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[mahg-stuff]

To that lovely anon who sent the 60s!elvis x horror scriptwriter request *muwahh* 💋 I have such ideas for it! Stay tuned!! Should be out this week or so coming up! <3

- honey

[mahg-stuff]

Daddy loves his shades. Elvis Presley, early April, 1972.

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

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AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @that-hotdog

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here.

[mahg-stuff]

Elvis photographed in Los Angeles, CA, May 11, 1974.

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

Sunup Hues - a bd!elvis b-day special!

⸻

AN: Hello loves! I decided to give ya'll a late bde birthday special! 'Sunup Hues’. I got this idea very, very early in the morning due to tossing and turning in bed all night. I'm not sure why but the idea of a moody volatile elvis on his birthday morning intrigued me! He's bit of a man in this drabble which I *caugh, cough* am weak for sometimes. I definitely captured some of 'his doll' essence in here although I did not intend for but, my fingers just typed away. Okay! Excuse my yapping, enjoy my darlings!

- also, tysm to every one of you loves who enjoyed and rb 'bitty'! ♡

Now enjoy! & pls excuse any errors! 🫶🏻

- a drabble so 1-2k words?! Summary: He had all kinds of sides, you never knew which one you'd get, but either way, you were content, tending to whatever one he gave you. Like a chameleon, he was constantly quick to shift hues. Pairing: bd!elvis x afab!reader Warning’s: I'll be presenting you a moody/capricious!elvis, mention of elvis' pill use and sleep issues, e sorta having an ego and being assertive towards reader, fluff!!, pet names, age gap (not implied), bby talk, just kissing and cuddles here, use of word daddy (only once), power dynamics

You'd woken up early this morning, excited to celebrate his day. You felt the warmth of his body next to you and heard the soft snores he let out. Lifting your head a tiny bit to peek over at him, to your surprise, he was in a peaceful slumber. You admired him for a bit, your eyes going from sunken ones to his pillowy lips that were a bit agape. You smiled to yourself, you liked seeing him in this unconventional form.

Elvis had asked everyone beforehand not to pay him a visit today, he'd told them they could just come by the following day. Besides you, naturally, he'd always asserted that you were his little angel and felt at peace when you were by his side.

Since you first started dating you'd noticed how his moods were constantly fluctuating. Whether he’d been too pilled up or hadn't had enough sleep, which was less and less these days, you had gotten familiar with his behaviors and how quickly they could change. You had observed yesterday that, following his late show, he appeared very worn out and lethargic.

So, of course you were debating whether or not to wake him up, and as you thought about it, you recalled that he had mentioned how much fun you two would have at Graceland. He’d promised you to go golf cart riding together out back and, overall, just have a lovely time together all day in Graceland.

You'd even heard him mumble to himself, "Just like old times," with a smile but bleak eyes.

Given that he had sounded upbeat (to you) about his plans for the day before, that darling little mind of yours decided it would be best to wake him.

You pulled the comfy covers off your body, sitting up on your knees in your frilly underpants to face him. You beamed at his sleeping form, some of his wiry chest hair peeking out of his silk pajama button-up.

“El.” You whisper as you leaned over and lightly tugged at his shirt.

You were sure to be gentle, it troubled you a tiny bit, waking him up when you'd known he didn't get much rest. You pause for a moment and back away from him, you sit there in your frilly bottoms and teeny tank, nibbling away at your finger.

"El." Mumbled this time.

He groaned and rolled over, burying his face into a pillow.

"Can't uh man get some sleep 'round here?" he mutters, his mood evident in his tone.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and reluctantly rolls back on his back, not bothering to hide his annoyance at being woken up. You sat there wide-eyed and began to speak softly, but he cut you off.

"Goddamn, honey, you should know not ta wake me up when ah am finally gettin’ rest.” He says this to you vigorously as his eyes narrowed at you.

You moved around the bedsheet's to get closer.

"But El, you said- said we’d spend time together and have a good time for your special day.”

You replied with furrowed brows, sounding like a child.

He takes notice of your contorted face.

“Mm, don’t do that now, it’ll start wrinklin’.”

He nudges you, and you relax your face quickly.

"Ain't fittin' for uh girl like you." He continues.

You frowned when realizing this wasn’t how you'd thought it out to be in your head. As you contemplated your disappointment, he seemed to hone in on your expression.

"What's wida frown, doll? Ah was the one who was woken up," he remarked with an emotionless expression.

“Now would ya lay back down, an’ quit frownin’ lil girl.”

He motions at you, and you bring your hand up to your lips to quite literally wipe that frown off your face.

You lie back down next to him as he brings his arm around you.

“Should be smilin’ your little ass off just ta be lyin’ next to me.” He mumbled more to himself than to you.

"Now hush up button." He said as he pulled you closer to him.

You'd become accustomed to playing the role of complying with his temperaments, always there to fulfill his every whim.

Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of his nurturing side. It's in the little things, like the way he’d brush your hair out of your face or sit you on his lap to read to you. Despite his demanding nature at times, you can't deny that he has brought out a different side in you as well, a softer, more vulnerable side that craves his affection and attention like never before.

His standards had grown on you, and you found yourself bending over backward to please him. It became a cycle of highs and lows, but through it all, you couldn't help but be drawn by his boyish and kiddish side. His playful antics and mischievous grin would always light up the room, reminding you of the carefree joy of childhood. And while his demands could be exhausting, you knew deep down that he just wanted someone to join him in his world, to share in the imagination and wonder that seemed to guide his every move. So you embraced all sides of him, knowing that within this distinctive combination lay a love that was both different and comforting. Well at least to you.

You snuggled against his hefty, soft frame, still a bit dismayed at things not going the way you intended.

Resting your head on his squishy midsection, you felt the warmth of him, you could hear him mumbling his ear off, so you peaked back up at him from your spot. As you looked up, you saw him reading his Bible, his weary eyes scanning the pages with utter concentration. The gentle rustling of the pages and the peaceful atmosphere he was now creating making you ease, this was his escape, his source of solace.

You always enjoyed watching him immerse himself in his faith, the way he’d look, reminding you he still had a little boy inside of him. The weight of his earlier whims and discontent now seemed to fade away in the presence of this shared moment of serenity. You rested against his belly again and relaxed as you heard him sluggishly voice the words of God.

As he continued reading, he took a glance down at you, his sweet girl, whom he'd just denied. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as he saw you resting against him, listening to his words of faith. The words on the pages seemed to blur as guilt started to gnaw at him all of a sudden. How could he have been so selfish toward his little angel? He thought. The excitement he saw in those pretty doe eyes of hers quickly dissipating back when he'd used a tone with her kept replaying in his head now.

He looked at the back of your head, facing him, as you rested your cheek on his gut and held him with one arm. This sight of you quickly shifted his mood, as he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. The contrasting emotions within him, like the bicolor markings on his soul, made it hard for him to keep a steady emotional state.

“Doll, A-Ah know ah made couple uh bargains last nighta, but man, am… am gettin’ old button. Can’t quite keep up wit’ a young girl like yuhself sometimes." He blurted impulsively with a bit of humor.

You mildly smiled to yourself, your mood lifted ever so slightly, hearing his voice shift behind you.

“El, y-you talk like you’ve turned eighty or something.” You said it almost below a whisper as you fiddled with the opening of his pajama shirt.

As you went on fiddling, his snickering filled your ears. The slightest lines on his face deepened as he grinned to himself, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of love for this man.

“The way ah’v lived, seems like ah have.” He grumbled as he looked away.

You kept still and quiet as you snuggled deeper into him. The movement caused him to look back down at the back of your pretty, hair-filled head. There was a moment of silence, and all that could be heard were your soft breaths and the birds chirping outside.

“Hey ther ma little cherub, was u-uh lil harsh on ya, huh." He cooed softly as you continued to rest your head on his upper belly.

“Her's was only tryna spend time with ‘er good ol' daddy on, on his ‘pecial day." He continued as he petted your hair, causing you to sigh with contentment, you unwind more as you also listened to the sound of his gold cuban bracelet swishing around his wrist.

He gently wrapped his longsome-fingered hand around your cheek to bring you up closer to look at him. He smiled, but you still saw that tiredness in those precious blue eyes, the back of your mind mentally cursing at you.

You couldn't help but feel culpable about waking him up so soon on his day.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice filled with remorse.

He shook his head gently, his hand still cupping your cheek.

"No, no needa ‘pologize, angel," he said, his voice baritoned.

"It's not yur fault," he reassured you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

“I would do anythin' for ya, even if it means sacrificin' a little rest on ma birday."

His words melted away the guilt—barely, bringing a weak smile to your pouty lips for him. He leaned in and gently pushed you on your back, he moved from his position and hovered over you as he now lay between your sprawled legs. You felt the pudnginess of his belly press against you as he shifted his weight, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your tiny tank.

His hands traveled to one of the straps of your shirt and toyed around with it.

“She's hasn't wished em happy birthday." He spoke kiddishly with pursed lips.

You giggled lightly, your fingers now tracing circles on his supple warm chest.

