#elvis x oc

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.

Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.

Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head. 

“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled. 

She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”

He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”

She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face. 

“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”

She groans again. “I’ll try.”

She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing. 

Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn

Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again. 

“That’s cute.”

“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”

She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”

Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.

“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”

He grumbles again. 

“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”

“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs. 

She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”

His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.

My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal

She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”

“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”

She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either. 

He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”

“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”

He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”

“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”

“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”

Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed. 

He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”

***

When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside. 

“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness. 

Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again. 

“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”

Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”

“Please.”

He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray. 

“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”

Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”

Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles. 

“What?”

She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying. 

“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 

“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”

She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”

He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”

Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”

She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again. 

“I’m no good at this.” 

She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?” 

When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad. 

“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him. 

“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”

“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”

She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”

He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”

Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes. 

“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”

Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants. 

“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.” 

“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”

His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people. 

“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos. 

“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”

Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”

“Oh. I suppose so.”

“It’s cute though. How much you try.”

He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”

“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his. 

“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”

Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”

“What are ya callin’ me now?”

She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”

“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”

“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”

***

Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch. 

“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her. 

“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest. 

“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”

“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”

She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on. 

“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”

“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”

Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”

Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”

He puffs up with pride. “I am?”

“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”

He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”

Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own. 

***

After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him. 

Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.

“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her. 

“Hmmm? Why?” 

He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide. 

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.  

“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”

Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”

“Honey, you’re still sick.”

She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”

She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult. 

“W-watch?”

“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”

“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”

“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”

She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”

“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”

He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”

She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?” 

Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.

“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls. 

He groans. “Yes please.”

She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps. 

“Honey!”

She giggles. “No?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”

She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”

He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”

Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement. 

“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”

Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”

She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now. 

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe. 

“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants. 

“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”

“Mmmm.”

They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up. 

“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom. 

He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”

***

Taglist:

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

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 4

A/N: I love this story so much. I'm so glad some of you are enjoying it too! Head to my Masterlist if you need to get caught up!

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, cussing, oral sex (both receiving), swallowing, fingering

Word count: ~3k

Too good, he thinks as she nods and settles against him. Too good to last.

******

Elvis wakes up around noon with Jo still in his arms naked. He looks down at her with her hair sticking out everywhere, breathing softly. It takes him a second to realize he went to sleep last night without his normal handful of pills. Something about her puts him at ease and allows him to sleep. Or maybe he was just that tired. Either way, he kisses her forehead softly and she stirs.

“Mornin’ babe.” She whines, stretching.

“Hi, Tink. You hungry?” The nickname makes her smile. Then, she sits up suddenly.

“What time is it?!”

“Just a little after noon. Why?” She smacks her forehead with her hand.

“I've got to go get ready for the wedding. I'm supposed to be there at 2.”

“Wedding?” He panics a little.

“Yeah, Evelyn's wedding. The girl I was with at your show. She's… oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to ask Alan.” His expression darkens.

“Who is Alan?” She notices the change in his demeanor and smiles.

“Just a guy at work that I was supposed to bring to the wedding. But… well…”

“What?”

“I'd rather bring you.” He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“No, honey, I can't go to a wedding.” Jo frowns.

“Guess I better call Alan, then.” Now Elvis frowns.

“Now, Tink, honey wait a second-”

“I have to have a date and if you won't come with me…” She looks up at him slyly. He bristles at the thought of another man touching her, even if he is a kind of fake date.

“How big is the wedding?”

“We're not like Memphis royalty. They work at FedEx and their families are here. That's about it.” He seems to be calculating whether he can pull it off.

“You want me to come?”

“Yes! More than anything.” He pulls her over on top of him and starts tickling her. “Ahhh Elvis stop!”

He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her neck. She lets him snuggle into her and runs her fingers through his hair as they relax into each other.

“I'll come with ya, Tink.”

“You will?” She pulls back and looks him in the eye.

“Yeah. What the hell. To live would be an awfully big adventure, right?” She smiles and kisses him deeply.

“Alright. I have to go do wedding things until around 5 and then I'll come get you.”

“I can meet you there, honey.” He pushes a piece of hair off of her forehead.

“No, I'm not giving you any excuses to back out. I'll come get you.” She smiles and kisses his cheek and he nods.

******

At 5:10, Jo pulls up to Graceland. Jerry lets her in and she waits in the foyer until Elvis comes down in a black suit with silver rhinestone panels on the shoulders.

“I always thought I was late places.” She laughs and Elvis scoffs.

“I'm Elvis Presley. I'm never late.”

“Well, tonight you're just Elvis, so I'm afraid we are late.” He grabs her and pulls her in close, kissing her gently. She giggles and mumbles against his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi, Tink.” She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers.

“This'll be fine. I promise.” He nods and presses his forehead to hers. Something about her makes him feel 25 again.

“You sure you don't wanna run upstairs for about fifteen minutes?” He smiles slyly and leans in to kiss her neck.

“Elvis, we gotta go. I'm a bridesmaid. I can't be too late.” He groans into her neck. She can tell he's very nervous about how this whole thing will play out.

They make their way to one of Elvis's Cadillacs and he drives to the wedding. When they arrive, Elvis slips into a seat at the back and Jo walks down the aisle to take her place at the front. Through the whole ceremony, he can't keep his eyes off of her. She looks radiant in her dark green dress, her brown eyes sparkling as she watches her best friend get married. He thinks of his own wedding, how hasty it had been, without a church and all the things his mama would've wanted. Next time he'll do it differently. Then, he realizes that's the first time he's ever considered getting married again. But when Jo looks out and smiles at him, the thought hits him again. This time he'll do it differently.

When the ceremony ends and the reception starts, word seems to spread pretty quickly that he's there, but Jo does an excellent job of running interference, keeping people away from him. After the newlywed couple has their first dance, they open the floor for people to join them.

“Come on! Let's dance.” Jo tugs on his hand to try to pull him out to the dance floor.

“Oh, Tink, honey-”

“Don't ‘Tink honey’, me. You're my date and I wanna dance. Come on.” He quickly realizes he's already lost this argument and follows Jo to the square in the middle of the room. Luckily, it's filled with couples, so they're able to slip in undetected. Jo convinces him to dance for the better part of an hour before he insists on a break when the band plays one of his songs.

Evelyn and Phil are making their rounds, thanking everyone for coming. When they get to Jo and Elvis, Evelyn freezes. Jo tries to lessen the shock.

“Hey Ev, this is Elvis.” Evelyn laughs.

“I'll say. Wow. Welcome to our wedding, Elvis Presley.” Elvis stands up and shakes her hand genially. Then he turns to Phil, who until this moment has been completely still, just staring at Elvis.

“It's a beautiful wedding. Oh! Here.” He pulls something out of his pocket and then hands Phil the keys to the Cadillac he arrived in. “I didn't have time to get a present.”

“We can't… this is…” Phil stumbles over his words.

“Sure you can. I have plenty of others.”

“Thanks, man.” Phil claps him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis genuinely enjoys the normalcy of it all. There are no cameras or people shouting questions, just food and drink and dancing.

Towards the end of the evening, a woman comes up to Jo and practically begs for an autograph. Before she can say no, Elvis cuts in.

“It's okay, Tink.” He turns to the woman. “Sure, dear. You have something for me to sign?”

The woman hands him a cocktail napkin and a pen and before too long there's a small crowd of people gathered for autographs and photos. Someone has located a Polaroid camera, so he poses and signs pictures for them. Jo watches him interact with the crowd and it warms her heart. He looks like he did fifteen years ago, happily chatting with fans. Eventually, everyone has what they want and they're all just eagerly standing around listening to him talk, so Jo steps in.

“Alright, that's enough. Leave my date alone. He owes me a dance.” The crowd disperses and he finds her, his eyes sparkling. Somebody requests The Wonder of You and instead of hiding at the table, he grabs Jo and drags her to the dance floor. He wraps her in his arms and sings the whole song in her ear as they sway to the music. When it's finished, he pulls back and looks at her, his eyes wet with tears.

“That song is for you, honey. I didn't know that when I sang it on stage, but it is.” He leans in and kisses her softly, completely forgetting that they're in public. She rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes.

“I love you, Elvis. And I know you just met me, so I'm not expecting-”

“I love you too, Tink.” She looks up at him with her eyes wide. “I do. I'm not sure how, but I do.”

A warm smile spreads across her face and it's like someone lit a candle inside her. He basks in the light of her love and they spend the rest of the evening in this kind of glittering bubble of bliss. Just before they leave, Evelyn comes back and grabs Jo in a hug.

“I didn't believe it. I'm sorry. But you were right. The way he looks at you…”

“It's okay, Ev. I sounded nuts. I probably was nuts. I just don't like to give up.” Jo laughs softly.

“I know. I'm glad you didn't listen to me.”

“Me too.” They embrace one more time and then Evelyn and Phil leave for their honeymoon. The reception ends, so Elvis calls Jerry to come pick them up since he's given their ride to the happy couple.

Jerry shows up with one of the limousines and opens the door for them like a chauffeur.

“Thanks, Jer.” Jerry smiles and whispers.

“You like this one. Figured you'd like to pull out all the stops to keep her around.” Elvis winks.

“I love this one, Jerry.” Then he slides into the backseat next to Jo. Jerry closes the car door and thanks God he went out and got those airplanes.

******

In the limousine, Jo cuddles up against Elvis and he kisses her head. Then, he uses a finger to tip her chin up and kisses her lips. It doesn't take long for the heat to build between them and he turns his body, taking her face in his hand. His tongue explores her mouth and she whimpers softly. When she crawls into his lap and straddles him, he pulls back, breathing heavily.

“Honey, we can't do this in the backseat.”

“Why not?” She peppers him with kisses on his face and neck. He tries to remember why they can't, but his brain is distracted as his blood flows south.

“Jerry…” He nods his head towards the very thin curtain that separates them from the front seat.

“So be quiet…” She slinks down between his legs and he groans softly. Her deft little fingers get his belt and pants undone easily and he shifts in his seat, bucking his hips forward to give her better access to his dick. She pumps him a few times with her hand, but he's harder than either of them expected him to be, so she quickly dives in, wrapping her mouth around his length.

“Fuck, honey.” It's been so long since he's done anything like this that the dirtiness of it is keeping him turned on. And beyond that, Jo’s warm little tongue sliding up and down his cock is doing the job. She pumps him with her hand for a bit, focusing on swirling her tongue around his sensitive head. His hips buck again and he moans.

“Quiet, baby. You have to be quiet.”

“Don't give a fuck. Feels too good.” He grunts, genuinely not caring whether Jerry hears him or not. Honestly, it wouldn't be the first time. Jo smiles and goes back to bouncing her mouth on him. She takes him as deep in her throat as she can, pressing her nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him, moaning around his cock. He slowly starts to move his hips, thrusting into her mouth, running his fingers in the back of her hair to hold her still. She reaches back and gently moves his hand off of her head and then sits up.

“Don't do that.” He nods and she goes back to what she was doing, pumping him with her hand and sucking lightly on the tip of his dick. She pulls him fully into her mouth again, humming around him and he groans.

“Gonna cum, honey.” She rubs her tongue on the underside of his head and then pulls back a bit.

“Good. Fill this dirty little mouth, baby.”

“Oh God… fuck.” Her words push him right to the edge and when she takes him deep again and sucks, his climax snaps inside him and he cums hard, moaning loudly as she swallows it down. He shudders and throbs in her mouth through his orgasm before he starts to soften and she backs off of him, licking her lips.

“That good, baby?” He nods and pulls her to him, kissing her gently.

“Haven't done anything like that in a long time. I swear, Tink, you make me feel 25 again.” She smiles.

“That's good, because you owe me when we get home, so I hope you still have some energy.” He laughs and squeezes her, kissing her temple.

“You got it, honey.” He zips his pants and she settles into his arms for the rest of the ride. They arrive about five minutes after they finish and look at each other and laugh.

“Perfect timing.” She giggles and climbs out of the car.

“Glad I didn't get on my knees in there. Jerry would've gotten a hell of a show when he opened the door.”

“A visual to go with the sounds he heard. You were not quiet.” Elvis laughs and pokes her in the side as they walk into the house.

“You're too good, honey. I couldn't help myself.” She turns and kisses him in the foyer, parting her lips to give his tongue permission to enter. He kisses her deeply for a few seconds and then pulls back abruptly. “I just realized I haven't gone down on you.”

“It's okay-”

“No. I need to remedy this right away.” He pushes her in front of him up the stairs, his hands on her ass the whole time. She giggles shamelessly, both of them ignoring the fact that there are other people in the house. When they're together like this, they don't even notice there are other people on the planet. At the top of the stairs, Elvis loses his patience and bends over, throwing her over his shoulder to carry her into the bedroom. She's a tiny little thing, so he does it easily and she lets out a small scream.

“Elvis!”

“You were takin’ too long.” He carries her into the bedroom and tosses her on the bed. She scoots to settle with her head on the pillows and he crawls in between her legs on his knees. First, he pushes her dress up and over her head, tossing it to the side. Next, he removes her bra, throwing it somewhere too. When he gets to her panties, he drops soft kisses on her stomach before using both hands to slowly roll them down her legs and off with her shoes. She moans softly as he presses his lips to her ankle and then starts making his way back up. In between each kiss, he whispers.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

As he gets closer to her center, his kisses get softer and slower. She whimpers as he gently pushes her thighs apart and lays down between them. He runs his finger up her slit feeling the wetness and clicks his tongue.

