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bibzs-stuff · 7 months ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - PT.7

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 1972. Fame, wealth, and the haunting allure of Elvis Presley—everything Y/N could ever want, except the one thing that really matters: a simple, normal life. Hired as the nanny for Lisa Marie Presley, Y/N is thrown into the heart of the Presley world, where she quickly becomes more than just a caretaker for Elvis's daughter. As Priscilla remains distant, Y/N steps in, offering Lisa Marie the affection and attention she craves. But it’s Elvis, cold and aloof at first, who soon becomes captivated by her. With 15 years between them, Elvis begins to blur the lines between professional and personal, showering Y/N with gifts and flirting dangerously. He may be married, but that doesn't stop him from wanting Y/N. Torn between duty and desire, Y/N must face the growing tension, knowing that giving in could shatter everything she’s worked for. Will she resist the King of Rock and Roll, or will his love prove impossible to escape?

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Cussing, cheating, age gap (Elvis is 37, reader is 22), SMUTTT, reader having a flashback of her and Elvis fucking the night before, creampie, mention of pain, p in v, unprotected sex, kissing, Elvis mention the Colonel (😰), a LOT of kissing.

The first thing you felt when you stirred awake was the throbbing in your head, a deep, relentless ache that made it impossible to fully open your eyes. You groaned softly, the sound barely escaping your dry throat, as you shifted against the sheets. Then, another sensation hit—a dull ache between your thighs, foreign and undeniable.

Your brows furrowed as your mind raced to catch up, flashes of the night before playing in broken fragments behind your closed eyes. The drinks. The laughter. Elvis's smoldering gaze, the way his hands had felt on your skin…

Your breath hitched, and your eyes flew open. The dim morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, and as your vision adjusted, you realized with a start that you weren’t alone. Elvis was sprawled across your chest, his head resting just above your heart, his dark hair a mess of waves against your skin. His arm was draped lazily over your waist, holding you in place as if he’d been afraid you’d vanish overnight.

You froze, your entire body stiffening beneath him. The weight of his body was comforting yet overwhelming, a stark reminder of just how real everything was. Your bare skin brushed against his, and heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized just how exposed you were. The events of last night slammed into you like a freight train.

your breathy, drunk, pathetic moans and whimpers echoed against the walls of Graceland, as well as the squelching sound your sopping pussy was making due to the fact Elvis hadn’t stop for about half an hour

you’d already came twice, but Elvis just wasn’t letting up.

“fuck, this pussy just loves mah cock huh?” Elvis groans out, his grip on your hips painfully tight as he stops you from wiggling away. his hips snapped against your plush ass at an inhumane pace, the recoil making his head hazy

“E-Elvis ! too much!�� you squeal miserably, your hands flailing to his as you try pry him off. but the of course backfires as he grips your wrists, binding them together behind your back. your makeup was all smudged against Elvis pillows, your hair all messy too

Elvis found it mesmerising though, his body entranced as he kept up his pace. your drunk moans bounced off the walls, the sounds growing louder and louder as you felt the coil in your stomach started to tighten

Elvis felt your pussy flutter and clench around him, the feeling causing him to let out a moan of his own, a moan that sounded more like a whimper with how drunk he was. he knew you were close, and he was too. “tha’s it baby, cum f’me” he groans, eyebrows furrowing up in pleasure as you tighten around him like a vice

his free hand snaked under your stomach to rub on your puffy button, the feeling overstimulating but so pleasuring at the same time. your fists clenched, somehow still held in place as Elvis still held them tight against the small of your back

with Elvis's words and the feeling of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, you finally managed the energy to cum, a scream leaving your kiss-bitten lips as your creamy release spilled from your hole

Elvis' eyes rolled back into his head, letting out a guttural groan as he too came, his warm cum coating your plushy walls white, he didn't care that he hadn't pulled out. he fell against your back, his breath fanning against your plush cheek. “best pussy I ever fucked” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek

A sudden movement brought you back to the present, and you glanced down to see Elvis shifting slightly against you. His head pressed closer to your chest, his messy waves brushing against your bare skin. His arm, draped possessively over your waist, tightened instinctively, pinning you in place. His face looked softer in sleep, his features relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity he carried while awake.

Your cheeks burned, and you bit your lip, guilt and confusion crashing into you. What did this mean? You glanced at his sleeping face, then at the clock, 7:56AM, heart pounding. You had to get out of here, away from this overwhelming mess of emotions before he woke up. If you stayed, you’d have to face him, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

Carefully, you shifted, trying to slide out from under his arm without waking him. You moved an inch at a time, holding your breath, but the second your foot touched the cool floor, Elvis groaned low in his throat. His arm tightened around you again, and his eyes opened to slits, glaring up at you through the haze of sleep.