“Happiest birthday to you, El." You voiced softly, as you brought your hand up to his chubby cheek. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his pillowy lips as a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Sweet as ever, button'," he drawled as you met with his disoriented gaze. You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him fully down to you, his face barried into your neck and his body fully covering yours.

As you both held each other, enjoying one another's embrace, you felt his hand slowly trailing down your back, reaching for your rear. You could feel the heaviness of his touch through the fabric of your frilly bottoms.

His Southern voice rumbled softly in your ear as he murmured, "Ain't nothin' sweeter than findin' my birday cake right heer in ma arms."

You let out a light giggle at his remark as you felt your face heat up at his groping.

“Oh, you." You mumbled as your face pressed against his silk pajama top, snuggling closer at the comforting warmth radiating off his pudgy chest.

• Master List

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @myradiaz @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here. ♡

[mahg-stuff]

Elvis at Kerr's Sporting Goods Store (one of his favorite stores) where he purchased most of his guns, Beverly Hills, somewhere in 1974.

[mahg-stuff]

[mahg-stuff]

✿ Hello there, lovely’s. A few tweaks were made, merely letting the darling's that perhaps have read it know, assuming they'd like to read the updated version. ✿

- Honey ♡

• Master List

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @myradiaz @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart

—

𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦

dating from ca. 1977

Summary: Big Daddy discovers you snooping around in his room while visiting his home, eliciting emotions you never knew you could feel.

Pairing: bd!elvis x innocent afab!reader

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: bit’s of fluff, baby talk, 18+!, thigh riding/dry humping, premature orgasm f!receiving, feet stuff or shall I say… sooties, size kink, big age gap (reader is eighteen & e is in his fourties), light manhandling, corrupting innocence, reader being oblivious, may be disturbing for certain readers!?… that’s about all

AN: Starting off the New Year right for my lovely's! This story was very very delayed due to writers block. I apologize for the slow uploads. Hope this reaches the Anon that was asking about involving the readers “yittle sooties”.

This one is shorter than my first story but I promise it will not disappoint! (I hope) Looking forward to becoming more active for ya'll this year. I also like to thank those of you still liking and reading 'his doll'. By all means enjoy this story as well lovely's! Bde made me weak while writing this. The urge to give this man anything and everything is beyond me, truly.

Midsummer of year '77, in Memphis.

"So, w'dya think y/n?", Nellie called out as she fiddled with a daisy she had just plucked from the bush she was sitting by.

You both sat under the shade of a tall umbrella in the middle of a glass table in Nellie's backyard. You raised your bright, big eyes from the glass of lemonade you were guzzling due to the hot early Memphis weather and met Nellie's gaze, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Think I shouldn't." You whispered and saw a frown appear on her lips.

"N-Nellie, what would be the fun of joinin' y'all's date anyway?" you asked with your small voice.

Nellie smirked and playfully tossed the daisy at you. You caught it by surprise.

"Oh, come on," she teased, leaning back in her chair.

"I promise it'll be a blast," Nellie replied, her voice filled with excitement.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of curiosity and intrigue as she continued.

"We're plannin' to go hang at his boss' house, heard he's havin' uh small get-together with some pretty interesting folk."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Nellie's description of the gathering.

"Interesting folk?" you repeated, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Nellie nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yeah, apparently his boss is a well-known man here in Memphis."

As the warm sun beat down on you both, Nellie's words rang through your ears, and you raised an eyebrow. Nellie grinned mischievously, her southern drawl becoming more pronounced.

"My fella happens to be his right-hand man."

You couldn't help but giggle, thinking about who this well-known man could be. Nellie, however, was eager to share all the details with you.

"Well? You up for joinin' us this afternoon?" Nellie asked.

You paused for a moment, taking in all the information Nellie had just shared. The idea of spending the afternoon at the house of the Elvis Presley with others seemed unreal to you.

"Hmm, I'll go, only 'cause I don't believe ya."

Nellie burst into laughter, clearly amused by your skepticism.

"Well, I can't blame ya for not believin' me," she said, wiping away tears of laughter.

"But... what should I tell my momma? I doubt she'd let me get mixed with older folk," you mumbled under your breath.

Nellie's laughter subsided as she pondered your dilemma.

"Well, how about we come up with a lil' white lie?" she suggested mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her proposal.

"We could tell your momma that we're volunteerin' at a local charity event, they have many up durin' summer."

Nellie continued.

"That way, she won't suspect a thing, and we'll have ah perfect alibi."

The idea seemed risky, but you wanted to know whether Nellie was being truthful about this get-together. You also felt like getting out. You couldn't help but smile at Nellie's mischievous suggestion. It was tempting to go along with her idea and create an elaborate story for your mother. As you thought about it, the idea grew on you, and you found yourself agreeing with Nellie. After all, a little adventure and spontaneity never hurt anyone, and it would make for a fun time. Nellie got up from her seat and grabbed your hand.

"Come on, let's give your momma a call and tell 'er you won't be home 'til supper!"

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face as you both ran inside her home and gave your mother a call about where you'd be this whole afternoon. 

Later, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her house, its tinted windows shielding the occupants from prying eyes. Nervousness swirled in your stomach as you watched the bodyguard step out and open the door for you. "Oh, she was bein' serious," you thought in your head. Nellie, standing beside you, looked excited, her eyes darting from the car to you and back again. You both climbed into the car, the leather seats were cool against your skin.

As the door closed behind you, the engine purred to life with a low rumble that vibrated through the car. You couldn't help but smile nervously as the car began to move, its wheels rolling smoothly over the pavement. It was a quiet drive, Nellie had still been doing her makeup as she looked at herself in a small, compact mirror while you fixed the simple white bow you'd pinned on the side of your hair you wore down. You admired Nellie's expertise in applying makeup on the go, managing to achieve a flawless look despite the bumpy ride. Meanwhile, you caught glimpses of the passing scenery through the window—the vibrant colors of flowers and tall trees blending together in a pretty landscape. The gentle breeze brushed against your face as the car continued to glide along the quiet road, creating a peaceful atmosphere. 

As you approached a magnificent mansion, your eyes widened in awe. It stood tall with its beautiful detailing, exuding an air of elegance. The sprawling gardens surrounding the home were a sight to behold, with neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant blooms that added a touch of vibrancy to the serene surroundings. The soft rays of sunlight peeked through the lush bushes, casting a warm glow on the lion statues placed in front of the home's entrance. Everything about this place seemed to transport you to a world of beauty and calmness. The car halted in front of the mansion, and the kind man who drove you both here stepped out, politely opening your car door for both you and Nellie to step out.

As you climbed out of the car, you couldn't help but analyze the mansion before you. Its grand architecture, adorned with intricate details and towering pillars, exuded a sense of timeless elegance. You and Nellie followed the kind man up the sweeping staircase to the entrance. The man kindly opened the door for you both. You could hear some light music playing and some people chattering inside already. You both stepped inside, and Nellie was quickly met with her date, who happened to leave his convo once he saw her enter. He greeted her with a warm smile, and they immediately began conversing.

"Oh right, this is my great friend, y/n." Nellie spoke as she gestured at you with both of her hands.

 You returned the gesture with a polite smile, feeling nervous as you introduced yourself to Nellie's date. He extended his hand and shook yours, introducing himself as Joe. He went on to say to make yourself at home and to ask any of the guys if you needed anything.

Next thing you knew, Nellie had been led away from you by Joe, leaving you standing there feeling slightly awkward. You saw Nellie eye you, and she mouthed, "It'll only be ah minute." And she gave you an encourging smile. You watched as Nellie and Joe disappeared into another room, leaving you momentarily alone in the grand foyer. 

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you glanced around, marveling at the lavishness of the surroundings. The delicate chandelier twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow on the framed photographs that hung on the walls, which happened to be photos of the person himself, Elvis, pictures of when he was younger, and some of his family. It took some time for you to understand that this was indeed Elvis' home, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was here too. While you wouldn't call yourself a devoted fan, you did have a general idea of who the man was and enjoyed his music. You'd seen some articles about him in the press lately, but you wouldn't pay much mind, they seemed to only have poor words to convey regarding him.

You looked around, seeing a few guys scattered in each room, some with women, others not. Everyone seemed to have life experience, so you felt a little out of place as you waltzed in there, as if appearing to be a young girl who had lost her way. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious in your clothes, which shouted your age, while everyone else was dressed rather effortlessly, somehow they made it look lavish and simple.

You went looking for a restroom, wanting to see how you appeared. The mansion's splendor, with its lofty ceilings and lavish furnishings, was evident as you made your way through the halls. Your search for the restroom's location finally paid off when you asked a few guys for help. But for your lack of luck, it was occupied. You looked around to ask someone if there was another one available. You plucked up the guts to approach a man who was standing by himself and asked gently while tapping him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, s-sir, do ya know if there is another restroom nearby?"

The man turned around, revealing a smile on his face. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before he let out a chuckle.

"Oh my, you must be new here," he said with a hint of confidence in his voice.