“Damn, honey, I haven't even touched ya yet.” She moans softly in response.

“Need it so bad, babe.” He smiles and leans in, licking a stripe up her pussy and then pushes his tongue into her as far as it'll go. Her back immediately arches and she curses loudly. “Fuckkkkk, Elvis.”

His tongue finds her clit easily and he makes slow, languid circles over it. She groans and runs her hands in his hair, pulling slightly. He grunts when she grabs his hair, enjoying the sensation. She starts to sweat and pant as he goes to work on her sensitive bud, licking and sucking and dragging his tongue over it. He's going at her with more intention than he's had with a woman in a long time. He always makes sure they cum, but this time he wants to make sure she stays too. So he pulls out all the stops, moving his tongue on her with increasing fervor. She bucks her hips up into his mouth and he moves back down to fuck her with his tongue as she grinds against him. When he moves back to her clit, he pushes two fingers inside her and her eyes almost cross from the pleasure as he moves them.

“That feel good, honey?” He mumbles against her and she whines in response.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Good girl, now cum for me.” She moans loudly as he gives her the direct order and goes back to licking her, furiously chasing her high.

“Oh God, Elvis, FUCK!” She grabs his hair again and her orgasm crashes over her body, rocking her from the inside out as she holds on tightly and cums hard in his mouth, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He licks her until he feels her softening on his tongue. Sliding his fingers out, he licks another stripe over her whole pussy and grunts.

“Goddamn, you taste good, honey. Kinda wanna lick you all night until you can't cum anymore.” She whimpers and moans.

“Well I ain't gonna say no to that…” He smiles and leans his face back down to her pussy.

Jo ends up with three consecutive orgasms before she admits defeat, gasping for breath and coated in sweat. Elvis chuckles and rolls over on his back. He hasn't had this much fun getting a woman off in years.

After they both recover a bit and put on some pajamas, he lays down next to her on the pillow and she snuggles into his side. She walks her fingers up his chest and he grabs her hand, kissing her fingertips.

“I love you, Tink. I never thought I'd feel this way again. You brought me back to life. Thank you.” She looks up at him and kisses him softly.

“You saved me too. Someday I'll tell you how. For tonight I'll just say this: I love you too, Elvis Aaron Presley. And I'm yours for as long as you'll have me.”

Forever, then. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back for some reason. He'll think about that tomorrow. For now, he drifts off to sleep with her in his arms again, perfectly content.

******

Until next time!

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[wanderingelvis]

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

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

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

word count: 2,508

pairing: 70s elvis x fem reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you settled on getting Elvis a cupcake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, over here!”

“Is it true Elvis dresses you?”

“Does Elvis control you?”

“Are you really a virgin?” 

“Would ya sign this for me?”

“Who did you screw to get with Elvis?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’okay baby,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s right darlin’.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Constantly. 

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[starryschoolgirl]

Good Husbandry

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

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

WC -> 7.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are ya readin' Honey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s husbandry?”

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

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

“Like farmers do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was gentle as Elvis always was.

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

He pulled away, lips and hands.

“Lay down Baby”

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

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

“W-What are you doing?”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elvis?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...cause it’s special”

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

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

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

“Are ya ready Babylove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here it come Baby, here it come”

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

"I-I am relaxed"

“No ya not Babylove”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.

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

“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”

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

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

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

“It- I- It’s-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[presley4president]

I’m drooling

[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

[rosepresley68]

We miss them ❤️❤️

[vintageshanny]

For the First Time

Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ❤️

Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘

Fall 1954

Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.

His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.

The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.

Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.

“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.

“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.

“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”

Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.

Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”

Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.

“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”

Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”

“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.

Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.

“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.

“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”

“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.

“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.

“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”

Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”

Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.

“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.

“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.

Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.

“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.

Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.

Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.

“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.

“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.

“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.

“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.

Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.

“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.

“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.

“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”

Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.

“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”

Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”

Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”

Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”

“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”

“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”

Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”

Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”

“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.

“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.

Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”

“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[youaintnothinbuta]

A story where Elvis is protective of you. Maybe something happens to the reader, a guy is hurting her or something and Elvis handles it. Ends with smut 😇

“Looks like Presley’s got himself a little plaything.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: while Elvis is on stage, you get approached and harassed, one of them attempting to get you to come onto him. Elvis finishes his set in perfect time, coming out to find you, only to see what was happening and giving the guy a good punch to the stomach for messing with you. In his dressing room, you can’t help but feel slightly turned on, and so, you and him have a little dressing room quickie.

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 1,500

Warnings: mild angst, arguments/verbal insults, unwanted attention, mild harassment, F slur used, physical fighting, SMUT, 18+, unprotected sex, probably typos

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Elvis had taken you along with him and his band to a gig at a fair in Louisville. You got to sit in the audience seats during soundcheck when there was no audience, but of course, moved backstage, away from the fans during the show. Before going on stage, Elvis had given you his jacket to wear, partly because you were his girlfriend and he liked seeing you in his clothes, partly because last time he wore a jacket it gone torn off of him by the front row.

Towards the end of his set, you started feeling quite warm, and wandered out the back of the building to get some fresh air.

“Well I’ll be,” You heard an unfamiliar voice. You turned to look, three guys and a couple girls close behind them, looking at you. You glanced away, not particularly interested in whatever they had to say. One of them notices the jacket slung over your shoulders. With a cocky grin, he spoke, “looks like Presley’s got himself a little plaything.”

His companions snickered, egging him on with jeers and taunts. “Yeah, bet you’re just another one of his floozies, ain’t ya? Bet he passes you around like one of his guitars.”

You felt your cheeks burn with indignation, but before you could retort, another one of the group chimed in, “Sweetheart, a faggot like him can’t love you. Come here, don’t be shy now,” he approached you.

He continued as he crept up onto you, “let me, darlin’, come on.”

He reached out to try and touch you, but you slapped his hand away, “don’t you dare touch me!”

Your heart raced with shock and revulsion, but the group only laughed, their lewd behavior escalating, “Let me tell ya, he’s nothing but a glorified hillbilly with a pompadour.”

Just as this guy took a step out of your personal space, the door you had originally come out of swung open, and Elvis stormed out, his presence commanding attention. “Leave her alone,” he demanded, his voice ringing out with authority.

“Woah, don’t get your panties in a twist, fairy.”

Elvis closed the distance between himself and the groups seemed ringleader, “I ain’t gonna warn ya again,” he growled, his voice low.

He faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity in Elvis’ gaze. Sensing an opportunity, Elvis seized the moment, grabbing the guy by the collar and delivering a well-placed punch to his gut.

As your intimidator doubled over in pain, Elvis turned to you, his expression softening. “Come on, darlin’,” he said gently, leading you back inside. You made your way to his dressing room. He gently took the jacket off your shoulders and picked you up, propping you down on the vanity bench, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He leant close to you, his hands either side of you, peppering apologetic kisses all over your skin.

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left.” You argued. He shook his head ‘no’ against your shoulder, resting it against you. The smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat from performing met your senses, sending a chill over you. You reached for his hand, moving it to your thigh, mumbling his name.

“Sweetheart,” he spoke softly, his thumb caressing your soft skin. You tugged on his fingertips, pulling them closer to your body, hoping he might take the hint this time. He looked up at you, his eyebrow slightly raised, asking you, do you really want me to?

You nodded, waiting for his kiss. Elvis gazed into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. Finding none, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours as he whispered, “Are you sure, darlin’? Here?”

Your heart pounded with anticipation as you reached up to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. Elvis responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours. The taste of him mixed with the lingering scent of him spun your head in circles. And the way he protected you like that, you were ashamed to think about how much you enjoyed seeing him hurt that guy.

Elvis pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, pressing his hips against yours. You gasped slightly, feeling his erection against you. He brought his kiss back to your lips, smiling through the kiss as you began grinding and writhing against him.

“We gotta be quick,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your lips as he began to explore the depths of your desire. With practiced ease, he pulled your panties to the side, dipping his finger inside you to test your readiness. Your response was immediate, your knees falling open further in invitation as you arched into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Your hands found their way to the bulge in his pants, fingers dancing over the fabric as you stroked him, coaxing a low groan of pleasure from his lips. Encouraged by your touch, he pressed his thumb to your clit, setting your senses ablaze.

You fiddled with the buttons of his pants, struggling to get them undone. A soft chuckle escaped his lips at your evident distress, and with a gentle touch, he took his hands away, swiftly dropping his pants. You blushed at the sight of him, his cock gently bouncing as he throbbed. With a tender kiss, he brought his lips to yours once more, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as your hand worked to guide his tip to your entrance. Slowly, he pressed himself into you, the tight angle of your position on the countertop causing you to shudder with a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

“Easy, darlin’, there you go,” he spoke, his voice soothing as you leaned back, moving your hands behind you to hold yourself up.

He began to thrust, slow and shallow movements at first. He set a rhythm that was gentle yet deliberate, and despite your initial discomfort, found yourself easing into pleasure as you adjusted to him.

Elvis brought his thumb to his lips, wetting it with his saliva before delicately pressing it against your swollen clit, drawing small, teasing circles that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. As he increased the pace of his thrusts, the sensation intensified, eliciting hushed whines from your voice. Your eyes squeezed shut, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you fought to contain the rising tide of pleasure you felt. You clamped your lips together, desperate to stifle the sounds of pleasure that threatened to spill from your throat, not wanting to draw anyone else in the building’s attention to what you were doing.

“Come,” Elvis growled, his voice low and commanding, “Come on my cock.”

His fingers worked tirelessly on your clit, switching between gentle circles, clockwise and anti-clockwise motions, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. Your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably, your grip on his shirt tightening as you struggled to maintain your composure amidst the overwhelming wave of sensation crashing over you.

He used his other hand to lift your leg up, giving him deeper access. Elvis used his free hand to lift one of your legs, granting him deeper access as he continued to pound into you with an unrelenting rhythm. His movements became increasingly erratic and sloppy, a telltale sign that he was on the brink of his own climax, his primal groans of pleasure mingling with your own as you both teetered on the edge of release.

With a muffled cry, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as waves of pleasure washed over you, consuming you whole. As you reached the peak of your orgasm, your body trembled with the sheer intensity of it all. With each convulsive spasm, you felt your arousal coating his cock, slick and slippery with the evidence of your release.

With a deeper, harder thrust, Elvis leaned his body over yours, his muscles straining with the effort to maintain control as he sought to pleasure you. He was careful not to crush you with his weight, his movements calculated and precise as he continued to thrust into you with a primitive urgency. In a moment of pure abandon, he released himself fully, his body shuddering with the force of his climax as he spilled his orgasm deep inside you. You felt the pulsing of his cock as his hot, sticky cum shot into you, filling you to the brim.

You clung to him desperately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you reveled in the afterglow. In that moment, as you held each other, you let out an exasperated giggle, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He replied, kissing your forehead. Slowly pulling himself out of you, the both of you redressed yourselves, taking another moment to breathe.

“Come on, let’s go home,” he muttered, holding the back of your head in his large hand as he kissed your forehead. You nodded, leaning into his body.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 8 - For the future ones to find

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 3.4K

TWs: Stuff about motherhood (keeping it vague!), crying, bit of drunkness. Think that's it.

A/N: Without wanting to give the contents of the chapter away, this is written from a perspective that I don't think is seen much in this fandom, so I urge you to be kind please.

Tegan wakes up on the morning of the barbeque feeling like a bag of nerves. She’s not good with kids, and there are going to be four of them there. Obviously she knows Maria’s kids, and although they are loud and chaotic and usually make a mess wherever they go, she’s kind of used to them. But because they are loud and chaotic and make a mess wherever they go she’s a bit worried about what they will do to Graceland. And then there’s Lisa’s kids - Ben and Riley - who she doesn’t know at all. She looks over at Elvis, who is still sleeping peacefully, and wonders what he will think of her when he realises how awkward she is around children. She knows he dotes on his grandkids and she’s seen how good he is with the kids at karate. He tends to act like a big kid himself, so it seems easy for him to relate. She sighs, running her fingers through his hair whilst she openly stares at his face. He’s still ridiculously gorgeous, his white hair and the crow’s feet next to his eyes somehow enhancing his beauty, rather than detracting from it. 

“Hmmm.” 

She giggles a little as his eyes slowly open. Neither of them are good in the morning, although he has tried to make her coffee before work this past week. 

“‘Raur,” she hums. 

His face immediately breaks into a sunshine smile as he sees her lying there next to him. He’s still insistent on wearing pyjamas but he loves the fact that she doesn’t, and his eyes are immediately drawn to one of her nipples peeking out over the comforter. He runs a thumb over it and then looks up into her face. 

“Mornin’ Queenie.”

She smiles and takes his hand, using it to help her shuffle closer so she’s wrapped around him, their arms and legs tangled together. He sighs to himself at the feeling of her, all warm and close like this. 

“Elvis?” She ventures, after a while. 

“Yes, darlin’.”

“What’re Ben and Riley like?”

Elvis ponders for a minute as he breathes in her scent. He can still smell her perfume from yesterday. 

“Uh… well Riley’s eight, I think… and she’s a pretty independent lil thing, likes to sing like her mama and her grandad, uh… she likes cuddles sometimes but lately when I try ta hug her she looks at me like I’ve got two heads.” He chuckles. “An’ then Ben… well old Ben is five goin’ on fifty five. Look a trouble on his face all the time, boy looks through ya sometimes. Likes colourin’ in.”