“Where the hell d’ya think you’re goin’?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and thick with his Southern drawl. His head lifted slightly off your chest, his brow furrowing as he took in the scene. “You sneakin’ off already?”

Elvis groaned again, letting his head drop back onto your chest with an exaggerated sigh. “Damn it, woman. Can’t even sleep in peace without you stirrin’ around like a damn squirrel.” He shifted off you enough to sit up slightly, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other remained firmly on your hip.

You froze, caught like a deer in headlights. “I… I didn’t want to wake you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Elvis groaned again, rubbing his temples, his expression clouded with irritation. “Yeah, well, ya did,” he muttered, his Southern drawl sharper than usual. “Christ, my head’s splittin’ in two. Feels like I got hit by a damn truck.”

His tone was gruff, but you tried not to take it personally. It was obvious he wasn’t in the best mood—probably because of the hangover. Before you could say anything else, he waved a hand toward the bathroom. “Go on, darlin’. Grab me some aspirin, yeah? And some water while you’re at it.”

You hesitated for a second, glancing down at him. “Um… okay,” you murmured, sliding out of bed carefully while he just turned around to lay his head on his pillow. The cool air hit your bare skin immediately, and you winced as you stood, the sharp ache between your thighs making you stagger slightly.

The soreness from last night’s events made every step feel awkward, and you couldn’t help but walk gingerly toward the bathroom. Your legs wobbled slightly as you tried to maintain your balance, the unfamiliar ache a stark reminder of everything that had happened.

Behind you, you heard Elvis mutter something under his breath, but you kept moving, focusing on finding the aspirin. The light in the bathroom was harsh, and you squinted against it as you rummaged through the medicine cabinet. Finally, you found the bottle, grabbed a glass of water that was on the counter, filling it and made your way back to the bed.

Elvis was sitting up now, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his face. When he looked up and saw you walking back toward him, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes traveled lazily over your body, lingering just a little too long.

“Well, if ya ain't a sight for sore eyes,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. He reached for the aspirin, his gaze still fixed on you. “Darlin’, you got one hell of a nice ass...”

Your cheeks flushed bright red, and you quickly handed him the water, avoiding his gaze. “Here,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis chuckled, popping the aspirin into his mouth and downing it with the water. “Don’t go actin’ all shy now, honey. Ain’t like I didn’t see every inch of ya last night.”

You swallowed hard, your face burning as you stood there awkwardly. Elvis leaned back against the headboard with a sigh, his expression softening slightly as he watched you. “Relax, darlin’. I’m just teasin’,” he murmured, his voice a little gentler now. “Come on back to bed. Let’s take it slow this mornin’.”

You hesitated, still flustered, but eventually nodded, slipping back under the covers. As you settled in beside him, Elvis reached out, pulling you close against his chest. Despite his earlier gruffness, there was something comforting about the way he held you, his hand stroking your back lazily.

You sighed, the questions swirling in your mind too heavy to ignore. Finally, you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“What happens now?” you asked softly, your voice trembling. “What about us? What about Priscilla?”

Elvis, leaning back against the headboard with one hand rubbing his temple, let out a low groan. His hangover was clearly still lingering, but your words seemed to cut through his haze. He dropped his hand and turned his sharp gaze to you, his brows furrowed.

“Lil’ mama, don’t start that now,” he muttered, his Southern drawl thick and edged with frustration. “My head’s already poundin’ like a damn drum.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I’m serious, Elvis,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what any of this means… last night, I mean. And I don’t know where I fit in all this.”

He groaned again, tipping his head back against the headboard, clearly irritated but trying to rein it in. “I didn’t plan for this, ya know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Didn’t expect it. Hell, wasn’t even lookin’ for it.”

The vulnerability in his tone was fleeting, but it was there, and it hit you in a way that made your chest tighten. Still, it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm of doubts in your mind.

“What about Priscilla?” you pressed, your voice trembling again.

Elvis’s expression darkened, and he let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Jerry talked to me yesterday,” he said after a moment, his voice rough. “Said we gotta talk today… ‘bout her.”

The mention of her name sent a sharp pang through you. Your thoughts immediately went back to what Lisa Marie had said so innocently yesterday : “Mama kissed her lover.”