"Let me show you the way," he offered, motioning for you to follow him.

You felt a touch of nerves as you trailed behind him through a few other people. As you both weaved through them, you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by "new here." Was it that obvious that you were unfamiliar with this place? Finally, he led you to a hidden corner of the mansion where a door stood, almost blending seamlessly with the surrounding walls. But when he went to turn the knob, it was locked tight.

He frowned, his brows furrowing in disappointment.

"I apologize," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

"It seems it's busy as well."

You subconsciously frowned and looked to the side. However, the man's help was unwavering.

"Don't worry," he assured, his eyes glinting with sudden determination.

"Tell ya what kid, you can go ahead and use the one upstairs." He spoke as he walked towards the staircase, and you followed right behind.

"Really? Are you sure?" you asked, optimism in your voice.

The man nodded, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Absolutely, but only 'cause you seem genuine," he replied, gesturing towards the staircase.

You couldn't help but ponder what he meant by that. You hesitated, but you turned towards him, softly asking.

"Sir, w'dya mean by that?"

The man paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours, before finally answering.

"I've seen many people come through here with different intentions," he began.

"Some just wanna snoop around and get their hands on things. But you, my gut's tellin' me, ya don't mean any harm."

He chuckled lightly.

"Just head on up. It's the first door on the right."

You smiled gratefully, but before you could speak, he interrupted.

"Oh, and if anyone happens to ask who let ya up there, tell 'em Charlie."

You thanked him and made your way up the stairs.

As you reached the top, you noticed the worn-out carpet and the faint smell of what seemed to be cigarette smoke. The hallway was dimly lit, but you followed Charlie's instructions and turned right, finding the restroom door just as he had described. You entered, closing and locking the door behind you as you turned on the lights. Looking in the mirror, you eyed yourself and your outfit. You definitely felt out of place with these people—your red shorts that ended just below your cheeks, your crochet halter crop top, and topping it off with some matching flat red Mary Janes along with a bow in your hair. You liked this look, but you weren't sure if it was fit for the group of these people, it wasn't the style but the way you wore it. 

Stepping out of the restroom, feeling a little more relaxed and calm. You decided it was fine to just enjoy yourself, just like Nellie wanted. You couldn't help but wonder if she was looking for you. As you made your way through the hall, an open black cushioned door caught your eye. Looking closer, just enough to gaze inside, you saw it was almost pitch black in broad daylight. It seemed almost like a bat cave, but only had one dim light enough to see the outlines of furniture.

You looked around at your surroundings to see if anyone was around—no one.

You inched closer to the room, realizing it was a bedroom, then you noticed a faint scent of tobacco wafting from within. Curiosity got the best of you, and you cautiously stepped inside, feeling a shiver run down your spine. The air was cool and still, almost as if time had stood still in this mysterious haven.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw elegant curtains draping softly and a plush bed adorned with intricately embroidered pillows. You walked over to a dresser, and atop it, you noticed a few pill bottles scattered here and there, along with a few books stacked near by, with the one on top being a bible.

Looking around, you saw some seeps of smoke coming from the center of the nightstand near the bed and walked towards it. You came across an ash tray with a cigar still smoldering in it, indicating that someone had recently been smoking. Your eyes widen at the thought that someone had just been here, and this was most likely their bedroom. As much as you should have been out the door by now, you couldn't help but be intrigued by a pair of golden glasses lying near the ash tray. You picked them up and examined the purplish tint of the lenses and the EP engraved on the bridge. Curiosity got the better of you as you put them on, finding them surprisingly comfortable but huge on you. While you had them on, you kept trying to figure out what EP might stand for.

Little did you know the owner of those glasses was actually leaning against the doorway, eyeing you up from behind. He suppressed a chuckle watching you try on his glasses—not wanting to interfere in your little adventure.

Oblivious, you continued thinking and kept mumbling to yourself, "Ep, Ep, Ep, what can it stand for?"  

You quickly turned around at the sound of a man clearing his throat, startled to find someone standing by the door. 

"Now what's a young gal like you, doin' snoopin' in uh man's room?"

The man's voice was deep and gruff, sending a shiver down your spine. You stumbled over your words, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for your presence.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, nervously fidgeting with the glasses in your hands that you'd swiftly taken off.

"I ain't mean to, to…"

You couldn't make up his face in this dark room, but you could see his sharp face structure and tall, hefty subrotund frame in what seemed to be a tracksuit. Placing the glasses back on the nightstand, you quietly tried to make your way out, but he flicked on the other dimly lit lamp, revealing a better look at his face. You knew this face but couldn't place your finger on where you had seen it before.

As the light illuminated his features, a sense of familiarity washed over you. His piercing blue eyes and thick, wiry sideburns, which extended down to his soft jawline, were unmistakable. The face of the man you had seen plastered all over magazines and newspapers every now and then—the man you had grown up listening to when you'd be on car rides with your daddy—oh,  those long car rides. It was really Elvis Presley, he had a different look to him then, he looked much more ragged and mature now. His skin still flawless, but a few lines etched here and there. But despite the signs of age, there was still a magnetism about him that could draw anyone in.

It was as if time had not diminished his aura but rather added to it, making him even more captivating. You stared up at him in awe, unable to believe that such a man was standing right in front of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"So, you's gon give me an explanation or..."

Elvis said it with a slight grin, his Southern accent instantly recognizable.

"Cat got cha tongue, honey?" He chuckled weakly, his voice low and velvety, as he studied you a bit.

You managed to muster a nervous titter and finally find your voice.

"I… I really didn't m-mean, ta- Mister you are Elv-"

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, a faint smile widening on his face.

"Well, I'll be dammed, an old man still hip wit' the youngins," he replied with a playful wink.

His charm was undeniable, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You went on to blabber about how, as a little girl, you'd listen to his music any time you'd be around your daddy. He didn't mind your sudden yapping.

He couldn't help but smile a little more, perhaps proud. He scoots down a little closer to meet your height, the scent of him filling the air around you, and puts his arm around you gently. You are almost dwarfed next to him and can't stop thinking about how nice he smells to you, his arm seems to swallow you whole, and it makes you feel small. You observe how he seems to grow in size as he gets nearer to you.

"Well, ain’t that just adorable."

He peers at you, and then, just to give you a little tease, he backs up from the side hug he'd just given you.

"Seems ta me, you's still uh little girl," he chuckles lightly, tousling your hair playfully.

Here you were being teased by Elvis, knowing you'd doubted Nellie's words about him actually being her Joe's boss. You giggled nervously and shook your head.

"No, I h-happen to be eighteen now, mister."

Elvis raises an eyebrow and smirks, his blue eyes lit mischievously.

"Well, ain't cha all grown up then?" he says, his voice coated with amusement.

"But tell me, darlin', what's your name?"

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling disbelief in his presence.

"Well... im y/n." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he whispers, "Y/N, huh? It's ah purty name hon'."

For some reason, you can't help but blush when he says your name.

"Oh, thank's," you replied softly, and a shy, sweet smile spread across your face.

Elvis backs away with a grin and walks over to lounge on the settee that stood in front of the end of his bed. You timidly watched as he sat himself comfortably on the burgundy cushions, stretched his lengthy legs wide, and propped one foot up on the short wooden coffee table in front of him. The dim lighting in the room cast a soft glow on his features, making him look even more mesmerizing. Something about it made you feel a little excited, even though you had no idea what would come next. Elvis, noticing your fretting, reached out a hand towards you. He scanned your outfit up a bit, his eyes stuck on your shorts for a little too long.

"Come sit with me, darlin'."

His baritone voice seemed inviting. His eyes sparkled with charm even though they had a glimpe of somnolence, only luring you towards him. You took his ample hand without hesitation, and as a rush of warmth engulfed you, you overlooked the slight tug he gave you.

But before you could settle on the settee, he interjected, "Hold on uh sec, hon'. Cha be uh sweatheart and fetch me that cigar that's lyin' in the ashtray."

Obediently, you followed his words with a nod and trotted over to the nightstand by the bed to retrieve the already-lit cigar you had seen. He grinned pleasedly and showed off a dimple on his chubby cheek as he saw how quickly you complied. While you reached for it, you couldn't help but notice the other array of trinkets scattered on the nightstand that you hadn't paid attention to before. A worn-out leather wallet, a few costly rings, and a faded photograph caught your eye, each holding a story of its own.

Your back still to him, he was secretly eyeing you up and saw the way your red shorts hugged your small yet bubble bottom. Unbeknownst to you, his gaze lingered for a moment longer, his thoughts momentarily drifting away from the conversation at hand. However, as you turned around, he averted his gaze quickly. You walked over to him and sat on the plush seat next to him. Handing him his cigar, his focus swiftly returned, his eyes meeting yours. You notice the side of his mouth twitch up in a smile. He lets a soft chuckle bubble up inside of him. But his eyes stay focused on yours.

You notice a couple of small crow's feet around his eyes, which you found appealing for some reason. He was much older than the Elvis your daddy had you listening to, but you couldn't deny he was still a looker.