Tegan isn’t sure whether the description of Lisa’s kids makes her more or less anxious. She thinks possibly more. At least rambunctious children tended to bounce off her and then go and do their own thing when they were bored. These ones sounded like they might try and get something from her and then be disappointed when she was found wanting. 

“Hmmm.”

Elvis moves to kiss her on the forehead. “Sure they’re gonna love ya, honey.”

“Mmm. Kids… actually don’t tend to.”

His forehead slides against hers and she finds herself looking directly into those bright blue eyes again. 

“I’m sure that ain’t true.” Elvis pauses, suddenly realising he’s never asked her anything about children, and he wonders if she can’t have them or something like that. “You uh… ya never tried fer ‘em?”

Tegan closes her eyes. She has been sort of dreading this conversation, knowing how much Elvis loves kids and how much she… doesn’t. Worrying that he is going to think less of her, like she’s not really a woman because of it. 

“Er… no.”

He wonders whether to push, then decides not to. “Well that’s a damn shame honey, sure ya’d make a great mama.” He kisses her on the end of the nose now. “Well yer gonna make a great… aunty anyway.” He decides it’s probably best not to refer to her as a grandma right now, since it makes her sound as old as him. 

She opens her eyes and smiles awkwardly at him. “Well I better get ready. I’m sure you gave me a big list of things to fix about myself yesterday.”

Elvis cringes a little at her words. “Baby yer perfect just as y’are. Don’t have to change anythin’ ya don’t wanna.”

She hums again quietly and then gives him a gentle kiss before getting up out of the bed. He watches her walk towards the shower with a sigh. There’s something funny going on with her, and it’s not just worrying about the way she looks. He thinks he must’ve hit a nerve with the kids thing but he’s afraid to ask any more. Maybe he can find a way to get it out of Maria this afternoon. 

***

Tegan ends up calling Maria to go with her to the salon so they can get their hair styled and their nails done. As soon as she hears Elvis is paying Maria is in. She loves pampering but can’t usually justify spending money on it when the kids are always needing new shoes and books and the like. She listens to her friend’s anxious chatter about Lisa-Marie’s kids and tries her best to be reassuring. “Kids are just kids. Either they like you or they don’t. You have to try not to take it personally.” But Tegan isn’t very reassured, and it takes all her self-control not to pick at her nails once they’re freshly manicured. She doesn’t think it helps that Elvis wants her in this ridiculous get up, there’s no way she can run around entertaining children dressed like this. She frowns at herself in the mirror. Elvis had already headed over to Graceland earlier and Maria had gone back home to help Neil with the kids. She concedes that her hair does look better after being styled (it would be weird if it didn’t) and the dress is very pretty. Elvis has good taste and he’s obviously chosen something to show off her curves. It still seems over the top though. She grabs her handbag from the side and slings it over her shoulder, making her way out of the flat.

Her stomach flips as she drives over to Graceland, and she’s even treated to the rare spectacle of a handful of fans at the gates. One of the staff buzzes her in and the gates open, causing the women to scatter. She gives them what she hopes is a friendly wave on her way through, and then pulls up outside the house. She tries to take a deep, steadying breath, and then walks up to the door and knocks. 

“Well ain’t you a sight fer sore eyes.”

Elvis grabs her hand and pulls her inside, twirling her around in a circle so her skirt fans out. She giggles with delight. It’s hard to stay stoic when Elvis Presley is twirling you and you seem to be wearing a princess dress. 

“Ohmygod Teeeeeegan!! You’re a princess!!”

She stops twirling and tries to get her balance back as Gina, Maria’s youngest, launches herself at her from the other side of the dining room. 

“G… G you might want to be careful…” she starts, worried about just about everything in Elvis’ house. But somehow the little girl doesn’t knock a single thing over, aside from nearly bowling her onto the floor with a hug that seems very similar to a rugby tackle. 

“She’s not a Princess, honey. She’s a Queen,” Elvis explains, scooping Gina up in his arms and holding her near Tegan’s face. “We jus’ need ta get her a crown, hm? Whaddya think?”

Gina tries her best to gently stroke Tegan’s hair, and ends up getting her hand tangled in it. Tegan squints and tries to help her get it back out again without pulling too much of a face, though it does hurt. 

“Yes. She needs a crown.” The little girl tells Elvis, emphatically. 

He laughs loudly. “Alright then. This little Princess has spoken. I know what I gotta do.” 

He sets her down again and she runs off, back towards the pool. Tegan looks at Elvis and completely fails to hide her shell-shocked expression. Maria’s kids were always like a whirlwind she didn’t know how to handle. 

He chuckles. “Honey, ya look like ya’ve seen a ghost.”

“They’re just…um… a lot.”

He laughs again and gives her a quick kiss before putting his arm around her waist and guiding her outside. “C’mon. Let’s go and find everyone else.”

Tegan gets a lot of attention when she finally gets outside by the pool, and she doesn’t generally relish attention so she spends a lot of time laughing with embarrassment. When she’s finally got everyone to stop complimenting her outfit and hair, Sonny comes over and gives her a friendly squeeze on the arm. 

“Hey, what d’you want to eat? I’m under strict instructions to feed you first.”

Tegan snorts. “Oh God, I’m that much of a primadonna am I?”

Elvis has made his way over to sit with Maria and Neil so her and Sonny are on their own next to the barbeque. He smiles. 

“E wants you to have something as soon as you want it. He said you nearly left last time because you were hungry and we were too busy jumping around in the pool.”

Tegan can’t help smiling. He remembered she got hungry. It seems silly and little but it’s so sweet she almost wants to cry. 

“I would love a burger.” 

He nods. “Coming right up.”

She sits down next to Lisa at the big outdoor table, and is properly introduced to Riley and Ben. Riley barely acknowledges her, and then after a few minutes gets up and walks over to where Maria’s kids are playing. 

“Don’t mind her. She’s going through a phase where she’s too cool for everyone. You’d think she was a teenager.” Lisa-Marie explains. 

Tegan smiles weakly. “That’s okay. Kids don’t tend to bond with me, really.”

“Never tempted to have any?” Lisa, never one to beat around the bush, just steams in with a direct question. 

The other woman looks awkward. She can’t say, I just don’t really like kids that much. I don’t have a maternal bone in my body. When they come up to me I don’t have the faintest clue what to do with them. Not with one sitting right there. 

“No, not really.”

“Did I overstep?”

“N-no… I just… yeah it’s fine.”

There’s an awkward silence between them for a moment, and then to Tegan’s surprise, Ben breaks it. 

“Are you really the Queen?”

She can’t help giggling. “No, I’m not really the Queen. Your…uh… grandad? He calls me that because I’m from Britain and we have a monarchy. The Queen is in charge, you know. And um… he thinks I sound like the Queen. Which I don’t.” Tegan genuinely starts to wonder if she will ever stop talking. 

Ben puts his head to one side as if considering this information. “Well, even if you’re not the Queen, you make Grandad very happy.”

Tegan’s eyes grow wide as she looks back at the little boy. “He makes me very happy too.”

Ben smiles then, a big genuine smile that lights up his whole face. There’s something of Elvis there, Tegan thinks as she smiles back. Lisa-Marie grins at both of them and then gets up and walks over to where the other three kids are playing, ruffling Ben’s hair on her way. 

“What’re you colouring in?” Tegan asks, moving chairs to sit next to him. 

He shows her the book, it’s full of pictures of superheroes and he’s coloured them painstakingly with felt-tipped pens, not going over a single line. 

“You want to help?”

Tegan is both a little taken aback and overcome with a fear of messing it up. “I’d love to, but um… I don’t want to ruin it. You’ve done such a good job.”

He shrugs. “You’re the Queen. I don’t think you’d ruin it.”

She smiles and picks up a purple pen. “Okay, well if you’re sure…”

***

The men have congregated around the barbeque, all apart from Elvis who is chatting with Maria. They’ve got past the initial pleasantries and Maria has even been quite complimentary about the way Elvis has been treating Tegan recently, although she can’t resist a little dig. 

“Just make sure you don’t go disappearing again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elvis replies, giving her a mock salute and a little lop-sided grin. 

“I mean it. You really upset her the last time. And the time before.”

His expression immediately gets more serious. “I know. An’ I’m sorry. I’m gonna be makin’ that up to her fer a long time.”

Maria nods. “Well, so long as you know.”

They’re both quiet for a little while, Maria sipping on a beer and Elvis drinking his water as usual, and then he remembers he wanted to ask her about Tegan and kids. 

“Can I ask ya a question? About Tegan?”

“Mmm yeah, sure.”

“You uh… ya know why she never had kids?”

Maria shrugs. “Didn’t want them.”

The three words stop Elvis entirely in his tracks. Didn’t want them? What does that mean? He frowns and scratches his face absent-mindedly. 

“How come?” Is all he can think to ask in response.

Another shrug. “You’d have to ask her that.”

“What about her husband?”

“I guess he didn’t want them either.”

Elvis is stumped. He looks around at the three kids playing by the side of the pool and then over at Ben and Tegan colouring in together. She looks so content right now. Why wouldn’t she have wanted that sort of contentment in her life permanently? That sort of unconditional love? Sonny shouts something about burgers being up and knocks him out of his reverie. Maybe Maria is wrong, maybe she wanted them and couldn’t have them. He’ll have to ask her later. 

***

Tegan enjoys colouring in with Ben but she’s still relieved when Sonny calls out about the burgers. Everyone sits around the table together, eating and talking and generally having a good time. She can see how much Elvis loves this kind of thing, how much he thrives in company. It’s not long before he’s trying to encourage people into the pool and they spend much of the afternoon and evening splashing around and trying not to let the drinks go to their heads too much whilst they still have children to wrangle. Elvis insists on everyone staying the night and Tegan and Lisa-Marie end up doing most of the work, trying to sort out bedding and towels, and the parents put the kids to bed. It’s only partially successful, as Maria’s two keep getting up and wandering around and Ben basically refuses to stay in bed, but it at least allows the grown ups a bit of time together. 

“You’re so lucky to not have to deal with all this nonsense,” Lisa-Marie says to Elvis as she picks up Ben for the fourth time and carries him back into the house. “You just get to be cool Grandad with your hot new girlfriend.”

Tegan is several drinks in by this point and is very amused by Lisa’s characterisation of her as a hot girlfriend. She sits there giggling to herself as Elvis calls after his daughter.

“I’ll take him if ya want, Yis.”

She shakes her head and carries on into the house. “S’ok daddy.”

Elvis huffs a little and then looks at Tegan. “He might sleep better if ya go an’ talk ta him Queenie.”

Tegan can’t hide her incredulous facial expression. “What makes you think that?”

“Yer good with him.”

She sighs loudly. Even drunk, she knows a table full of parents isn’t the place to announce that you don’t like hanging out with children. 

“I did some colouring in with him. Think his mum is best-placed to tuck him in for the night. Or you, if you want to.”

Elvis glances over at her as she stares straight ahead, hands clamped around the cocktail glass. Again, he wonders what is up with her. 

“How long have you and Lisa been together for, if you don’t mind me asking?” Maria asks Lisa’s partner, Mark, hoping to move the conversation on from the awkwardness between Elvis and Tegan. 

As Mark begins to reply, Tegan stands and says something about going to the loo. Elvis watches her leave with concern. When she doesn’t come back after ten minutes he knows his concern was justified, and makes an excuse himself, walking into the house to look for her. He can’t call for her because the kids are asleep (or at least pretending to be) so he goes from room to room instead. Eventually he finds her in the den. The decor in there had changed more than once, and now it’s the same as it had been since Stella left. She’d wanted it all pinks and purples and he’d indulged her. But as soon as she’d left he changed it to grey and turquoise instead - almost the polar opposite. There isn’t much of a theme like there had been in the 70s when it had looked like a jungle, aside from that it’s dark and cosy and there’s a bar and a lot of liquor cabinets, one of which Tegan is currently helping herself to the contents of. 

“Tegan bach.”

She spins around a little too fast and almost loses her balance, grabbing hold of a chair to save herself from falling. She’s been crying so the make-up Maria had helped her with earlier in the day is streaked with tears. 

He moves quickly towards her, wrapping her in a bear hug. “Baby what’s wrong?”

She grumbles and cries a little more onto his shirt. She can’t bring herself to explain, so he taps her thigh and mumbles “up” and she jumps, wrapping her legs around him. He squeezes her tightly and carries her over to the sofa, and then sits down with her on his lap. 

“Have I upset ya?” He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger, making her look at him. 

She shakes her head. “No. It’s not you… it’s me…”

“Ah don’t see how it could be, honey. Think it’s more ‘an likely ta be me, ain’t it?”

She stares into his face again, trying to work out how she can explain herself. She’s not sure she can. “It’s nothing…” she tries. 

“Hm, I’m pretty sure it’s somethin’. But if ya don’t wanna talk about it, ya don’t have ta.”

She sighs with relief and leans her head on his shoulder. He runs his fingers through her hair gently. 

“Ya look real pretty tonight, Tegan.”

She sniffs and wraps her arms around his neck. “Thanks. So do you.”

“Pretty?” 

She nods. “Yeah. This is a pretty outfit.”

He laughs, a low rumble in his chest. “Alright then. If ya say so.”

Fiddling with the waistcoat he has on over his shirt, she suddenly realises something. “This is from the 70s, isn’t it? Didn’t you wear this onstage?”