“What’s Jerry gonna say?” you asked cautiously, your voice hesitant.

“Hell if I know,” Elvis muttered, rubbing his face with one hand. “Probably some bullshit ‘bout sortin’ things out. That’s all he said.”

“Sort things out?” you echoed, your stomach twisting.

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Yeah, whatever the hell that means. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

You stared at him, trying to read his expression, but it was unreadable—somewhere between anger, exhaustion, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Elvis,” you said softly, drawing his attention back to you. “I just… I don’t want to be a mistake.”

His eyes softened at your words, and he sighed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Lil’ mama,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, “you ain’t no damn mistake. Don’t ever think that.”

The warmth in his voice made your chest ache, but the uncertainty in his words lingered, heavy and unshakable.

“But I can’t promise you nothin’ right now,” he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. “Everything’s a damn mess. Priscilla, the Colonel, my career—all of it. I’m just tryin’ to keep my head above water here.”

You nodded, biting your lip to hold back the tears threatening to spill. The vulnerability in his tone was real, but it didn’t make the situation any less complicated.

Elvis sighed again, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just… give me some time to figure this shit out, alright?”

You nodded again, but the ache in your chest didn’t fade. Whatever came next, you knew it wouldn’t be simple.

Elvis leaned back against the headboard, his dark hair still mussed from sleep. His piercing blue eyes softened slightly as they fixed on you, though his expression held a stubborn determination. You felt the weight of his gaze, the silence between you thick as he seemed to gather his thoughts.

“Listen here, lil’ mama,” he said finally, his voice low and gravelly, laced with his unmistakable Southern drawl. “I ain’t lettin’ ya run off today. I want ya here, close to me. Wanna keep ya at Graceland, where I can see ya, talk to ya—hell, just be near ya. I don’t wantcha disappearin’, not after last night.”

His words landed heavily in your chest, your breath hitching as your heart thudded in your ears. You blinked, unsure of how to respond. It felt like too much all at once—his request, the intensity of his gaze, the lingering ache in your body from the night before.

“Elvis, I can’t just stay here,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have anything with me. No clothes, no—”

“Then we’ll go get ‘em,” he interrupted, his tone firm as his hand slid to rest on your thigh. The warmth of his touch grounded you, even as his insistence sent your mind spiraling.

“What?” you managed, your voice a mix of disbelief and hesitation.

“We’ll go to your place,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most natural solution in the world. “You grab what ya need, and we come back here. Ain’t no big deal, lil’ mama.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The thought of Elvis, stepping into your tiny apartment made your stomach twist with anxiety. It wasn’t just small; it was a far cry from the luxury of Graceland, and you couldn’t imagine him in a space so modest.

“Elvis…” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “My place… it’s not like Graceland. It’s small, and it’s—”

“I don’t give a damn ‘bout that,” he cut you off, his voice sharp but not unkind. His hand tightened on your thigh, a reassuring squeeze that made your heart flutter despite your nerves. “I ain’t expectin’ no palace, darlin’. I care ‘bout you, not where ya live. Hell, I’ll even wait in the car if it makes ya feel better. But you’re not goin’ off on your own.”

His words left no room for argument, his tone as unyielding as the grip he held on your gaze. You swallowed hard, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of everything. The weight of last night, the intensity of his attention, the sheer force of his presence—it all felt overwhelming.

But beneath it all, there was a flicker of something warmer, something steadier. He wasn’t pushing you away, wasn’t pretending last night hadn’t happened. Instead, he was making it clear—he wanted you here, with him.

“Okay,” you whispered finally, your voice barely above a breath. “If you’re sure…”

“‘Course I'm sure, lil mama...say, how ‘bout we take a shower together?” His voice was softer now, almost a coaxing murmur.

Elvis watched as you hesitated, his expression softening with a hint of amusement. His eyes never wavered from yours, that familiar glint in them that seemed to say he was ready to have his way no matter the situation. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity as you slowly nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But… we’re just cleaning up, right?”

“Of course, darlin’,” Elvis replied, his smirk widening. “Just a quick clean-up. Promise.”

With that, he held out his hand to you, and you took it, letting him pull you towards the bathroom. The room was large, the shower big enough for the two of you to stand comfortably. Elvis stepped in first, water already cascading down from the overhead nozzle, and turned to extend his hand back to you.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping in, the warm water hitting your skin making you shiver with relief. Elvis was already starting to lather up his hands with soap when you joined him under the spray. He turned to you, his grin mischievous as he reached for the bottle of shampoo.