He sat back more, getting comfortable, and took a long, leisurely puff of his cigar. The smoke curled around his face, and he spoke in a deep, hoarse voice.

"Well," he said, his tone filled with intrigue, "how'd yuh end up, up here?"

His question hung in the air for a moment as he awaited your answer.

You shifted in the seat, pondering for a moment, "I was just lookin' for a restroom, but... the ones downstairs were all bein' used."

You paused for a moment, glancing at him, seeing that he was listening so intently to your every word.

"And well, a nice man, goes by the name uh Charlie, told me it'd be fine if I used the one up here."

He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering in comprehension as you finished your explanation, making sure to include all the specifics on how you were intrigued by the cushion door and how you managed to arrive at his home.  

His gaze shifted downward, and a slight grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"It's kinda amusin'," he remarked, his tone laced with humor.

"You look like a bitty girl sittin' here tryna explain yuhself."

You couldn't help but let out another titter at his comment, the tension that had been building up inside you dissipating instantly.

"Well, I am not a 'bitty girl', I swear to you, am not," you retorted playfully.

"Ah."

He leaned forward on the sofa, his sunken eyes still fixed on you.

"I don't think yud go around lyin' to your momma about your whereabouts if you's weren't a 'bitty girl'."

You laughed softly, the innocence in your laughter contrasting with his playful teasing.

"W-Well I guess you got me there," you responded with a twinkle in your eyes.

He grinned at your response, clearly amused by your girlish demeanor. As you continued to engage in playful banter with him, you couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on your attire.

Elvis was thinking of just being cooped up in his grand bedroom for the rest of the evening, but here appeared a lil' thing in tiny cherry red shorts wrapped up in a delicate white bow just for him. He might as well let her stay here to keep him company.

His gaze seemed both curious and intrigued, as if he were trying to decipher the innocence in your appearance. Unconsciously, you found yourself fidgeting with the lace trim on your pretty bow you'd worn in your hair. You wondered what thoughts were crossing his mind.

His gaze was that of a man who was hankering for something.

As you fidgeted with the lace trim on your white bow, Elvis noticed your slight discomfort and smiled warmly.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Here, how 'bout cha get more comfortable?"

Gazing up at him with doe-like eyes and parted lips, you tilted your head slightly and softly replied.

"Oh, but I am comfortable."

Damn, he thought.

He leaned closer to you on the couch, and the size difference between you and him became more apparent. He loomed over you, making you feel little. You couldn't help but be captivated by his presence. The thoughts running through his mind remained a mystery to you, but his gaze spoke volumes.

You were unfamiliar with the emotions that his presence was starting to stir within you. Your heart raced as he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, sending waves down your spine.

His touch was both heavy and comforting, leaving you craving something as you felt goosebumps from the coolness of the few rings his fingers had adorned.

In that moment, you were experiencing a funny feeling in your belly that you had never felt before. You tried to dismiss the strange sensations that overwhelmed you, convincing yourself it was just a passing infatuation of some sort. But as he guided your legs to rest on his lap swiftly, you couldn't deny the growing intensity of those feelings, and a dusty pink spread across your face. His large hand carefully grazed your small ankle, sending shivers up your spine. You couldn't help but notice how the contrast of his stout upper thighs under your delicate calves made you feel funny somewhere.

Elvis watched your gullible response and was enthralled with your innocence. To him, you seemed like a delicate flower, untouched by the harsh realities of the world. He saw your blushing face and recognized the purity in your eyes, making him feel a sudden sense of responsibility over you. As he gently touched your ankle, he noticed how your body reacted as you stiffened a bit, indicating that you were discovering new emotions and even desires for the first time. Elvis understood that he needed to tread carefully with your innocence, it seemed sorta sick but he liked the idea of corrupting that purity you were holding on to, he wanted to be your first taste of that forbidden fruit. He eyed the bareness of your legs in those little red shorts and cleared his throat before taking a puff from his cigar.

As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he watched you intently, savoring the anticipation of what was to come next as you adjusted the hem of your shorts due to them riding up a bit. The way you blithely tugged at the fabric, unaware of the effect it had on him, made it increasingly difficult. The forbidden fruit was within reach, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would succumb to its allure or if you even knew how.

"This fine, baby? Just wan' ya ta feel more comfy."

He said, his gaze never leaving your slender calves as he discreetly adjusted them on his lap. You smiled, completely oblivious to the thoughts passing through his mind.

"Mm, y-yeah. I'm all comfy," you replied softly with a light laugh, unaware of the effect your innocent gestures had on him.

You could still feel those funny feelings swirling within at his touches or his certain stares, but you did your best to brush them off due to the overwhelm it brought you.

As the minutes progressed and you both talked, you noticed an intensifying heat in his gaze and an extra tension in the air, but what could it mean? Each time he brushed against your ankle that lied on his lap or accidentally grazed your thigh, your heart would skip a beat.

"Tell me, what song of mine was yur favorite growin' up?" he whispered softly.

You tittered as you looked into his eyes and said, "Awh, I can't say. It's hard ta choose."

A small smile played on his lips as he leaned closer, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your knee. As he continued to trace patterns on your knee, his touch became incredibly ticklish, causing you to squirm on the sette and your knee to flinch up. He chuckled, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Looks like ah found myself a ticklish bitty girl."

His southern drawl made your heart flutter even more as you tried to suppress your giggles.

"Now darlin', I ain't gon stop ticklin' ya 'til you tell me that song."

His mischievous grin only added to the playful atmosphere as you squirmed and laughed, desperately trying to hold back laughter. The room was filled with a chorus of lively laughter as your attempts to resist his tickling proved futile. Despite your best efforts, you finally gave in, surrendering to the waves of ticklish sensations coursing through you. Between gasps for air and fits of giggles, you managed to blurt out the name of the song he had been teasing you about. Relief washed over you as his tickling finally ceased, but a mischievous glint in his eyes hinted that this playful banter was far from over.

As you regained your composure, you couldn't help but notice his hands fumbling with the buckle of your Mary Janes. A tingle ran down your neck as he slowly loosened the strap, his touch sending a fuzzy sensation through your body. As he removed your red flats, his fingers grazed against your painted nails, eliciting a delightful buzz that made you squirm.

Pink nail polish adorned your toenails, adding an even more feminine look to your dainty feet.

With an impish smirk, he held up one of your feet triumphantly, teasingly declaring, "Look at these yittle beauties!"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement at his playful antics.

"Awh, ya sooties," he chuckled, his voice laced with affection.

"They are so soft an' ittle."

His eyes twinkled in delight as he admired your petite size, fueling his hidden fascination. You blushed at the pet name he had given your feet and giggled.

"Okay, 'kay, that's enough," you say humorously, trying to pull your feet away from his lap.

But he held onto them firmly, refusing to let go.

"No, no, I can't let go uh these adorable yittle's," he protested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You squirmed and laughed—a balance of ticklishness and delight. His playful interest in your feet was endearing, even if it was slightly embarrassing. As you leaned back on the couch, feeling those funny sensations come back stronger, he playfully tried to nibble on your toes. Your face flushes, both surprised and amused by his frolics.

"H-Hey! Watch it!" you exclaimed with a mock stern expression, but giggled still as you placed a hand on his forearm to stop him.

He grinned slyly, his eyes dazzling with devilry.

"Oh, come on, darlin', don't ya be ah spoilsport," he teased, his voice filled with playful insistence.

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence, feeling a warmth spreading through your body. His touch was riveting, sending warmth into your stomach and making your heart race. He notices how you've nearly ended up lying on the couch from his rough tugging. Elvis eases his actions and gently rests your feet back on his lap. Giggling lightly still, you carefully sit up a little and fix your shorts that had ridden up a little too far for comfort.

As you sit up and adjust your shorts, you can't help but marvel at how revamped he looked now. Regardless of the changes, there was still a boyish look on his face that hasn't faded over the years. His hair, tousled and slightly longer than ever before, fell effortlessly across his forehead, giving him an air of casual confidence. You can't help but feel a pang of reminiscence as you remember the countless times you'd come home from school and listen to his records or go on drives with your daddy. You shook your head, the thoughts disappearing as you felt those fuzzy, unfamiliar feelings bubbling in you when you felt him rub your ankles and feet that continued to rest on his lap.

Despite your efforts, you couldn't quite get your shorts to stop riding up. Elvis' gaze traveled down to your feet, lying on his lap. But then he noticed you struggling to keep your shorts in place. An uncontrollable smile tugged at the corners of his lips, charmed by the adorable display of vulnerability.

"Need help, hon'?" he asked, his voice a bit gruff but sweet in a way.

You couldn't understand why, but his words brought a flutter to your chest and a blush to your cheeks once again.

"Uh," you trailed off.

He grinned a bit and removed your calves off his lap to lean towards you, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you to your feet, so you stood in front of where he sat.

"Lemme see, Elvis needa fix these tiny things ya have on."