Another rumbling laugh. “It sure is. How did ya know that? Are you a secret Elvis Presley mega fan?”

Tegan looks up. “Is that what we’re calling being your girlfriend now?”

He throws his head back and laughs so loudly she has to elbow him and remind him that the kids are all sleeping. 

“If ya want.”

“Are we… is that what I am? Your girlfriend?”

He looks surprised, then realises he’s never actually said it. “Sure. If ya’d like ta be, anyway.”

For the first time in a while, her face breaks into a genuine smile. “I would. Does that make you my boyfriend?”

He chuckles. “More of an old man friend, I reckon.”

She rubs the end of her nose back and forth against his, still smiling. “Boyfriend.”

“Mmm alright.”

They sit there for a while longer, kissing and talking a little, and then go back outside to see the others once Tegan has fixed her face. She knows she has to talk to him about the kids thing, and that he’ll eventually want to know why she was crying. His grandkids certainly aren’t going anywhere, and it’s obvious he likes having them around. But she worries that when she does, he’ll think of her differently. Maybe even leave again. As they curl up in bed together that night her stomach clenches thinking about it. She’s only just found him and managed to persuade him to stick around for a while, and she’s so scared to lose him again.

***

Part 9

Taglist:

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

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

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 5

A/N: The next few chapters of this one are going to come fast and furious. We're halfway to the end and the last one will be on Christmas Day. Please keep reading! Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, no smut in this one but Jo does get into some pretty heavy topics. She describes her trauma history and lightly (and I mean lightly) touches on a history of verbal abuse from her dad, sexual abuse from an ex-boyfriend, and feeling suicidal as a teenager. Some of these things are real for me, so I tried to handle them delicately in a way that wouldn't be triggering, but I need to mention them anyway.

Word count: ~2.4k

Forever, then. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back for some reason. He'll think about that tomorrow. For now, he drifts off to sleep with her in his arms again, perfectly content.

******

On Sunday around 1 in the afternoon, Elvis wakes up to the sound of the shower going. He looks around in the bed for Jo and then puts two and two together. The steam pours out of the bathroom when he pushes the door open.

“You want some company?”

“Shit!” Jo pokes her head out of the shower curtain. “You scared me!”

“I'm sorry, honey. I just missed ya in the bed.”

“Oh, I was trying to shower and be back before you woke up.” He gestures again to the shower.

“Can I join you?” She smiles and opens the curtain, her naked body glistening with the water running down it.

“Absolutely. C’mon, babe.” He smiles as his eyes drift down her body and he whistles.

“You sure you really want this old man?” As he removes his pajamas and drops them on the floor, Jo nods. He steps into the shower and groans when the hot water hits his back. She wraps herself around him and sighs.

“I love this old man.” He kisses the top of her head and holds her tightly.

“He loves you.” They spend the next twenty minutes or so in the shower. He washes her hair and she runs a wet sponge around on his body.

The time together is a blissful escape, but there's something floating around in Elvis's brain that he just can't ignore. Eventually, as they wrap themselves in towels first and then fluffy robes, he has to say something.

“Hey honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night in the car, why did you move my hand?” She looks at him strangely.

“When?”

“When you were… suckin’ me… I put my hand on your head and you said 'don't do that.’ Why?” A look of realization crosses Jo's face and she nods. She bites her cuticle for a bit, trying to figure out how to say what she needs to say.

“It's kind of a long story.”

“Well, if you want to tell it, I'm here to listen.” Jo continues to bite her cuticle and then plops down on the bed. She lays down so she doesn't have to look at him while she talks.

“I have to start with my dad. My father was not a nice man, especially when he drank. He never hurt us physically, but his words hurt almost as much. And he yelled. All the time, at me and my mom. I was an only child, so I got the full force of his anger every time.”

“Did he…?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. But it set me up to think that's what love looked like. As soon as I started dating, the men I chose were trash. They were always older, mean, angry men who didn't treat me very well.” He takes her hand gently and she squeezes her eyes shut to try to keep the tears from sliding down the sides of her face.

“One of them… well, he liked to be in control, completely.” Elvis nods, thinking of how he used to always be dominant and in charge in the bedroom. “He would… make me go down on him and when I did… well… there's a reason your hand on my head was bad.”

She looks over at him as the tears slide down into her hair. This wasn't a secret she wanted to share, but here it is, on the table for him to see and do with it as he pleases. He holds his arms out for her to crawl into his lap. She does, curling up and leaning into him. He strokes her back affectionately and sits quietly with this information for a bit. Finally, he speaks, but the words feel empty.

“I'm so sorry, honey.”

“It's okay, I'm mostly over it. But that particular thing brings it all back. I can't think I'm losing control of my own body or it gets to me like this.” He holds her face in his hands and kisses her cheek.

“Tink, I promise I'll never do that again. Thank you for tellin’ me.” She nods and kisses his nose. “While we're on the subject of your past, you told me last night that I saved you too.”

She shifts uncomfortably in his lap.

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me that story?” She looks into his eyes contemplating how it might impact them. But he's going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be now.

“I can't believe I'm about to tell you this. In 1953, my parents split up. Even though my dad was cruel, I was still forced to stay with him sometimes. By the time I was 16, I desperately wanted to make it end. I didn't know how to get out of seeing my dad, but I was desperate. You know how big everything seems when you're 16.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.” She takes another deep breath and continues.

“Well, Evelyn could tell I was really down. Just when I'd hit the edge of my ability to take what my life was, she forced me to go see this kid play on the back of a truck in a parking lot.”

“No…”

“I fell in love with you that night. And my love for you kept me going even when the worst things were happening to me. Your music was my lifeline. Your movies gave me an escape from my miserable existence. When I had no one else, I knew I had you.” He looks at her incredulously. “I sound insane. God, you probably think I'm crazy.”

“How many shows?”

“Six. Well seven if you count the one where I ran on stage. Three in the fifties, two in Vegas, and one when you were on tour in ‘72.”

“Why didn't you ever try to come talk to me?” He picks up her hand and kisses her knuckles gently.

“I did! I even got kicked out once. But I could never get to you. Fuck, you're probably thinking I'm crazy and trying to figure out how to get away from me-”

“Tink, the only thing I'm thinkin’ right now is that I wish I'd found you in 1955.” She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

“You mean that?”

“With my whole heart. I've needed you for 20 years and didn't even know it.” He moves his fingers up and down her back soothingly.

“You don't think I'm insane?”

“Oh you absolutely are, but not for the reasons you think. I'm glad my music and those terrible movies were a comfort to you. It makes me feel better about making them, honestly. But I wish we'd found each other back then and saved ourselves all the pain.” She shakes her head as he leans in to kiss her cheek.

“No, there's a reason it didn't happen until now. We had to be ready. Think about it, I was so unstable then and you were young and wild. We would've been a recipe for disaster. This is better.” He pulls back and looks at her.

“Honey, you are somethin’ else. I'm so glad I found you.” He holds the side of her face with his hand and presses his forehead against hers. “I love you, Tink. And I don't think I'm ever gonna stop.”

“I love you too, Elvis. So, so much.”

******

After their serious conversation, Jo is ready for an easy day with Elvis and he knows it. They lay in the bed in robes, tangled in each other kissing and tickling and generally acting like young people in love until Jo's stomach growls.

“Oh, Tink, honey are you hungry? I am.” She giggles and her stomach rumbles. He leans over and acts like he's taking bites of her belly, tickling her instead.

“Ah! Yes! I'm hungry!” They both put on fresh pajamas and he takes her downstairs to get something to eat. After that, they lounge in the TV room for a while, not really watching what's on the screens. They spend more time making out like teenagers than anything else. Elvis thinks to himself that he should be embarrassed by their behavior, he is 40 years old after all, but he can't find it in himself to do so. He's so happy with Jo that he's practically giddy. And she's living her literal dream life, so she's not going to stop them from doing what feels natural. Still, as midnight approaches, Jo knows what has to happen. She crawls over into his lap, straddling his thighs again and he wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

“Elvis, I have to go home.” He pulls back and looks up at her in shock.

“What? Why?” The thought enters his mind that this might be a good thing and give him space to think about what the future of their relationship could possibly be, but his heart feels like it's in a vice.

“I have to work in the morning and I have no clothes here.”

“Honey, we can give Jerry your key and he'll go get some stuff for you.” She smiles and kisses his cheek gently.

“As nice as that sounds, I don't really want Jerry touching my panties. Do you?” He darkens a bit.

“No. I don't.”

“Exactly. I need to go home. I also need to sleep tonight and something tells me if I stay, that won't happen.” He nods and looks down, holding both of her hands in his. The thought of being without her makes his chest hurt. “I'll come back, though, if that's what you want.”

He puts his hand on the side of her face and his eyes search hers for a second.

“Are we kidding ourselves, honey?”

“What do you mean?” Her heart beats faster and it feels like she can hear her pulse in her ears.

“Maybe we should just see this for what it was. I have a career and a daughter and an ex wife and you… I just don't think you'd enjoy the fucking wild ride that my life is. You deserve someone stable, who'll marry you and give you children. I'm never gonna not be Elvis Presley.” She stares at him with her eyes wide and wet.

“I know that. I love you-”

“I love you too, Jo, but maybe this was just a beautiful weekend that we'll never forget.” His voice catches on the last part.

“You don't call me Jo. Elvis, what's happening?!”

“I'm just trying to save us both from the inevitable pain of how this ends.” She stands up off his lap and shakes her head.

“No, you're ending it before it starts. I want to know why.” He sighs deeply. How can he tell her that he's afraid? “You said things to me, Elvis.”

“I know, honey, and I'm sorry but I'm just not-”

“Not what?!”

“Not who you think I am.” The tears that have been threatening to spill out of her eyes finally do and slide down her cheeks.

“Then who are you, Elvis?” He shakes his head and looks at the floor.

“I dunno. But not the kind of man you need.”

“Elvis, look at me.” He reluctantly lifts his chin. “You're the man I want.”

He sits there silently staring up at her. He's torn between pulling her back down into his lap and asking her to marry him and telling her she should leave and never come back.

“Elvis… Do you not want this? Do you not want me?” More silence. He wants her so badly that it hurts, but something makes him hold back and leave everything unsaid. “How can you do this?”

“Jo, I don't know. You make me crazy. And I-I said a bunch of stuff that I shouldn't have. But now that I'm thinking clearly-”

“This is thinking clearly?! Elvis, why don't you just admit that I scare the shit out of you because what we have is real? Why can't you just say that?” His mouth pops open for a bit and then he closes it. How did she know?

“I’m not scared.”

“Bullshit.” She turns and runs up the stairs. He tries to follow her, but she's too fast. When he finally catches up to her, he's winded and she's gathering all of her stuff in the bedroom, which isn't much. He stands in the doorway watching and trying to catch his breath as she pulls off the pajamas and puts her dress back on.

“Jo, please.” She stops and turns to face him with one shoe on.

“I'm not doing this back and forth thing with you, Elvis. I'm too old. I have loved you for twenty years. Either you want me, or you don't-”

“Why do you get 20 years to decide and I get 5 days?!” Her mouth drops and she stares at him in disbelief. But he's right.

“Has it really only been 5 days?”

“Yes!” Her mouth curls into a tiny smile.

“Well that's just ridiculous.” He tries to suppress a grin.

“Yes! It is ridiculous!” She erupts in a giggle and he tries not to laugh. “I'm trying to be serious here, woman.”

Jo flops on the bed and howls with laughter, tears squeezing out of her eyes.

“5 days!” She croaks out between giggles. He sits next to her on the bed.

“Yes.” He looks down at her, his eyes sparkling as her laughter is finally slowing down. “You're not helping me love you any less.”

“You really love me?”

“Yes, goddamnit, I really do. I'm just not sure how we make this work.” She sits up and kisses his cheek.

“Let me go home tonight and go to work tomorrow. We can talk about it when I come over, if that’s still what you want.”

“Yeah, I think that's good.” He pulls her into his lap and buries his face in her neck. “I just need some time to think, Tink. It don't mean I don't love you.”

“I understand.” She lets him continue to nuzzle her.

“And you're right.” He mumbles into her neck. “But I'm not just scared; I'm fuckin’ terrified.”

“I know. It's okay.” She turns and puts her arms around him, kissing his forehead gently.

******

What happens now?

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[wanderingelvis]

hi!! so my birthday is tomorrow or the 27th of february and i was wondering if you could do an Elvis imagine and the Memphis Mafia throwing her a surprise birthday party? of course no rush or pressure i hope you have a wonder day ! - 🦢

headcanons for a birthday at graceland with elvis and the mafia 🎂🥂 (kinda possessive elvis!) 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

birthday's are special at graceland.

and yours, is no exception.

see, elvis spoils you every day, he showers you with affection and gifts that it's often overwhelming but you love feeling loved and you love soaking in the feeling.

but today, on your birthday, well, that's when elvis' generosity goes into overdrive.

he's like the captain of a ship, ordering the memphis mafia to do various tasks that will make your birthday extra special.

usually, jerry's scanning crowds making sure no-one is going to attack elvis but today he's blowing up pink balloons to decorate the interior of graceland with.

and of course he doesn't mind, he loves you as much as elvis does.

they all do in fact, jerry, sonny, red, charlie, lemar, you've got a hold on all of their hearts.

it's how sweet you are, even when they've had an intense and rough day, you'll be the sunshine that they crave.

like when jerry got in a scuffle with some guys trying to get too close to elvis and he cut his knuckles pretty damn bad, you sat by his feet, tending to the wound with a warm damp rag and clean bandages, trying to tell him jokes that maybe weren't all that funny, but when you said them, well then jerry had to laugh.

you're like a tonic.

and god, you were intoxicating.

so when it's your birthday, the entire memphis mafia ensure they're pulling out all the stops.

when elvis wakes you up, you're an adorable sight to see, your hair is slightly strewn and you blink several times before the realisation hits that it's your birthday, and suddenly, it's like you're a bush-baby, and the excitement begins to build.