“Now, let’s get those curls cleaned up, lil’ mama,” he said, his voice soft but playful. He tilted his head as he smoothed the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging gently at your scalp. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling, and couldn’t help but laugh softly at the way he fussed over you.

“Feels nice,” you admitted, the tension in your shoulders easing as he rinsed your hair under the spray.

“You look better with clean hair,” Elvis commented with a wink, his hands reaching for the bottle of conditioner next. He poured a generous amount into his hands and worked it through your hair, a hint of seriousness in his touch as he concentrated on his task.

As the water continued to wash over you, you felt his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against your temple as he murmured, “Feels good, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, a shiver running down your spine as you turned to face him. His hands moved to your back, lathering up the soap, and you did the same for him, your fingers exploring the ridges of his muscles as you started washing away the remnants of the night before.

Together, you scrubbed each other down, laughter bubbling up between kisses as the steam filled the room. Elvis’s laughter was rich and deep, vibrating against your lips as he pulled you close again. His hands traced the curves of your body, fingers lingering on your waist, his touch soft and intimate.

After a few more minutes of playful washing, Elvis stepped back, his eyes locking onto yours. “Let’s get out of here, darlin’,” he suggested, his voice lower now, husky with desire. He grabbed a towel and reached out to you, helping you step out of the shower.

You stepped onto the bathroom mat, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat from the water. Elvis wrapped a towel around your shoulders and gently dried you off, his touch tender as he moved to do the same for himself.

“Feel better?” he asked, his hands brushing your shoulders.

He led you to the bathroom counter, where he sat you down gently before standing between your legs. You leaned in, kissing him softly, his hands cupping your cheeks as he returned the kiss with equal softness. The lingering taste of soap and water added an edge to the intimacy, grounding you both in the moment.

“Now,” Elvis said, his voice low and tender as he brushed a damp curl away from your face. “Let’s get dressed, lil’ mama.”

You nodded, reaching for your clothes as he rummaged through the drawers for his own. Elvis pulled on his jeans first, his movements slow and deliberate, and then offered you your clothes, a small smile playing at his lips.

As you both finished getting dressed, Elvis helped you down from the counter and led you out of the bathroom. You walked hand in hand down the hall to the staircase that led downstairs. The soft light of early morning filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. It was a different scene from the night before, filled with calm and the promise of a new day.

As you reached the bottom of the staircase, Elvis glanced at you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Ready to go, lil’ mama?”

You nodded, your heart still racing from the intimacy of the shower. “Yeah, I think so.”

Elvis led you out to the front door, his presence a steady comfort as you walked through the empty mansion. The house seemed large and echoing in the early morning hours, but it was easy to forget that with Elvis right beside you. You stepped out onto the front porch, and Elvis opened the car door for you, helping you inside a classic black Stutz Blackhawk. The leather seats were soft under your fingers, and you settled in, watching as Elvis rounded the front of the car and climbed in behind the wheel.

He started the engine with a purr, the Stutz gliding smoothly down the long driveway. As he drove, you glanced over at him, the lingering thoughts from the night before mixing with the early morning haze.

“Where to, Elvis?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He glanced at you, his eyes holding a glint of mischief. “darlin’. I already know where we’re goin’, but I need you to tell me where it is.”

You gave a small nod, grateful that he hadn’t just taken you without asking. “It’s just a little apartment downtown,” you said softly. “Not far from here, but not exactly close either, at Whiteheaven”

Elvis’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “How far are we talkin’?”

“About twenty minutes or so,” you replied. “If there’s no traffic.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the car’s tires humming on the pavement filling the silence.

Then, Elvis’s voice broke through the quiet. “You know, I’d like you to spend the whole week with me at Graceland,” he said, his tone casual but with a hint of expectation.

You glanced at him, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flitting across your face. “The whole week?”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, lil’ mama. I like the idea of you bein’ here with me.”

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of what to say. But as you thought about everything—the comfort of his presence, the safety of Graceland, the memories of the night before—you realized there was no reason to argue. And for once, without hesitation, you said, “Yes, Elvis. I’ll stay.”

His gaze shifted to you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft but pleased. “I like the sound of that.”

He continued to drive, the car gliding effortlessly along the road. You turned your attention back to the scenery outside the window, watching as the city lights blurred by in a haze of early morning blue. There was a sense of ease now, a comfort in knowing that you were with Elvis, that he wanted you around.

To be continued...

Look how cute my baby is 🥹

Tags : @jhoneybees @syerra-637 @pxpresley

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