Blushing even more at the way he spoke with you, you nodded and looked down at your shorts, which were indeed a bit askew. He adjusted the waistband and smoothed out the fabric. You peeked at him and were lost in thought as you stared into his face, but you shivered when you felt his rough, callused fingers brush against your delicate skin as he tugged on the hem of your shorts to keep them from being scrunched up. While he adjusted your shorts, you couldn't suppress the fluttering sensation in your stomach. It was a strange yet tingling feeling, unfamiliar yet enticing. He looked up at you. Noticing your breathing was off, he could tell you hadn’t been properly introduced to whatever you must be feeling. As you stood there, mesmerized by his touch, you caught a glimpse of a subtle smirk playing on his lips. 

He finishes fixing your shorts and lets his large hands rest on your hips, his fingers lightly grazing the skin that was exposed above your waistband.

You give a sweet but timid smile, "Thank ya."

The rosiness in your cheeks became more prominent when you felt a slight tug on your hips as he pulled you more forward, so his knee was in the space between your legs. Your breath hitched, and your attention was momentarily drawn to the cigar still held firmly between his teeth, adding an extra layer of lure to his already magnetic presence. His gaze met yours, filled with impishness.

"What's gotcha all rosy, hon'?" he asks with a cunning smile.

You look away as you bring a hand to your cheek and feel the heat radiating off.

"Oh, I dunno, really," you respond with a light, nervous laugh.

He snickers and takes one hand off your hip to grab a hold of his cigar and place it in the ashtray that is laid on the coffee table behind you. 

His other hand, still resting on your hip, gives you a light squeeze, you can't shake the warm feeling in your tummy his action brings you. He leans back on the couch and pulls your hips closer to him, so his whole leg is between your legs as you stand there. Elvis can't help but beam at how weak and pliable he's making you. His hands go loose as he trails them up around your waist, swiftly pulling you down to him so you're straddling his thigh, your feet dangling just above the ground on either side. He rubs both sides of your waist up and down with his large hands, which causes your stomach to fludder. He admired your doe eyes from this angle, and you let out a little purr as you stared up at him.

The look he sees on your face is one of oblivion. He brings one hand up to your shoulder, gently massaging it as it slowly trails up to the side of your neck.

"Yuh look even more itty bitty, sittin' there, lookin' up at me like that."

He whispers. You suppress a giggle and shoot him a shy grin, his tired eyes lighting up with enjoyment.

"C'mere baby, c'mere," he mumbles as he moves your face closer up to his and then holds the back of your neck. 

His lips meet yours in a soft yet potent kiss, the smell of him completely flooding your senses and making you feel like you are being eaten whole. As elvis’ mouth pressed into yours more, you began convincing yourself that your lips were being mushed against a marshmallow.

Having his fill, he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

Your eyes held a frazzled and vulnerable look, and your lips a bit puffy from his rather harsh assault. You bring your small hand to stroke your lips as you feel the tingles that were left there from his kiss.

He keeps his poker face even though he’s feeling things driven by your pure reaction.

"'Ats the matter, baby? Yur first kiss?"

He chuckles, trying to hide his satisfaction.

Your cheeks pinken, and you nod solemnly, "I-It was."

There could be a slight embarrassment heard in your tone. He laughs even louder playfully and kisses the top of your head, then gently strokes some of your hair until he gets a hold of the end. You feel his knuckles brush against your neck, and it tickles. You giggle a little. 

Despite your nerves, he starts tugging at your hair a little bit—not in a hurtful way, but more like a playful way.

"Don’t say it like it’s uh bad thing, honey. Yur's a baby, uh course it’s your first kiss, hmm."

"Jus as pure as the driven snow, ain't cha."

He chuckles and leans in closer to you.

"Let's try it again bitty."

He announced with a weak smile as he caressed your cheek, which was flaming.

You gave him a subtle nod, and you couldn't help but beam at all the feelings this was bringing you and the cute little name he gave you. It reminded you of the one you had given one of your childhood stuffed animal's you had back in your bedroom.

You felt your heart race with thrill as he leaned in closer to you, his rough hands now moving to your hips. Your lips meet again, and this time, your clumsy way of kissing back intrigues him even more. He takes the lead, his lips pressing against yours with a hint of hunger. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he grips your hips firmer, pulling you closer so your clad cunt is pressed right against his thigh. Your heart pounds in your chest, and a sense of confusion and fever swirls within you.

As the kiss deepens, your inexperience becomes even more evident when he tries to pry his tongue into your mouth, but instead of being put off, he is drawn in by your amateurish way of not knowing what he meant.

"C'mon, baby, open yuh pretty mouth. Wanna give hers uh big girl kiss," he whispers against your pouty lips as he tries to deepen the kiss.

You flush, complying, you part your lips tentatively, and his tongue slides right into your mouth. You try your best to follow his advances, moving your tongue ever so lightly against his. It feels foreign and unfamiliar, but you can hear his pleasure as he sighs into the kiss. His grip on your hips tighten even more as he deepens the kiss, exploring every corner of your mouth with a sense of fervor. That funny, warm, and strange feeling in your belly begins to get stronger. Your heart quickens as you feel him push your hips down, causing your lower half to rub against his thigh.

The feeling overwhelms you, causing you to gasp against his lips. You bring your hand up to press against his puffy chest, searching for some stability and support. While his track jacket's zipper is unzipped just far enough to expose his chest hair, you can feel it tickling your fingers. Startled yet again when he forces your cunt to press firmer against him once more, you instinctively pull away from the kiss, temporarily breaking the intense connection between you. Confused and taken aback, you look into his drowsy eyes, now an even darker tone of saphire, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

"E-Elvis," you gasp out.

Your expression appears to be questioning the unusual feeling you felt within your body.

"Shh, shh... s-s’all right baby," he whispers with that low baritone voice of his as he brings up a hand to rub your arm.

"It'll be good, hmm. Make ya feel good."

He continues to speak in a soothing tone.

Elvis brings his hands back to take hold of your hips and gently guides you to rub your heat against his thigh, causing a surge of unfamiliar pleasure to course through your body. You felt a strange wetness between your legs from what you thought were his "playful" actions. His hands trail down to your shorts, so he's gripping your rear with both hands now. His fingers tighten their grip, subtly urging you to press against his thigh harder.

Feeling the increased pressure, you shuddered and let out in a soft, airy tone, "I-It feels funny."

Your barely audible voice, combined with your jittery body, only heightened his amusement.

"It's uh'k bitty, enjoy it, jus rub that lil' thing ya got on my leg," he murmurs near your ear as he helped guide your hip more rigidly on his thigh, causing your leg to brush against his groin now.

As the sensations intensified, you noticed a large amount of heat growing between your legs. Your breathing quickens as you begin to let out low whimpers, and your body instinctively moves closer to his, seeking more contact. You can feel your heart racing as something starts to build in your lower abdomen.

Elvis amused himself at your reaction, his dark eyes gleaming with greed and satisfaction. The sensation of his thigh pressing and rubbing against your most sensitive spot became practically unbearable when he started bouncing his leg up and down, causing waves of sudden relief to ripple through your entire being.

Your face contorted as a sweet, high-pitched moan escaped your mouth. The sound of you making him throb.

You felt the unexpected surge of a new foreign nirvana engulf you but swiftly pass and your hand jerked restlessly in the air, reaching out to cling your tiny digets onto his pudgy pec in a desperate attempt to maintain stability. As you did so, you heard a muffled noise exit his mouth.

Your delicate quivering thighs automatically try to clamp around his thigh at the sensitivity your body was feeling. He continued to hold your hips down in order to keep you from tumbling over.

"Oh, ya flimsy thang.”

“Done already."

Though he can't help but grin, he says it with raised brows.

"l-"

You whisper beneath your breath.

Your short response only makes him grin more, like you don’t know what you’ve done. 

"Look bitty,"  he motions towards your crotch, and you lean to look down at yourself.

You flush even more at the wet patch on the front of your shorts and on his track pants. You recoil as he lightly brushes the front of your covered cunt upward with the pad of his thumb.

"Means you was feelin' good," he whispers in a low, sultry voice.

The large, protruding lump poised on his groin caught your attention, and you couldn't help but stare. Upon seeing where you were gazing, he snickers.

"Looks like yuh got me goin' bitty."

Your look is still dazed from all you've just gotten through when you meet his heavy stare.

He snatches your face and plants a selfish needful kiss on your lips. It felt like your head was in the clouds.

He murmured, "Ya sounded so pretty," and withdrew.

"Next time, will be better. Lil' thing like ya self needs ta get used to those big feelin's."

He twisted a strand of your hair as he said quietly.

Next time, you thought to yourself.

You continued to sit on his thigh, feeling glorious, swollen, and soft. You both sat there in silence for awhile, you occasionally saw him grope the lump, but you didn't question it. He began caressing your cheek, causing you to look up at him with bright doe eyes.

Meeting those knackered eyes of his—for some reason you wanted to take away what ever had him carrying such a gaze.

Elvis grabbed you and set you fully on his lap, that bulging thing in his track pants now poking at your inner thigh.

"Wanna cuddle hers a bit."