"happy birthday, kid." elvis says, kissing your forehead as you gaze up at him from your shared bed, the kiss eliciting a soft giggle from you that practically melts elvis' heart.

even though you're still a little sleepy, elvis leads you out of the bedroom, your small hand in his larger, more calloused one.

and you practically jump out of your skin when a chorus of "surprise!" and "happy birthday!" roars around the living room, all of the men of the mafia, watching as elvis leads you to them.

of course, it's then that the stage fright hits, and your nerves bundle up inside you, the attention on you causing you to turn and bury your face into elvis' chest.

as if he's your comfort blanket.

but this only elicits another chorus of sound, but this time laughter, and 'aww's' from the men, cooing at just how sweet you are.

"think someone's got a lil' bit shy!" elvis chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back before leaning down his head to check on you.

"y'okay bunny? it's just the guys, they wanna celebrate y'big day with you baby, see," elvis coos at you, coaxing you into peeking at everyone as he points to the pink balloons over the archways. "jer got up extra early this mornin' to blow them balloons for you baby." elvis tells you and you start blushing, that feeling of feeling loved swelling inside of you.

it's already too much for a little thing like you to handle, and you've only been awake for 20 minutes.

once the stage fright is shaken off, elvis keeps a hold of your hand, leading you through the dining room and the living room, letting you see all of the pretty decorations that he and the memphis mafia have done for you, from balloons, to ribbons, to birthday breakfast pancakes.

and being the good girl you are, you give every one of the big, old men a cuddle, thanking them for making your birthday so special.

and even though elvis knows your cuddles are harmless, he never lets you out of his sight.

he trusts you, of course he does, and he trusts his men, of course he does, but there's just something so irresistible about you.

he knows his men are loyal but you're so heavenly that he knows you're worth risking everything for.

so he always keeps an eye on you.

because no-one else will ever have you, only him.

so he knows he needs to keep you happy.

and of course, that means presents, and extra special ones as it's your birthday.

and what could be more special than your own little puppy?

when elvis gives you the puppy, you can't help the tears that pool in your big, wide eyes.

"really? for me?" you ask with a slight tremble, you're not really ready to believe that the puppy is all yours.

"all yours baby." elvis smirks, he's proud of himself for the gift.

so there you are, with elvis' kitten with her own little puppy.

elvis and the mafia have invited everyone round for a party to celebrate you and by the time the evening rolls around, it's a full house.

the smell of champagne and cigars fill the rooms as does the sound of laughter and chatter.

and of course, you remember your manners, making sure to say hello to everyone and thank them for coming.

even if you have to go on your tippy-toes to whisper in elvis' ear because you need his help - you can't remember that guests name.

as the party continues and elvis is showcasing his new gun collection to sonny and charlie, the two men puffing on cigars, you're sat on the fluffy white carpet, by elvis' feet, your sole attention focused on your new puppy, who you're affectionately playing with.

elvis' talk of guns being interrupted with your sweet giggles at your puppy.

but it's not long before the staff come round with more glasses of champagne for everyone and you can't help yourself, you just want to have a little bit more.

only a little.

so you tap on elvis' trouser leg, catching his attention as he leans down to where you are on the floor beside him.

"please may i have a glass of champagne?" you ask softly and you know the look that he gives you all too well.

"just one more." elvis tells you with that coy look on his face. "can't have my baby being sick on her birthday now, can i?" elvis chuckles and you reciprocate, taking the glass that the staff hands you after elvis nods at them to confirm it's okay to give you one.

you love how elvis looks after you and knows what's best for you.

but the excitement of your birthday is quick to take it's toll, and it's not long until your head is firmly led on elvis' lap with your eyes closed.

elvis' lap is a good enough substitute for your bed, you think.

but obviously, elvis disagrees, and after about fifteen minutes of stroking your hair as you rest your head in his lap and lay on the couch by him, he decides it's time for your bedtime.

"c'mon little one, time to get you to your bed." elvis coos, waking you up ever so that you can say your goodnights and go with elvis to your bedroom.

and it's not before elvis instructs you to say goodnight and thank you to all of the memphis mafia that are sat around you in the living room.

"give the guys a kiss goodnight baby, say thank you fr' makin' y'day so special." elvis chides, patting your butt so prompt you to say your goodnights.

see, elvis is a possessive man, and he knows that his men adore you, and after a few drinks, he can't help but enjoy watching as you innocently go around, placing a kiss on each of the mafia's cheeks, not thinking anything of it, whilst the men won't stop thinking about for the next month, wishing they were as lucky as elvis to have you.

because there's nothing elvis loves more than having something that everyone else wants but can't have.

and for him, that's you.

because now, he gets to take you upstairs, undress you, kiss you up and down your body, taste you, fuck you.

and the mafia will still be thinking about that kiss on the cheek.

but all you feel is loved, and you love feeling loved.

and elvis loves you better than anyone.

and that's why birthday's at graceland are so special.

[stvolanis]

All Dolled Up

PT. 3

PT. 2

PT. 1

PAIRINGS: Dads best friend! Perv! Elvis Presley x innocent OC

WARNINGS: age gap (OC is 18 and Elvis is in his early 40s), foul language, inaccurate timeline probably, OC is a crybaby, cursing, talk of running away, OCs brother finds out about them, sexual themes in a barn

NSFW WARNINGS: dom!Elvis, sub!oc, daddy kink, making out, thigh riding, oc and Elvis almost get caught, oral (f and slightly m receiving), fingering, slapping, spitting, choking, degradation (whore, slut), praise, corruption kink, breeding kink, housewife kink ig?, nipple play, boob job, mentions of lactating,

sorry if I missed anything!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Kim woke up the next morning groggily. Her mind was hazy from the previous night, and it was all she could think of as she dolled herself up—for the presence of Elvis was near and strong.

Today, she wore a bold red off the shoulder sundress paired with black mary janes and her signature frilly white socks. Her hair was in a high ponytail, held by a black ribbon. Her bangs framed her face almost perfectly and she smelled of warm vanilla.

Kim knew he was there, somewhere in her family’s small house. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to look the brooding man in the eye yet, afraid he’d pounce onto her before she could even react. But alas, she also knew that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Not that she really wanted to, anyway.

So, as she opened her large white door and rounded the corridor—there he sat. Manspread on the couch, taking up almost half of it as if he owned it. His hair was messy and fallen in his stupidly perfect face. He wore a wife-beater and jeans that hugged his strong thighs just right.

The light was dim, but the light from the TV highlighted against the sharp features of his muscles and face. Kim felt her breath snap away from her as his eyes suddenly met hers all over again. He was so pretty. So, so, unbelievably pretty. And in that moment, the one thing Kim could finally settle on, is the fact that she was completely and utterly smitten by Elvis Presley.

Never had she ever felt this way for any man or woman before. It frightened her to no end, yet—she wanted—no. Craved more of him. More of his chuckles, more of his warmth, more of his touch—she wanted him more than anything. But, she knew she couldn’t ever really have him.

Even as he sat there on her couch, in her home—even when he had sat on her bed the previous night; he was merely always going to be out of reach. Their fingertips being only met. She was his secret, as he was hers. And, it seems that’s all they could ever be as long as she lived under her fathers roof.

The nagging voice in the back of Kim’s mind knew this couldn’t go on, but she couldn’t help it. “Y’jus gon’ stand there all day, or c’mere n let me love on ya’, baby?” He asked with a charming smile. Kim felt a warm sigh slip past her lips as she dragged her body to where Elvis sat.

“Where’s my father?” She asked as he perched her on his lap and tucked her face into his neck. “Gone, with ya’ brother.” He replied as he rubbed circles into the small of her back. She hummed in acknowledgment.

His body was warm and firm against hers, a contrast compared to her skin soft to the touch and slightly cold. His scent was intoxicating; wood, old spice with a lingering hint of tobacco. The small circular ash trey with the remnants of a cigar confirmed her thoughts.

His chest rose and fell beneath her at a steady pace as they basked in the comforting silence. Her fingers danced across his clothed chest gently. A show played on from the TV, but it only played as background noise in the darkened room. Kim felt content. More than she ever had.

She’d never felt the warmth of any other man besides her father and brother, but Elvis felt extraordinary to her. She felt protected as his strong arms tightened around her small frame, securing her seat on his lap. Kim wished to live in this moment with him forever, but thoughts plagued her mind as the world grew quieter around her than it ever had been before. All she could hear was his soft exhales if she really paid attention.

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, honey?” His soft voice broke her out of her daze. Kim’s eyes met Elvis’ for a moment, unsure. “I just—” she stammered. Her voice caught in her throat and she felt herself become breathless as her eyes began to water. “We can’t do this, Elvis.” She stated as she stared up at him.

The older man pursed his lips and his brows furrowed. His calloused hands cupped the sides of her face as he brought his closer to hers. “Let me take ya away from here, then.” He whispered, determination swirling in his eyes. “Ya know I can’t—I—my father—my brother, Elvis!” She stumbled over her words.

“They’re grown, darlin’, they can take care of themselves.” He replied. He wished to know what was going on behind her pretty eyes. The thoughts she was having so he could bid all the negative ones goodbye. Elvis longed to take his gem away from this rusted town before anyone else could. As his lips brushed against hers, she felt herself melt into him.

His lips were plump and soft, wet and warm as it become more heated. The kiss was intense as their teeth clashed against each other, tongues dancing and tangled. He lightly bit her bottom lip and Kim let out the faintest moan as her pussy began to familiarly dampen.

Elvis could feel her leaking through on his thigh. A small wet patch on his pant leg evident. “Fuckk, look at you, such a slut f’me, hm?” He mocked. Kim whimpered at his words. Usually, she’d take great offense to such degradation, but as she squirmed on his thigh and applied pressure to her sensitive clit—she wanted nothing more than to be his slut.

Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she found herself humping along his thigh for some kind of relief to the aching of her core. Elvis groaned at the little nymph in his arms and watched as she desperately tried to get herself off. He lifted his thigh a little to add more pressure to her clothed pussy.

“S’not enough!” She yelled out, hot and frustrated. Panting heavily as her body burned all over; begging to be touched by the older man she sat on. “Oh, baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” He cooed as he watched her eyes water again. Such a crybaby. His crybaby.

Kim bit her lip. Daddy. Such a vile thing to call him, yet it only made her all the more longing for him and she couldn’t place exactly why.

Just as Elvis took it upon himself to slide his hand into her panties, they jumped as they heard the familiar sound of the front doorknob rattling. Kim straightened herself as she sat furthest away from Elvis on the small couch. Her hair was a mess and her face was flushed. Her breathing was wavering and uneven as she rubbed her wet thighs together, letting out a small moan.

Elvis looked at her sternly, and Kim immediately toned down. In walked her father, followed by her dearest older brother who seemed rather sweaty and pissed.

Her father nodded at Elvis the way all men do, and Elvis casually returned it as if he didn’t have Kim on him humping against his thigh like a bitch in heat. “Elvis, hope Kims not botherin’ ya” Her father smiled. “She’s no bother at all.” He replied with a knowing smirk.

Kim gulped. “I was just telling him about how you partnered with the local fishermen, father.” She smiled. Elvis almost let a ‘good girl’ out at how good of a liar she was being. Any other time—Elvis would have her bent over his knee with her round ass bare and red from his hand prints for such a thing.

“Ah, yeah, I built my own farm and I sell meat from the the cattle and eggs from the chicken. It’s a business I profit quite a lot off of and the fishermen started supplying me with fish to sell them too.” He stated proudly. Truthfully, Elvis did not care for his farm or the fishermen—he was more pissed that he’d interrupted his time with his little angel.

Alas, Kim’s father made quick work of talking his ear off. Kim’s brother was no idiot, though. He knew his little sister inside and out. Her wavering breaths and flushed face didn’t go unnoticed to him as the two older men began a conversation.

Already pissed, he took it upon himself to grab his sisters arm and drag her off towards the secluded kitchen. “Kimberly.” Her brother started. “I don’t know what you’re doin’ with that man, but I’ll tell you this one time and one time only—stop.” He said firmly as he searched his sisters face.

The guilt that had been gnawing away at Kims conscience was all too much under her older brothers judgemental gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips began to tremble as they always do at the slight tone change of someone close to her. She was ashamed, as she knew she should be—but she couldn’t control nor help the way that she felt about Elvis.

“M’ sorry, but I really like him.” She muttered as tears ran down her face. Marcus sighed deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. “Kim, yknow dad will never be okay with it.” He stressed.

The younger girl sniffled. “Marcus, I wanna leave with him.” She said firmly. Her brothers mouth hung agape. “Are you out of your mind, Kimberly?! You just met this man!” He whisper -yelled.

“I know, but he’s different, Marcus! He’s not like your friends or the boys I go to school with. He sees me. Like—I mean he really sees me.” She said. Marcus knew his little sister was struggling. She was a single pale rose in a field of weeds, and he knew as much as she did that if she stayed any longer, she’d wither away. Wasted talent. Wasted youth. Wasted innocence.

