" He murmured against your folds. That's right, everyone was still downstairs, munching their dinner like their boss wasn't eating his fiance out right now in his bedroom. "Elvis, o'lord." You groaned out as he thrusted his tongue into you again. "Come on baby, come all over my mouth, show me how good I make you feel." Those words tipped you over the edge, sending you into a spiral of pleasure, you bit your tongue so hard the taste of copper filled your mouth. You hadn't orgasmed that hard in a while, almost forgot what it felt like to go through pure euphoria and see stars. Elvis looked up at you through his eyelashes, giving a kiss to your inner thigh. "Now, do you believe I love you more than my car?"

You couldn't even gain the strength to spit something out, but you had to bite back. "Mm, I'm gonna need a lot more than that. But you're getting there." It wasn't much of a reply that you wanted, but it was good enough for the time being. He just smirked a little as he stood up from the bed. "I'll make sure to try my hardest tomorrow"

Your eyes widened, "Tomorrow!?". He had originally said he was taking the car out for a drive tomorrow, but maybe he was really taking the hint. "Gotta choose to satisfy my lady over my car, hm?"

"That is certainly what I wanted to hear Elvis, looks like the ring is staying on."

MERRY CHRISTMAS BABIES!

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1 @iloveelvisss @prettyrose0135 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbdoll @i-r-i-n-a-a

[violaobanion]

AUSTIN BUTLER as CRYING ELVIS in ELVIS (2022), dir. Baz Luhrmann

Happy birthday, @springsteens! 💞