He mumbled as he looked down at you.

The way he spoke to you with that ragged look he bore made you want to give him anything, even if you didn't understand the new feeling's he'd introduced to you. His words and actions conveyed a vulnerability that was both foreign and captivating to you. You couldn’t understand it.

You found yourself torn between wanting to nurture him and wanting to cushion yourself from the overpowering emotions that he brought out of you. Looking into his pretty worn blues, you reached out a weak hand and gently brushed his hair from his face, mutely vowing to be there with him, whatever it may entail. He held you down firmly against him and felt the warmth from the swell of his belly pressing against you—you also felt a warmth radiating off him from down under. His body starting to move in a certain rhythm beneath you, the girthy lump rubbing upward on your thigh, which you were heedless of, you just wanted to hold this man and for him to hold you. Such a sweet clean-handed girl you were.

In that moment, neither Nellie nor your momma crossed your mind for the rest of the evening from there, and on Elvis would be the only thing consuming your all. 

- This is the only account I have and the only platform I’ll be uploading my stories on, just informing in case my stories get stolen and re-uploaded somewhere else.

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @myradiaz @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart

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[mahg-stuff]

𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦

dating from ca. 1977

Summary: Big Daddy discovers you snooping around in his room while visiting his home, eliciting emotions you never knew you could feel.

Pairing: bd!elvis x innocent afab!reader

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: bit’s of fluff, baby talk, 18+!, thigh riding/dry humping, premature orgasm f!receiving, feet stuff or shall I say… sooties, size kink, big age gap (reader is eighteen & e is in his fourties), light manhandling, corrupting innocence, reader being oblivious, may be disturbing for certain readers!?… that’s about all

AN: Starting off the New Year right for my lovely's! This story was very very delayed due to writers block. I apologize for the slow uploads. Hope this reaches the Anon that was asking about involving the readers “yittle sooties”.

This one is shorter than my first story but I promise it will not disappoint! (I hope) Looking forward to becoming more active for ya'll this year. I also like to thank those of you still liking and reading 'his doll'. By all means enjoy this story as well lovely's! Bde made me weak while writing this. The urge to give this man anything and everything is beyond me, truly.

Midsummer of year '77, in Memphis.

"So, w'dya think y/n?", Nellie called out as she fiddled with a daisy she had just plucked from the bush she was sitting by.

You both sat under the shade of a tall umbrella in the middle of a glass table in Nellie's backyard. You raised your bright, big eyes from the glass of lemonade you were guzzling due to the hot early Memphis weather and met Nellie's gaze, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Think I shouldn't." You whispered and saw a frown appear on her lips.

"N-Nellie, what would be the fun of joinin' y'all's date anyway?" you asked with your small voice.

Nellie smirked and playfully tossed the daisy at you. You caught it by surprise.

"Oh, come on," she teased, leaning back in her chair.

"I promise it'll be a blast," Nellie replied, her voice filled with excitement.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of curiosity and intrigue as she continued.

"We're plannin' to go hang at his boss' house, heard he's havin' uh small get-together with some pretty interesting folk."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Nellie's description of the gathering.

"Interesting folk?" you repeated, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Nellie nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yeah, apparently his boss is a well-known man here in Memphis."

As the warm sun beat down on you both, Nellie's words rang through your ears, and you raised an eyebrow. Nellie grinned mischievously, her southern drawl becoming more pronounced.

"My fella happens to be his right-hand man."

You couldn't help but giggle, thinking about who this well-known man could be. Nellie, however, was eager to share all the details with you.

"Well? You up for joinin' us this afternoon?" Nellie asked.

You paused for a moment, taking in all the information Nellie had just shared. The idea of spending the afternoon at the house of the Elvis Presley with others seemed unreal to you.

"Hmm, I'll go, only 'cause I don't believe ya."

Nellie burst into laughter, clearly amused by your skepticism.

"Well, I can't blame ya for not believin' me," she said, wiping away tears of laughter.

"But... what should I tell my momma? I doubt she'd let me get mixed with older folk," you mumbled under your breath.

Nellie's laughter subsided as she pondered your dilemma.

"Well, how about we come up with a lil' white lie?" she suggested mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her proposal.

"We could tell your momma that we're volunteerin' at a local charity event, they have many up durin' summer."

Nellie continued.

"That way, she won't suspect a thing, and we'll have ah perfect alibi."

The idea seemed risky, but you wanted to know whether Nellie was being truthful about this get-together. You also felt like getting out. You couldn't help but smile at Nellie's mischievous suggestion. It was tempting to go along with her idea and create an elaborate story for your mother. As you thought about it, the idea grew on you, and you found yourself agreeing with Nellie. After all, a little adventure and spontaneity never hurt anyone, and it would make for a fun time. Nellie got up from her seat and grabbed your hand.

"Come on, let's give your momma a call and tell 'er you won't be home 'til supper!"

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face as you both ran inside her home and gave your mother a call about where you'd be this whole afternoon. 

Later, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her house, its tinted windows shielding the occupants from prying eyes. Nervousness swirled in your stomach as you watched the bodyguard step out and open the door for you. "Oh, she was bein' serious," you thought in your head. Nellie, standing beside you, looked excited, her eyes darting from the car to you and back again. You both climbed into the car, the leather seats were cool against your skin.

As the door closed behind you, the engine purred to life with a low rumble that vibrated through the car. You couldn't help but smile nervously as the car began to move, its wheels rolling smoothly over the pavement. It was a quiet drive, Nellie had still been doing her makeup as she looked at herself in a small, compact mirror while you fixed the simple white bow you'd pinned on the side of your hair you wore down. You admired Nellie's expertise in applying makeup on the go, managing to achieve a flawless look despite the bumpy ride. Meanwhile, you caught glimpses of the passing scenery through the window—the vibrant colors of flowers and tall trees blending together in a pretty landscape. The gentle breeze brushed against your face as the car continued to glide along the quiet road, creating a peaceful atmosphere. 

As you approached a magnificent mansion, your eyes widened in awe. It stood tall with its beautiful detailing, exuding an air of elegance. The sprawling gardens surrounding the home were a sight to behold, with neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant blooms that added a touch of vibrancy to the serene surroundings. The soft rays of sunlight peeked through the lush bushes, casting a warm glow on the lion statues placed in front of the home's entrance. Everything about this place seemed to transport you to a world of beauty and calmness. The car halted in front of the mansion, and the kind man who drove you both here stepped out, politely opening your car door for both you and Nellie to step out.

As you climbed out of the car, you couldn't help but analyze the mansion before you. Its grand architecture, adorned with intricate details and towering pillars, exuded a sense of timeless elegance. You and Nellie followed the kind man up the sweeping staircase to the entrance. The man kindly opened the door for you both. You could hear some light music playing and some people chattering inside already. You both stepped inside, and Nellie was quickly met with her date, who happened to leave his convo once he saw her enter. He greeted her with a warm smile, and they immediately began conversing.

"Oh right, this is my great friend, y/n." Nellie spoke as she gestured at you with both of her hands.

 You returned the gesture with a polite smile, feeling nervous as you introduced yourself to Nellie's date. He extended his hand and shook yours, introducing himself as Joe. He went on to say to make yourself at home and to ask any of the guys if you needed anything.

Next thing you knew, Nellie had been led away from you by Joe, leaving you standing there feeling slightly awkward. You saw Nellie eye you, and she mouthed, "It'll only be ah minute." And she gave you an encourging smile. You watched as Nellie and Joe disappeared into another room, leaving you momentarily alone in the grand foyer. 

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you glanced around, marveling at the lavishness of the surroundings. The delicate chandelier twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow on the framed photographs that hung on the walls, which happened to be photos of the person himself, Elvis, pictures of when he was younger, and some of his family. It took some time for you to understand that this was indeed Elvis' home, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was here too. While you wouldn't call yourself a devoted fan, you did have a general idea of who the man was and enjoyed his music. You'd seen some articles about him in the press lately, but you wouldn't pay much mind, they seemed to only have poor words to convey regarding him.

You looked around, seeing a few guys scattered in each room, some with women, others not. Everyone seemed to have life experience, so you felt a little out of place as you waltzed in there, as if appearing to be a young girl who had lost her way. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious in your clothes, which shouted your age, while everyone else was dressed rather effortlessly, somehow they made it look lavish and simple.

You went looking for a restroom, wanting to see how you appeared. The mansion's splendor, with its lofty ceilings and lavish furnishings, was evident as you made your way through the halls. Your search for the restroom's location finally paid off when you asked a few guys for help. But for your lack of luck, it was occupied. You looked around to ask someone if there was another one available. You plucked up the guts to approach a man who was standing by himself and asked gently while tapping him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, s-sir, do ya know if there is another restroom nearby?"

The man turned around, revealing a smile on his face. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before he let out a chuckle.

"Oh my, you must be new here," he said with a hint of confidence in his voice.

"Let me show you the way," he offered, motioning for you to follow him.