She wasn’t made to work on a farm her whole life, or looked at like a complete child by half of the town. Kimberly was meant to shine like the sweet gem she was, and Elvis was going to make sure of that. His gem. His woman.

“Please, Marcus. He makes me happy. The happiest I’ve been since..mom.” She whispered. she searched her brothers eyes hopefully, and felt relief wash over her at his sharp intake of breath and firm nod. “Alright, Kim, but I’m taking no part in it.” He replied.

A smile danced across her face as she hugged her older brother tightly. “Thank you, thank you!” She replied happily. And at the end of the day, that was all Marcus wanted for her. Happiness. And if Elvis Presley could give it to her, then so be it. He just better not fuck up.

“Me and dad are gonna have to leave again, tomorrow morning at 9:30. If you wanna leave, that’s the best time to do it.” He whispered in her ear. Kimberly nodded in understanding before she made her way back to Elvis and her father, her brother following close behind.

“Kimberly, why don’t you go show Elvis around the barn?” Her father suddenly asked. Kim knew Elvis had no interest in the barn, but the glint in Elvis’ eye told her that he had other plans. “Of course, father. C’mon, Elvis.” She smiled up at him.

She led him through the small house, out to the back pasture. The sky was beautiful, as night was approaching. The moon just barely visible in a waning crescent. The crickets and the sound of rowdy animals were the only sound that could be heard, along with the older man’s heavy foot steps behind her.

The barn was nothing spectacular. A basic, old, red and white barn with two large doors. Typical, the kind you’d see in movies. The animals were all out in the pasture, leaving the barn secluded and empty. Marcus cleans the barn out every morning after he lets the animals lose, so it was pretty tidy in there as she opened the doors and led him inside.

It was bright inside as the light was on and hanging above the two, and it slightly smelled of grains and wheat.

Kimberly jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut behind her. She didn’t have time to turn around before she felt Elvis’ large body pressed against her from behind. His hands traveled around her body, groping at anything he could greedily. He held her neck in one hand in a fairly tight grip as he tilted her head slightly. He began kissing along her jaw as his free hand groped her breast.

“Elvis—” she gasped as he began sucking and licking against her jaw. Her panties were already soaked from earlier, before they were interrupted, but now they were ruined. “Been waitin’ to finish what I started, baby.” He said against her ear.

Kimberly was pushed against a hay bale and bent over by the older man. Her pussy clenched around nothing at his manhandling as she released a whimper. “M’ gon’ Taste this perfect cunt, yeah, baby?” He said as she heard him drop to his knees.

Elvis hiked her dresses up and bunched it around her waist, groaning at her ruined panties. “This all f’me, hm?” He asked as he groped her ass. At no response, he slapped her ass hard enough to sting. “When I’m talkin’ to ya’ I expect a response, ya’ hear.” He stated firmly as he pressed a kiss to where he slapped.

She gasped at the impact and whimpered. “Yes, daddy. M’ sorry.” She replied as she began to squirm around, desperately seeking more of his touch. “Who’re ya’ this wet for?” He asked. “You, Elvis, only you.” She whimpered out with a huff.

“Good girl.” He muttered as he ran his finger along her panty covered pussy. She groaned lightly in response. “Please, Elvis!” She begged. “Whadya need, honey?” He asked tauntingly. “Tell me n’ daddy will make it better.” He added as his nose brushed against her clit, inhaling her scent deeply.

“Need your mouth, daddy, please!” She replied. Elvis groaned at her obedience, and he felt his slacks tighten around his crotch area. He used his index finger to push her soaked panties to the side, and he gripped his cock through his slacks at the sight in front of him.

Her pussy was dripping in her juices, and her scent was strong as her little hole clenched around nothing desperately. Her clit was puffy and red, swollen with need. “Awh, been neglecting’ this pretty little pussy for too long, huh, satin’?” He asked mockingly as one of his long, slender fingers prodded at her entrance.

“Mhmmm.” The small girl replied as her lips trembled. How badly she wanted him to ravish her, and make her cum like she never has before. Ever since the first time he’d made her cum, it’s all the little nymph had been thinking about. She couldn’t get enough of him.

Elvis raised his hand before bringing it down again to slap her clit. Kimberly jolted forward. “Elvis!” She whimpered out. The older man merely chuckled. He blew on her sensitive pussy before began to lick along her pussy.

His tongue began doing things Kim had no idea it was capable of doing, and she felt her toes curl. He lapped at her sensitive cunt like a starved man, sucking her swollen bud in his mouth harshly and releasing it with a light ‘pop’ sound before his tongue found its way inside her pussy. He began to fuck her with his tongue with such passion, making Kimberly a whimpering, moaning mess before him.

“Oh, Elvis! Please! S-So good, oh my god!” She moaned out, nearly breathless as her mouth hung agape. He groaned into her pussy, and the vibrations began to be too much for her as her hips began to move forward, trying to get away from his torment on her weeping cunt.

He let out almost an animalistic growl as his arms firmly gripped her thighs back. “Don’t be fuckin’ brat, m’ not finished yet Kimberly.” He said firmly before he began to eat her pussy once more. His tongue began to work faster at her clit and he brought his finger up to her tight hole, harshly pushing it in.

He began fingering Kim with force as he suckled her clit into his mouth once more, and that was all it took for Kimberly to squirt all over the older man’s face with a loud moan.

“Daddy! Oh—“ she moaned out as her hand turned to grip Elvis’ hair. He didn’t let up on her poor pussy, and began to lap up all her juices. He drank her in as if he couldn’t get enough, and the truth was, he couldn’t. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t get every last bit of her. He was sloppy with the way he licked up that last of her juices, and he didn’t care. He was drunk on the taste of her sweet moans and pussy.

“Please, i can’t, s’ too much, daddy!” She whimpered as tears began to line her eyes. His little crybaby. “Sorry, baby, y’taste so fuckin’ good.” He moaned against her, but hearing her trembling voice made him stop his abuse on her sensitive pussy. He gave her clit one last kiss, and Kimberly felt herself melt.

“Are you gonna um..put your thing in me now, Elvis?” She asked hopefully. He shook his head. “M not takin’ your virginity in a barn, sweetheart. You deserve better than that honey.” He replied with a light chuckle. He shimmied her panties off of her and stuffed them in his back pocket to add to his collection.

“Wanna take care of ya too, daddy, can I? Please?” She asked as she peered behind him, batting her pretty little lashes. “Can’t say no to my princess when she asks so nice, can I?” He smiled as Kimberly lifted herself up.

“I got a lil somethin’ different in mind, honey.” He said as he helped her stand to her feet. Her legs were still shakey from her previous mind shattering orgasm that the man in front of her gave her. She could still see her juices on his chin and lips, and she blushed at the sight.

Elvis sat on the hay bale Kimberly was just bent over, and motioned for her to get onto her knees. Kimberly, being the obedient girl she was, did as told. “I want ya’ to give me a boob job, Kimberly.” Elvis stated as he began to unzip his slacks, slightly sitting up to let them drop to his ankles along with his boxers.

“A boob job? I-I dunno how to do that, Elvis.” She replied. Kimberly was the least experienced person Elvis had ever been with, and she knows that. But something Elvis would never say out loud is that the fact she’s so innocent, so pure and sweet beyond belief turns him on more than any other woman ever has.

Being able to mold her just right to fit him, teaching her to know just exactly how to please him while also pleasuring herself made his cock unbearably hard. Turning her into his personal obedient slut till all she knows how to do is be good for him and him only. God, how badly he wanted to make her his perfect little house wife. Knock her up with a few kids, make her all round and pretty.

“I’m gon’ teach ya’, baby. Don’t worry.” He said with a reassuring smile. Elvis pulled down the front of Kimberly’s off-shoulder dress, and her breasts spilled free. Her nipples hardened against the cold air, and stood perky. She had a small mole just above her left breast, and Elvis made sure to add that to the number of moles he counted on her beautiful body.

Her breasts were slightly uneven, one bigger than the other. Kimberly always told herself it was because the slightly bigger one was because it was where her heart rested. Her heart full of so much love to give to everyone, yet Elvis wanted it all to himself.

Every mole, every scar, every stretch mark—everything. He wanted everything Kimberly had to offer him.

Kimberly became insecure under his watchful gaze, and moved to cover her breasts. “I know they’re not—“ she began, but Elvis wasn’t having it. “Don’t ever hide from me, honey. They’re fuckin’ perfect.” He replied as he slightly leaned down to place a kiss on both nipples, to which Kim bit her lip.

He pinched both of her nipples with his index and pointer finger before slightly pulling them. Kim gasped at the way he began to tug on them, slightly whimpering. “Elvis” she said, her breathing uneven as he began twisting them. He leaned back down and began suckling one of her nipples in his mouth.

She could feel his tongue swirling around her bud, and nearly jumped as she felt him bite down enough to sting. Her fingers threaded through his dark hair as she moaned at the stimulation.

All Elvis could think about was her breasts being full of milk. The way it would taste. How greedy he would be. He felt like such a school boy all over again, a pervert, even. Stealing her panties, watching her touch herself, jacking off to the thought of her—he knew it was wrong but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He released her nipple with a loud ‘pop’. Kim’s eyes couldn’t ignore his prominent, hard, aching cock standing tall in front of her. It had a slight curve and his mushroom tip was an angry kind of red. “Spit on it like i taught ya, baby.” He urged. Kim nodded and spit onto his cock before taking it into her small hand.

Her hand didn’t even completely fit around it, and his girth seemed inhumane. His cock felt warm to the touch as she began to stroke him up and down at a steady pace, making sure her saliva was spread evenly around his cock.

“Can I kiss it, daddy? Like you kissed my pussy?” She asked. Elvis let out a chuckle, nodding. “‘Course, baby.” He replied. That was all Kimberly needed to hear as she kissed his swollen tip all over. Her sloppy kisses trailed down to the base of his cock, and Elvis gently held her head as he bit his lip.

“Alright, Kimberly. Press those pretty tits together f’me.” He said. She looked up at him, slightly confused, but did as was told. She bunched her breasts together and watched as Elvis slid his weeping cock between them. “You gotta hold ‘em tight, or it won’t work.” He corrected.

Kimberly nodded and put more pressure against her breasts, making Elvis groan. “Good girl, now, move em up n’ down. Like you would if you were suckin’ my cock.” He instructed.

Kimberly moved them up and down just like he told her to, and she watched his face contort into that of pleasure. His mouth hung agape and his breathing became heavy. His pupils were blown out and his cheeks became red as she quickened her pace.

“Thaaaat’s it, good fuckin’ girl. Listen to me so well, Kimberly.” He groaned out. She loved hearing his praises, just as she loved making him proud. She chased for his approval as she stuck her tongue out and slightly bent her head down, so that every time she moved her breasts down, his top would slightly slide into her mouth.

“Holy shit, such a slut, god ‘m gonna fuckin’ ruin that pretty face, yeah? Ya’ want that?” He husked out. Kimberly eagerly nodded her head in response. “Please, daddy, want your cum. Want it so bad” she whimpered out.

“I know, satin, i know. Just like that, fuckkkk.” He groaned out, throwing his head back as she squeezed her breasts together even tighter. His cock began to twitch, and Kimberly could tell he was close by the way he was gripping the hay bale beneath him and his breathing became quicker.

“Shit, shit, shit, ‘m gon’ cum, Kimberly. Gon’ cum all over that pretty face n you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, whore.” He growled out as he gripped the base of her ponytail. “Yes, Elvis. Give it t’me, please. Want your cum.” She replied, her breath uneven.

Elvis couldn’t control himself as his cock began spurting cum, all over Kimberly’s face. Coating her lips, cheeks and forehead, dripping down her chin. He moaned loudly as she rode him out, spurting the last bits of cum he had to offer her.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” He groaned out. He felt he could cum again at the sight below him. His girl. On her knees for him. Covered in his cum. Her pussy still dripping for him. He wished he could take a picture of the way she looked right now, cause he’d keep her picture in his wallet everywhere he went. She looked so pretty covered and scented in him.

“I did good, Elvis?” She asked eagerly with a smile as she peered up at him through lashes. He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, honey, did so well.” He replied.

He used his finger to scoop up all of the cum on hee face before bringing it to her mouth. “Don’t want it to go to waste, satin” he said with a smirk. Her mouth opened and greedily lapped up the cum on his finger before sucking it in to make sure she got every drop off of it.

She released his finger with a familiar popping sound and Elvis stood, picking his boxers and pants back up before he helped Kimberly to her feet. “My knees hurt, Elvis.” She said with furrowed brows.

“I know, baby, we’ll fix ‘em up nice ‘n good, yeah?” He said reassuringly as he lifted her chin to give her a kiss. “Okay.” She mumbled against his soft lips. The kiss wasn’t lustful. It wasn’t fast. It was soft, and gentle. A peck. His lips resting on hers with a smile.

He felt her small warm hands come up and rest against his cheeks, holding his face in her hands as she leaned back to look him in the eyes. "if you want to leave, our time to do it is tomorrow. my brother and father will be gone." she whispered, as if someone would hear them.

Elvis smiled widely. “You’ll leave with me?” He asked, making sure he heard her correctly. She giggled as she pressed a kiss to his nose. “Yes, Elvis. I’ll leave with you.” She confirmed with a laugh. Elvis held her tightly as he spun her around, slightly lifting her feet of the ground as he placed kisses all over her face.

“Thank you, baby. Promise ‘m not gon’ make you regret it. We’ll catch a flight outta here ‘n I’ll take you back to Graceland. You’ll love it there.” He said happily.

And Kimberly basked in the feelings she’d never felt for anyone romantically before. Love. Pure love.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[starryschoolgirl]

Just A Man

| A Soldier's Song Installment |

Summary -> As the weeks leading up to Elvis' deployment to Europe begin to dwindle you and Elvis try to help your son understand what it will mean. Meanwhile, inevitable tensions between you and Elvis are pushed to the side as the two of you figure sex is better than facing your issues, especially with such little time left together.

Warnings -> mention of family death, domestic fluff, flirting, mention of war, pre-deployment, Elvis being a young dad & husband, (much needed) sex with 50s Elvis, angsty undertones, smut, kitchen sex, swearing, foot kink, stocking kink, almost footjob(?), breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), unsafe sex

WC -> 5.8k

A/N -> So this is more of a prologue to the actual events of which this au series is based upon, to sort of give a glance into what life was like before Elvis gets deployed to Europe, I hope you enjoy it! In the next installment, we WILL see Elvis in uniform. This is an installation of the A Soldier's Song AU

“That one made my hand hurt Frankie!”

The little boy giggled at his daddy’s shocked face.

That battering of a baseball against a leather mitt is all that kept you company on the back porch of your home. Watching the two boys, your two boys, in the yard tossing the ball back and forth puts a smile on your face, but as you turn your head to the empty chair next to you that smile falls ever so slightly, missing the warmth that often emanated from that chair.

Elvis had been at basic training when she passed and was only able to make it back in time for her funeral, but even then while you were a wreck he remained as strong as he could. He held you in one arm and held your little boy in the other as the service proceeded.

You’d only had two grief-filled days with him before he went back to finish his basic training, you couldn’t even figure out whether or not he’d really come to terms with his mama because it all happened so fast. And now you’d only have a few final weeks with your man, all crisp and in shape from basic training, till he was off to a poor war-stricken country in Europe.

With that in mind you remembered to smile, in the knick of time too as Elvis looked up at you after running to pick up the stray ball that had rolled along the grass toward the porch due to your little boy’s poor aim.

He stared up at you like the school boy he used to be, and said with that tone of voice you’d often heard since he first laid eyes on you, “Hey there Cutie”

And like the school girl you used to be, you’d blush and only offer a small smile as you waved him off, “Go play with your son”

Elvis gave you that look, he wanted to say something he couldn’t say in front of young ears. He got up, ball in one hand while he wore his leather brown mitt on the other, with each step up the wood porch his smile grew, you could feel his curled lips on your cheek as he leaned down to kiss it.

Then quietly he’d murmur in a cooing, baby-talk type tone, 

“Daddy wants to play with Mama though”

You rolled your eyes and put a placating hand on his clean-shaven cheek. After leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips you spoke quietly with that same baby-talk curve to your voice,

“Daddy can play with Mama when Baby goes to bed”

Elvis smiled softly at you and mumbled out a soft and assured, “Alright”, before stepping away to go back down onto the grass, giving Francis, or as Elvis nicknamed him, Frankie, an underhanded toss of the ball.

You turned one last time to the other chair and the empty cushion on it, you couldn’t look at it anymore. Thankfully you were needed elsewhere as you could smell the roast in the oven drift through the window of the kitchen out onto the porch.

After going inside as you tended to the food you could watch Francis and Elvis play about in the yard, it was quite big, but the two of them only remained within a small portion, part of the reason could’ve been because Francis couldn’t yet throw very far.

The sun was setting and the light practically flickered off of Elvis’ hair. Now being in the army he didn’t bother with that black dye, it would just be washed out as soon as he was back at base after all. And it wasn’t like he’d be making movies or releasing songs anytime soon, no not with what he was on his way to do in a few weeks.

You could just barely hear Elvis’ voice as he praised your son, “Frank my boy you might be the Babe Ruth of your generation if ya keep at it”. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile, Elvis talking to Francis as if the four-year-old knew who the Babe was and as if he knew what the word “generation” meant.

It was in Elvis’ nature to talk to children in that way though. He always treated them like little adults. You couldn’t recall a time when Elvis didn’t speak to children that way. His mama had made fun of him for it when Francis was two and he could only remark, “Frank is just people, like you and me are just people”

Oh goodness, you thought of her again.

You don’t think a day goes by when you don’t think about her. Elvis’ mama was a godsend, truly. And while he’d never open up about it, you know it’s affecting Elvis immensely. She was so involved in your life ever since you entered Elvis’ and she was always sweet and welcoming.

You could think back to a time not too long ago when after you’d eloped with Elvis and announced the news of your pregnancy at the young age of 18, your parents kicked you to the curb, but she welcomed you with open arms.

At the time Elvis was still driving a truck he hadn’t yet become the “movie star” that he was now. But despite the financial struggles of her Presley flock, Gladys happily welcomed another bird.

It was just a few months ago, before the whole fiasco of Elvis getting drafted and sent off to basic that you’d had a conversation with her in this very kitchen about that.

You told her how appreciative you’d always be toward her for being so welcoming to you, and she told you with an arm around your shoulder, “I’m a mother Hon, it’s only natural. The two of you were babies when ya had that itty bitty boy of yours, I couldn’t ever leave y’all out in the rain, you know that”

You knew no matter what Elvis would have stuck beside you, you knew he’d always be there to hold your hand. After all, you were mothering his child. But it helped so much more that his mother would be on the other side of you, holding your other hand to help you in whatever way you would allow.

Things were slowly returning to normal within the home, her lack of presence isn’t as pronounced, but that’s because she lives through memory now as more time passes, it’s almost like she’s not gone.

You hope that’s how Elvis viewed it. His stone face didn’t leave any slack for a crack or two, and for once it was getting hard to read him. But you’d continue to hope that it isn’t a facade and that he is okay. Yeah, you’d hope with all your might that your man was doing okay.

-----

Dinner was quiet, whenever your voice, or Elvis’ voice, or Francis’ voice didn’t fill the air, love would keep you all company. Of course as always Elvis got on Francis about playing with his food, having grown up poor Elvis was more sensitive to matters of waste such as that.

But if that was the stress high-point of the evening, then you could call it a good evening.

And as you now sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on Francis’ blanket-covered knee while Elvis kneeled on the floor next to the short, small children’s bed, you had a soft smile play on your lips as Elvis talked on the subject of him leaving in a few weeks.

Elvis and you had been explaining night after night to Francis what would soon happen, why his daddy would be going away for a while and what would happen after. After talking about it quite a bit within the first month of knowing about Elvis’ draft you and he decided it was best to be very open on the subject to make it less daunting when Elvis suddenly left home.

And after Gladys’ death you had to explain to Francis that his daddy’s absence would be different from his grandmother’s absence.

“Ya g-gonna fight bad guys Daddy?”

Elvis smiled and brought his hands up in fists, then with a few shadow-box moves which made Francis laugh, Elvis assured,

“You betcha, gonna give the bad guys one of these! And one of these!”

The little boy laughed, his laugh too big for his body as he bent over on the bed and held onto your arm with both his little hands.

After his precious giggles subsided, Francis sat up and asked curiously, a glimmer of what must’ve been a child’s worry in his eyes as he asked with that stutter that his daddy used to have,

“W-what if the bad, bad guys hurt yo-you Dad-Daddy?”

Your smile fell slightly as you and Elvis made eye contact at the suggestion. Of course that is something that you and Elvis had been careful approaching when it came to explaining this sort of thing to Francis.

You couldn’t explain it without truly worrying the boy, you felt tears prickle your eyes at just the thought. Elvis knew of your worries, he knew that quite a few of the girls you were friends with down at the beauty parlor had husband’s overseas, and that a few of them had gotten the dreaded telegram, along with a folded American flag.

He knew all too well your worries as he’d spent many nights being the one to soothe you back to bed. When he’d feign sleep even though he knew you’d spend mornings staring at him, just wanting to look at him as if you would soon lose this view.

Of course if he had died at war it might be different. Having been in a few films and sung a few hit records, he feared that if he died you might find out about his death through the newspapers. You would either find out through that, or as Elvis heard, on rare special occasions they’d send something much more personal, they’d send chaplains and military officers to tell the grieving widow in person. 

Elvis hoped if he died he’d be that special occasion, that way you wouldn’t be alone when you heard about his death, the same way you were alone when you saw his mother in her state of death.

“Well,”

He started before getting up, and sitting next to you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reached a hand out to rest atop yours which rested on Francis’ knee.

“Listen buddy, that sort of thing might happen, but ya don’t gotta worry. Your daddy’s strong, and he’s gonna get home to you and Mama. He promises.”

Your lip quivered as you tried to smile. Elvis could feel the way your hand tensed under his, he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and mumbled quietly for his little family to hear,

“And ya know I’m not a liar, I wouldn’t piss on ya leg and tell ya it’s rainin’ now would I?”

You abruptly turned your head toward Elvis’ crude analogy and hit his shoulder lightly making him laugh as Francis giggled at his daddy using a “nasty” word. 

As Elvis laughed he stood up and pulled you with him, leaving enough time for you to kiss Francis goodnight before taking you with just a tug of his arm around your hip.

As you reached for the lamp next to your son’s bed your spoke softly,

“Get a good sleep Frannie”

Once you and Elvis were making your way out of the room he teased you softly with his hand still resting at your hip, “Wish ya would stop callin’ him such a girly name, his name’s Francis”

As soon as you closed the door you laughed softly and pointed out, “So he’s Francis when I call him Frannie but he’s not Francis when you call him Frankie?”

Elvis shrugged and popped out a “yup” as he guided you down the hall. Just before reaching the bedroom you told him you remembered you still had some dishes to do and made a B-line to the staircase to head toward the kitchen.

After getting down there and getting the dishes loaded you found yourself standing in front of the sink, staring down at the soapy dishwater with not a thought in mind.

It was Elvis’ voice that pulled you from your trance as he spoke, “Baby?”

You jumped slightly and turned around to see Elvis throwing you a confused half-smile, his red shirt from earlier was off and he was left in just black trousers and his wedding ring. There was a dampened towel on his shoulders, the tips of his hair were slightly wet, likely from having just washed his face.

You sighed softly with a smile at the sight, “I’ll be up in a minute Handsome, just getting some things done”.

Elvis’ neck stretched slightly as he saw the dishes were washed and now laid on the drying rack, he then turned toward the stove to see that the leftovers were put away. You didn’t have anything to do.

He took a few steps forward, till he could comfortably rest his hands at your hips.

“Looks to me like everythin’s been done, why don’tcha head upstairs with me?”

You took a moment to look around and realized he was right, quick on your feet you slid away from his hands and walked over to the oven and opened it, you gestured a hand toward the inside,

“I haven’t cleaned the oven out yet”

Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed as he shook head and mumbled with a hand on his hip,

“Honey, ya never clean the oven out till the 1st of the month, I mean unless things have changed that much since I’ve been at basic…”

You sighed softly. As you gently closed the oven door Elvis walked over to you with a small frown, his hands finding their place at your hips once again as he asked,

“What’s goin’ on Genevieve?”

You bit your lower lip softly, whenever Elvis called you by your name you knew he was serious, there was no wiggling your way out of it, especially now that he had you pressed back against a kitchen counter, his hands gripping your hips with resolution and a look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t letting you go without a fight.

With a shake of your head you looked away from Elvis, suddenly deeming the drying rack a few feet away to be a better view than your half-naked husband. Elvis’ head followed your gaze and suddenly it was him you were looking at again.

“I just, I wish you would stop doing that…”

Elvis looked confused as he ran a hand through his uncombed hair. He really looked different from a few months ago, his jaw was sharp and his cheeks sort of caved in, but not in the way a waif’s would. His hair was a crisp, fall-ish brown, and his body was cut in a way that felt a little foreign.

While he was naturally slim and tall, he was usually still soft and smooth around the edges. You’d realized his first night back from basic that his body was more sharp and angular, and you worried they weren’t feeding him properly. But as he’d been home a week or two now, his body remained sharp and cut, and now your worries were on your own lacking areas, you knew your food couldn’t replace his mama’s but you’d swear if his mama were here, he’d be back to his soft and squishy self.

“Stop doin’ what Hon?”

As your eyes lingered over his body more you’d completely forgotten what you’d first been talking about as you changed the subject by asking, “Are you still hungry?”

Elvis laughed softly and titled his head to the side, “What are ya talkin’ about?”

Your lower lip quivered in worry and concern, it seems all the dulled emotions you’d been feeling lately came together to overpower your own emotional maturity as your lip wobbled pathetically. As Elvis saw the sight his smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he bent down slightly to look you head on. “Oh, Baby, now,” He cupped your cheeks with his hands to keep you from turning away from him. 

There was a soft incredulous laugh that left his lips, “Why are ya cryin?”

As Elvis pulled you close to him, you could feel his body shake with each laugh that left his lips, you knew what he was thinking, it was what he always thought (and sometimes said) whenever you started crying, it was-

“You women and your emotions…”

And just as you would everytime, you’d hit his chest with all your might (which would only evoke another laugh at your pitiful effort) and mumble into his chest wetly, “Stop laughing at me Elvis Aaron Presley.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore Mama, now what was it you wish I would stop doin?”