You felt a touch of nerves as you trailed behind him through a few other people. As you both weaved through them, you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by "new here." Was it that obvious that you were unfamiliar with this place? Finally, he led you to a hidden corner of the mansion where a door stood, almost blending seamlessly with the surrounding walls. But when he went to turn the knob, it was locked tight.

He frowned, his brows furrowing in disappointment.

"I apologize," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

"It seems it's busy as well."

You subconsciously frowned and looked to the side. However, the man's help was unwavering.

"Don't worry," he assured, his eyes glinting with sudden determination.

"Tell ya what kid, you can go ahead and use the one upstairs." He spoke as he walked towards the staircase, and you followed right behind.

"Really? Are you sure?" you asked, optimism in your voice.

The man nodded, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Absolutely, but only 'cause you seem genuine," he replied, gesturing towards the staircase.

You couldn't help but ponder what he meant by that. You hesitated, but you turned towards him, softly asking.

"Sir, w'dya mean by that?"

The man paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours, before finally answering.

"I've seen many people come through here with different intentions," he began.

"Some just wanna snoop around and get their hands on things. But you, my gut's tellin' me, ya don't mean any harm."

He chuckled lightly.

"Just head on up. It's the first door on the right."

You smiled gratefully, but before you could speak, he interrupted.

"Oh, and if anyone happens to ask who let ya up there, tell 'em Charlie."

You thanked him and made your way up the stairs.

As you reached the top, you noticed the worn-out carpet and the faint smell of what seemed to be cigarette smoke. The hallway was dimly lit, but you followed Charlie's instructions and turned right, finding the restroom door just as he had described. You entered, closing and locking the door behind you as you turned on the lights. Looking in the mirror, you eyed yourself and your outfit. You definitely felt out of place with these people—your red shorts that ended just below your cheeks, your crochet halter crop top, and topping it off with some matching flat red Mary Janes along with a bow in your hair. You liked this look, but you weren't sure if it was fit for the group of these people, it wasn't the style but the way you wore it. 

Stepping out of the restroom, feeling a little more relaxed and calm. You decided it was fine to just enjoy yourself, just like Nellie wanted. You couldn't help but wonder if she was looking for you. As you made your way through the hall, an open black cushioned door caught your eye. Looking closer, just enough to gaze inside, you saw it was almost pitch black in broad daylight. It seemed almost like a bat cave, but only had one dim light enough to see the outlines of furniture.

You looked around at your surroundings to see if anyone was around—no one.

You inched closer to the room, realizing it was a bedroom, then you noticed a faint scent of tobacco wafting from within. Curiosity got the best of you, and you cautiously stepped inside, feeling a shiver run down your spine. The air was cool and still, almost as if time had stood still in this mysterious haven.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw elegant curtains draping softly and a plush bed adorned with intricately embroidered pillows. You walked over to a dresser, and atop it, you noticed a few pill bottles scattered here and there, along with a few books stacked near by, with the one on top being a bible.

Looking around, you saw some seeps of smoke coming from the center of the nightstand near the bed and walked towards it. You came across an ash tray with a cigar still smoldering in it, indicating that someone had recently been smoking. Your eyes widen at the thought that someone had just been here, and this was most likely their bedroom. As much as you should have been out the door by now, you couldn't help but be intrigued by a pair of golden glasses lying near the ash tray. You picked them up and examined the purplish tint of the lenses and the EP engraved on the bridge. Curiosity got the better of you as you put them on, finding them surprisingly comfortable but huge on you. While you had them on, you kept trying to figure out what EP might stand for.

Little did you know the owner of those glasses was actually leaning against the doorway, eyeing you up from behind. He suppressed a chuckle watching you try on his glasses—not wanting to interfere in your little adventure.

Oblivious, you continued thinking and kept mumbling to yourself, "Ep, Ep, Ep, what can it stand for?"  

You quickly turned around at the sound of a man clearing his throat, startled to find someone standing by the door. 

"Now what's a young gal like you, doin' snoopin' in uh man's room?"

The man's voice was deep and gruff, sending a shiver down your spine. You stumbled over your words, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for your presence.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, nervously fidgeting with the glasses in your hands that you'd swiftly taken off.

"I ain't mean to, to…"

You couldn't make up his face in this dark room, but you could see his sharp face structure and tall, hefty subrotund frame in what seemed to be a tracksuit. Placing the glasses back on the nightstand, you quietly tried to make your way out, but he flicked on the other dimly lit lamp, revealing a better look at his face. You knew this face but couldn't place your finger on where you had seen it before.

As the light illuminated his features, a sense of familiarity washed over you. His piercing blue eyes and thick, wiry sideburns, which extended down to his soft jawline, were unmistakable. The face of the man you had seen plastered all over magazines and newspapers every now and then—the man you had grown up listening to when you'd be on car rides with your daddy—oh,  those long car rides. It was really Elvis Presley, he had a different look to him then, he looked much more ragged and mature now. His skin still flawless, but a few lines etched here and there. But despite the signs of age, there was still a magnetism about him that could draw anyone in.

It was as if time had not diminished his aura but rather added to it, making him even more captivating. You stared up at him in awe, unable to believe that such a man was standing right in front of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"So, you's gon give me an explanation or..."

Elvis said it with a slight grin, his Southern accent instantly recognizable.

"Cat got cha tongue, honey?" He chuckled weakly, his voice low and velvety, as he studied you a bit.

You managed to muster a nervous titter and finally find your voice.

"I… I really didn't m-mean, ta- Mister you are Elv-"

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, a faint smile widening on his face.

"Well, I'll be dammed, an old man still hip wit' the youngins," he replied with a playful wink.

His charm was undeniable, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You went on to blabber about how, as a little girl, you'd listen to his music any time you'd be around your daddy. He didn't mind your sudden yapping.

He couldn't help but smile a little more, perhaps proud. He scoots down a little closer to meet your height, the scent of him filling the air around you, and puts his arm around you gently. You are almost dwarfed next to him and can't stop thinking about how nice he smells to you, his arm seems to swallow you whole, and it makes you feel small. You observe how he seems to grow in size as he gets nearer to you.

"Well, ain’t that just adorable."

He peers at you, and then, just to give you a little tease, he backs up from the side hug he'd just given you.

"Seems ta me, you's still uh little girl," he chuckles lightly, tousling your hair playfully.

Here you were being teased by Elvis, knowing you'd doubted Nellie's words about him actually being her Joe's boss. You giggled nervously and shook your head.

"No, I h-happen to be eighteen now, mister."

Elvis raises an eyebrow and smirks, his blue eyes lit mischievously.

"Well, ain't cha all grown up then?" he says, his voice coated with amusement.

"But tell me, darlin', what's your name?"

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling disbelief in his presence.

"Well... im y/n." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he whispers, "Y/N, huh? It's ah purty name hon'."

For some reason, you can't help but blush when he says your name.

"Oh, thank's," you replied softly, and a shy, sweet smile spread across your face.

Elvis backs away with a grin and walks over to lounge on the settee that stood in front of the end of his bed. You timidly watched as he sat himself comfortably on the burgundy cushions, stretched his lengthy legs wide, and propped one foot up on the short wooden coffee table in front of him. The dim lighting in the room cast a soft glow on his features, making him look even more mesmerizing. Something about it made you feel a little excited, even though you had no idea what would come next. Elvis, noticing your fretting, reached out a hand towards you. He scanned your outfit up a bit, his eyes stuck on your shorts for a little too long.

"Come sit with me, darlin'."

His baritone voice seemed inviting. His eyes sparkled with charm even though they had a glimpe of somnolence, only luring you towards him. You took his ample hand without hesitation, and as a rush of warmth engulfed you, you overlooked the slight tug he gave you.

But before you could settle on the settee, he interjected, "Hold on uh sec, hon'. Cha be uh sweatheart and fetch me that cigar that's lyin' in the ashtray."

Obediently, you followed his words with a nod and trotted over to the nightstand by the bed to retrieve the already-lit cigar you had seen. He grinned pleasedly and showed off a dimple on his chubby cheek as he saw how quickly you complied. While you reached for it, you couldn't help but notice the other array of trinkets scattered on the nightstand that you hadn't paid attention to before. A worn-out leather wallet, a few costly rings, and a faded photograph caught your eye, each holding a story of its own.

Your back still to him, he was secretly eyeing you up and saw the way your red shorts hugged your small yet bubble bottom. Unbeknownst to you, his gaze lingered for a moment longer, his thoughts momentarily drifting away from the conversation at hand. However, as you turned around, he averted his gaze quickly. You walked over to him and sat on the plush seat next to him. Handing him his cigar, his focus swiftly returned, his eyes meeting yours. You notice the side of his mouth twitch up in a smile. He lets a soft chuckle bubble up inside of him. But his eyes stay focused on yours.

You notice a couple of small crow's feet around his eyes, which you found appealing for some reason. He was much older than the Elvis your daddy had you listening to, but you couldn't deny he was still a looker.

He sat back more, getting comfortable, and took a long, leisurely puff of his cigar. The smoke curled around his face, and he spoke in a deep, hoarse voice.