Your arms around his waist tightened slightly as you thought back to the original topic of discussion. Elvis gave you a moment as he rubbed his chin along the top of your head, ruffling your hair in doing so, but you didn’t care enough to mind.

“I just wish you would stop pretending you’re this indestructible force Elvis.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke,

“Well, I gotta make sure my son knows there ain’t a man better than his Daddy, ya know that Hon”

With a soft sigh you pulled back enough to look Elvis in the eye while your arms remained around his waist.

“I’m talking about with me, Elvis. You do that same thing with me that you do with Francis. You talk to me like I’m a child- Like, like I don’t know what you’re going into, like I haven’t been reading the papers”

Elvis’ smile flatlined as he listened to your words. You continued on.

“I’m your wife Elvis, I know that you’re not some indestructible being.”

As Elvis' eyes lingered away from yours, you placed a hand on his cheek to regain his attention as you could tell he was searching for ways to change the conversation.

“You’re just a man Elvis”

There’s his way out. Elvis bit his lower lip before breaking into a smile as he stared down at you. His hands that were wrapped around your waist fell down to each globe of your ass, giving you a soft squeeze through the fabric of your dress. The abruptness of the action caught your attention as your eyebrow lifted in suspicion and confusion at what he was doing.

Here you were pouring your heart out and he-

“Well, I can admit I am just a man, and a man’s got needs ya know?”

He had a boyish smile on his lips as he said the last part quietly, as if he were a child trying to tempt his mother into letting him get his favorite piece of candy. You knew how this would go, it would go as it always did. You and Elvis would avoid this topic and go on to avoid a few other topics, then in a few weeks or a month you and him would get into a huge argument of all the topics combined just to kiss and make up.

It’s happened often within your relationship, hell, you and him hadn’t fought the entirety of your pregnancy with Francis and on the day your water broke, all hell broke with it as you and Elvis got into a huge argument. You almost gave birth in the house because you refused to have him be the one to drive you to the hospital.

But that would be fine for now, especially when he smiled down at you the way he was now.

Your previous pure look of concern had washed away with a defeated smile as his hands continued to knead the flesh of your ass like dough and his smile only dug into his cheeks further, almost bringing back that full look of them.

With a fond tinge to it, you sighed out,

“You really are just a man”

He brought his nose down to nuzzle against your cheek before pressing his lips against the soft skin, murmuring, “Your man”

“Mhm, my man”

You began to giggle at the ticklish sensation of his lips dragging from your cheek down along the sensitive skin of your neck. You tried tucking your chin into your neck as you continued to let you squealed laughs.

Elvis let out a soft playful growl as he spoke into the skin,

“Flutterin’ around like a bird”

To stop your incessant wiggling Elvis tightened his arms around your waist, his nose changed locations from the crook of your neck to the dip of your collarbone till it landed in the deep neckline of your dress, snug between your breasts as he nuzzled himself into the skin, trying to get a whiff of you in your purest form. 

The smell of you at the end of the day, the light scent of your perfume that somehow lingered late in the day mixed with whatever sweat had tried to grace your body, it was a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

 His lips began to press gentle little kisses at the inside of both your breasts as he tugged at the neckline a bit more, trying to give himself more ground to cover with his lips. You laughed softly and buried your hands in his brown locks as you pressed numerous kisses atop his head.

You could hear him mumble where his head was buried between your breasts,

“Mm kiss me Baby…”

You laughed softly and between pecks on his forehead said, “That’s what I’m doin’”

He finally came up, his eyes lidded slightly as he murmured, “I mean really kiss me”, before kissing you with the same lips he just worshiped the skin of your tits with.

You hummed into the kiss with delighted surprise at the hungry tenderness of it all as Elvis’ body backed you completely against the kitchen counter. He felt around blindly for the counter behind you as he refused to break the kiss and then with two gentle pats to the back of your thighs you jumped up just slightly for him to pick you up by the thighs and push you onto the counter.

Elvis’ hands quickly worked the fabric of your dress, tugging it up till it pooled around your waist and as he pulled away from the kiss to look down between the two of you he was left with the sight of your legs, almost completely bare except for your seamed stockings that ended at your thighs and were held up by the garters connected to your panties.

His hands glided along the thin fabric of your stockings along your calves and thighs, he loved how they felt. You couldn’t help your smile as he admired you. When he stepped back he could pull one of your legs up nice and high so that he could see the seams on the back of your stockings that ran up your legs, giving the illusion that you had much longer legs than you really did.

All his focus was on that leg that he had stretched above your head, pointed to the heavens as he stared with admiration. You, his own point of interest, had betrayed him as your other lonely leg that dangled from the counter stretched forward to dig lightly at the bulge beginning to form in Elvis’ black trousers. Elvis’ brows creased and his eyes closed as his mouth opened to let out a low, heavy breath.

“Oh, Mama…”

Elvis’ grip that held your foot high had loosened at the undoing of his usually calm and collective nature within the act. “Mhm?” You took the opportunity and brought your other foot down to join in on the pushes and presses of your feet into the growing bulge.

He only repeated with a breathy, more defeated voice,

“Oh… Mama…”

His head fell back slightly and his legs looked to be going a little slack, knees bending in the slightest as his hips pushed into the pressure of your feet.

It was only when you attempted to dig your foot’s heel into Elvis’ groin did he make a move, spreading your legs apart and pushing his way between them with an eagerness. His hands were quick as he unclipped your garters, followed by the rough yanking of your stockings off your legs. You were thankful you had stabilized yourself onto the counter with your hands otherwise he might’ve yanked you off it right along with your stockings.

You figured you’d help him as you lifted your ass up and began to shimmy your panties off, having to bite your lip to keep back from whining at the cold slap of the counter against your thighs and warmed heat. As Elvis turned to look at you, his mouth was left slightly agape, he could never get used to the image of his wife being all pliant and pretty for him.

The men he used to work with as a young truck driver told him to never get married to a girl he liked, because when women became wives they lost their appeal, they became prudent and too good for casual sex with their husband. Oh how wrong those men were.

“Spread ‘em f’me Hon”

You obeyed as you watched Elvis kneel down, he had enough height on him to where even kneeling down he could easily be face to face with your bare cunt as you sat on the edge of the counter.

From below he made eye contact with you again and murmured,

“Spread those as well Baby”

You let out a breath at his words, feeling a heat spread from your chest up your neck from the embarrassment of where he was referring, but you’d listen. Your hand hesitantly danced down your body before landing at your cunt, and with a soft, wet sound, your pointer and index finger spread the lips of your pussy apart, giving way for Elvis to see the white discharge that was just edging out of your entrance, you had practically sprung a leak down there.

“You’re so pretty Baby…”

He looked up at you to make sure you knew it before steadying himself by gripping the sides of your thighs before pressing his head further between your legs. His aquiline nose ran along your core before anything else, but his tongue and lips were quick to follow as he licked a stripe up the center.

You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling and tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, the blank ceiling, boring enough for you to be able to focus entirely on the sensations Elvis was filling your body with.

As his tongue poked and prodded at your entrance you let out a cacophony of back-to-back breaths. As he moved his lips lower, his tongue now scraping along that gap of skin between both your holes, his nose was enveloped entirely by your entrance, and you could feel it inside of you.

Then his fingers on one hand reached toward that little nub of nerves that rested atop your pussy like a pretty bow, and like an expert he could easily undo that bow with the twists and turns of his index and middle finger.

That is what made you squirm and squeak, hushing out a high-pitched,

“Elvis..!”

His answer was a hungry hum which only pushed you even further as the low baritone of his hum reverberated in your pussy. “E-Elvis..!”

Your hands burrowed greedily into his hair as you contradicted yourself, while you made it seem like you wanted him off you, you only pushed his nose further and further into your entrance, you might suffocate him at this point. It was as if his life was in the hands of whether or not he could make you come.

You attempted to drive your hips further into his mouth as he pulled you closer with that hand still gripping your thigh.

As his fingers strummed your clit like the strings to a guitar your breathing got uneven as you felt the incoming of those waves of pleasure that only your very own husband could pull from you.

He groaned loudly into your heat as your grip on his hair became painful to the man bearing it, but he’d continue on till he got you to your release.

“Oh fuck Elvis..! I’m, I’m…”

Your hands entangled in his hair began to drive his head completely home as you let out a guttural moan, the pleased pitch cutting off as you’d reached the peak of your pleasure.

Your entire body felt limp, not even having enough strength in your hands to continue holding onto his hair. Elvis’ head remained tucked away long enough for your dress to fall over onto his head and hide him away as he finally pulled away for air.

You watched with tired eyes as his hands came up to pull the fabric off his head, he had the biggest lazy smile gracing his lips as he looked up at you, and for a moment you had a hard time deciphering whether or not the dampness on his face came from his sweat or your own pleasure, you settled on it being a mix.

“I make ya feel good Honey? Played with Mama just right, hm?”

He slowly stood up and brought the fabric of the dress up with him.

“You always do Elvis,”

He hummed with a smile and brought the wrung up fabric to your mouth with one hand and tugged your chin down with the other, leaving room for him to set the fabric between your lips for you to bite down on.

“Good, now, you’re gonna help Daddy feel good too now right? Gonna sit still f’me right?”

You hummed, “Mhm”, feeling eager to please the man after the trip he just sent you on. Elvis smiled down at you as he watched you hold the fabric between your teeth.

The fumbling of Elvis’ hands undoing his trousers was momentary as he’d become a bit of an expert at undoing his pants in the years you two have been married. You watched with blown out eyes as his dick shot up against his pubes and stomach as it was freed from the confines of Elvis’ pants and underwear.

Your legs were already spread and ready, your hole was already warmed up and loosened, you were his for the taking. 

As Elvis took a step forward he tugged you just slightly closer to him before lining his uncut cock along your hole. Then he pushed in. His eyebrows creased from the pain of needing to be patient at this part, trying to find a good balance of needing to be watchful of your expression while wanting to watch as his foreskin begins to prematurely slide back before he’s even completely inside of your warm pussy.

“It’s goin’ in smooth Honey? N-no burn or anythin’ right Baby? I can keep goin’?”

You hummed out a quick, “Mhm”, with an eager nod of your head, and you could see the relief spread along his face at not needing to wait, because to be quite truthful he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

Elvis kept a hand on his base as he guided the rest in and when he was fully in, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, practically pulling you off the counter as he wanted to be as close to you as possible while he pressed kisses along your neck.

“Fuck Baby, feel so good,” He groaned softly as he pulled out slightly just to shove his way back in, eliciting a used squeak from you as he did so. “Think that I still haven’t broken ya in properly after bein’ at basic f’so long huh?”

You could only moan softly at his words as you kept the fabric of your dress clenched between your teeth. As he repeated a similar motion he mumbled into the skin of your neck,

“It’s alright Honey, we’ll make more room in there, make more room for a little one or two…”

You wiggled slightly only for his body to press impossibly closer as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Just need ya to sit” he pulled out just to harshly press back in, evoking a whimper from you, “still.”

Elvis’ thrusts became fuller and more drawn out with every second that passed and every moan that left your lips. He was a chatty lover, and while he liked to believe he was talking you through it all, it was really himself he was talking through the motions of sex. He had a strange anxiety when it came to sex that had only shown itself since his takeoff in the entertainment business.

“Gonna fill ya so full of me, gonna leave a piece of myself here to watch over ya Honey,”

Your noises continued to be muffled by the fabric that was becoming soaked in saliva from being kept in your mouth for so long.

The build-up of precum that had been filling your insides made for a wonderful lubricant, even better than your body’s natural one. Elvis’ hips continued to thrust roughly into you. As the speed doubled, even tripled, Elvis’ breaths and voice got raspy.

You were certain he’d bruised your cervix by now, but the desperate rasp of his voice left you as gooey as your insides were.

“Shit, this is it..!”

Elvis buried face into your neck and you felt the heat of his breath sprawl across your skin as he groaned throatily. The animalistic, rhythmic pace of his hips dying down to slow downward grinds. He slurred out as he came down from that peak of pleasure,

“So good… So fucking good…”

Finally as his body came to a rest you spit out the fabric and inhaled as much air as possible through your mouth.

As Elvis geared himself to pull out, your arms wrapped around his neck abruptly as you held him close, mumbling a soft, “Don’t.” as you did so.

Elvis’ body felt stiff for a moment as he asked with hushed concern,

“W-why? Did I hurt ya Hon? You know you’re supposed to tell-”

You stopped his sentence short with a quiet,

“No, you didn’t hurt me. Just, wanna be with you a little longer. You don’t mind do ya?”

Elvis let out a breath of relief to hear that. He’d never want to hurt you. So in that moment of silence he held you close and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting his nose linger on that pulse point that he watched you apply perfume on every morning for the past 4 years.

And you carded your fingers through his hair, kissing the skin of his head as a form of apology for how rough you were with it earlier.

His voice was like honey, sweet and thick as he assured,

“Of course not. I wanna be with you all the time, otherwise I wouldn't have married ya”

You smiled and remarked into his hair,

"Smartass..."

To which he fondly mumbled,

"Cutie"

This was more a passion piece, just because I really wanted to write something involving those pictures, seriously he's such a dad.

The masterlist will be posted and linked as soon as I get up from my nap! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!!

Taglist Lovelies: @suraemoon, @drtyelvisfantasy, @mydarlingelvis, @astral-eyed-cat, @lialocklear, @obsessedvibee, @sexystarfish, @everythingelvispresley, @thebardotreincarnate, @prettyprissyblvd

[presley4president]

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