"Well," he said, his tone filled with intrigue, "how'd yuh end up, up here?"

His question hung in the air for a moment as he awaited your answer.

You shifted in the seat, pondering for a moment, "I was just lookin' for a restroom, but... the ones downstairs were all bein' used."

You paused for a moment, glancing at him, seeing that he was listening so intently to your every word.

"And well, a nice man, goes by the name uh Charlie, told me it'd be fine if I used the one up here."

He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering in comprehension as you finished your explanation, making sure to include all the specifics on how you were intrigued by the cushion door and how you managed to arrive at his home.  

His gaze shifted downward, and a slight grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"It's kinda amusin'," he remarked, his tone laced with humor.

"You look like a bitty girl sittin' here tryna explain yuhself."

You couldn't help but let out another titter at his comment, the tension that had been building up inside you dissipating instantly.

"Well, I am not a 'bitty girl', I swear to you, am not," you retorted playfully.

"Ah."

He leaned forward on the sofa, his sunken eyes still fixed on you.

"I don't think yud go around lyin' to your momma about your whereabouts if you's weren't a 'bitty girl'."

You laughed softly, the innocence in your laughter contrasting with his playful teasing.

"W-Well I guess you got me there," you responded with a twinkle in your eyes.

He grinned at your response, clearly amused by your girlish demeanor. As you continued to engage in playful banter with him, you couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on your attire.

Elvis was thinking of just being cooped up in his grand bedroom for the rest of the evening, but here appeared a lil' thing in tiny cherry red shorts wrapped up in a delicate white bow just for him. He might as well let her stay here to keep him company.

His gaze seemed both curious and intrigued, as if he were trying to decipher the innocence in your appearance. Unconsciously, you found yourself fidgeting with the lace trim on your pretty bow you'd worn in your hair. You wondered what thoughts were crossing his mind.

His gaze was that of a man who was hankering for something.

As you fidgeted with the lace trim on your white bow, Elvis noticed your slight discomfort and smiled warmly.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Here, how 'bout cha get more comfortable?"

Gazing up at him with doe-like eyes and parted lips, you tilted your head slightly and softly replied.

"Oh, but I am comfortable."

Damn, he thought.

He leaned closer to you on the couch, and the size difference between you and him became more apparent. He loomed over you, making you feel little. You couldn't help but be captivated by his presence. The thoughts running through his mind remained a mystery to you, but his gaze spoke volumes.

You were unfamiliar with the emotions that his presence was starting to stir within you. Your heart raced as he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, sending waves down your spine.

His touch was both heavy and comforting, leaving you craving something as you felt goosebumps from the coolness of the few rings his fingers had adorned.

In that moment, you were experiencing a funny feeling in your belly that you had never felt before. You tried to dismiss the strange sensations that overwhelmed you, convincing yourself it was just a passing infatuation of some sort. But as he guided your legs to rest on his lap swiftly, you couldn't deny the growing intensity of those feelings, and a dusty pink spread across your face. His large hand carefully grazed your small ankle, sending shivers up your spine. You couldn't help but notice how the contrast of his stout upper thighs under your delicate calves made you feel funny somewhere.

Elvis watched your gullible response and was enthralled with your innocence. To him, you seemed like a delicate flower, untouched by the harsh realities of the world. He saw your blushing face and recognized the purity in your eyes, making him feel a sudden sense of responsibility over you. As he gently touched your ankle, he noticed how your body reacted as you stiffened a bit, indicating that you were discovering new emotions and even desires for the first time. Elvis understood that he needed to tread carefully with your innocence, it seemed sorta sick but he liked the idea of corrupting that purity you were holding on to, he wanted to be your first taste of that forbidden fruit. He eyed the bareness of your legs in those little red shorts and cleared his throat before taking a puff from his cigar.

As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he watched you intently, savoring the anticipation of what was to come next as you adjusted the hem of your shorts due to them riding up a bit. The way you blithely tugged at the fabric, unaware of the effect it had on him, made it increasingly difficult. The forbidden fruit was within reach, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would succumb to its allure or if you even knew how.

"This fine, baby? Just wan' ya ta feel more comfy."

He said, his gaze never leaving your slender calves as he discreetly adjusted them on his lap. You smiled, completely oblivious to the thoughts passing through his mind.

"Mm, y-yeah. I'm all comfy," you replied softly with a light laugh, unaware of the effect your innocent gestures had on him.

You could still feel those funny feelings swirling within at his touches or his certain stares, but you did your best to brush them off due to the overwhelm it brought you.

As the minutes progressed and you both talked, you noticed an intensifying heat in his gaze and an extra tension in the air, but what could it mean? Each time he brushed against your ankle that lied on his lap or accidentally grazed your thigh, your heart would skip a beat.

"Tell me, what song of mine was yur favorite growin' up?" he whispered softly.

You tittered as you looked into his eyes and said, "Awh, I can't say. It's hard ta choose."

A small smile played on his lips as he leaned closer, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your knee. As he continued to trace patterns on your knee, his touch became incredibly ticklish, causing you to squirm on the sette and your knee to flinch up. He chuckled, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Looks like ah found myself a ticklish bitty girl."

His southern drawl made your heart flutter even more as you tried to suppress your giggles.

"Now darlin', I ain't gon stop ticklin' ya 'til you tell me that song."

His mischievous grin only added to the playful atmosphere as you squirmed and laughed, desperately trying to hold back laughter. The room was filled with a chorus of lively laughter as your attempts to resist his tickling proved futile. Despite your best efforts, you finally gave in, surrendering to the waves of ticklish sensations coursing through you. Between gasps for air and fits of giggles, you managed to blurt out the name of the song he had been teasing you about. Relief washed over you as his tickling finally ceased, but a mischievous glint in his eyes hinted that this playful banter was far from over.

As you regained your composure, you couldn't help but notice his hands fumbling with the buckle of your Mary Janes. A tingle ran down your neck as he slowly loosened the strap, his touch sending a fuzzy sensation through your body. As he removed your red flats, his fingers grazed against your painted nails, eliciting a delightful buzz that made you squirm.

Pink nail polish adorned your toenails, adding an even more feminine look to your dainty feet.

With an impish smirk, he held up one of your feet triumphantly, teasingly declaring, "Look at these yittle beauties!"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement at his playful antics.

"Awh, ya sooties," he chuckled, his voice laced with affection.

"They are so soft an' ittle."

His eyes twinkled in delight as he admired your petite size, fueling his hidden fascination. You blushed at the pet name he had given your feet and giggled.

"Okay, 'kay, that's enough," you say humorously, trying to pull your feet away from his lap.

But he held onto them firmly, refusing to let go.

"No, no, I can't let go uh these adorable yittle's," he protested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You squirmed and laughed—a balance of ticklishness and delight. His playful interest in your feet was endearing, even if it was slightly embarrassing. As you leaned back on the couch, feeling those funny sensations come back stronger, he playfully tried to nibble on your toes. Your face flushes, both surprised and amused by his frolics.

"H-Hey! Watch it!" you exclaimed with a mock stern expression, but giggled still as you placed a hand on his forearm to stop him.

He grinned slyly, his eyes dazzling with devilry.

"Oh, come on, darlin', don't ya be ah spoilsport," he teased, his voice filled with playful insistence.

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence, feeling a warmth spreading through your body. His touch was riveting, sending warmth into your stomach and making your heart race. He notices how you've nearly ended up lying on the couch from his rough tugging. Elvis eases his actions and gently rests your feet back on his lap. Giggling lightly still, you carefully sit up a little and fix your shorts that had ridden up a little too far for comfort.

As you sit up and adjust your shorts, you can't help but marvel at how revamped he looked now. Regardless of the changes, there was still a boyish look on his face that hasn't faded over the years. His hair, tousled and slightly longer than ever before, fell effortlessly across his forehead, giving him an air of casual confidence. You can't help but feel a pang of reminiscence as you remember the countless times you'd come home from school and listen to his records or go on drives with your daddy. You shook your head, the thoughts disappearing as you felt those fuzzy, unfamiliar feelings bubbling in you when you felt him rub your ankles and feet that continued to rest on his lap.

Despite your efforts, you couldn't quite get your shorts to stop riding up. Elvis' gaze traveled down to your feet, lying on his lap. But then he noticed you struggling to keep your shorts in place. An uncontrollable smile tugged at the corners of his lips, charmed by the adorable display of vulnerability.

"Need help, hon'?" he asked, his voice a bit gruff but sweet in a way.

You couldn't understand why, but his words brought a flutter to your chest and a blush to your cheeks once again.

"Uh," you trailed off.

He grinned a bit and removed your calves off his lap to lean towards you, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you to your feet, so you stood in front of where he sat.

"Lemme see, Elvis needa fix these tiny things ya have on."

Blushing even more at the way he spoke with you, you nodded and looked down at your shorts, which were indeed a bit askew. He adjusted the waistband and smoothed out the fabric. You peeked at him and were lost in thought as you stared into his face, but you shivered when you felt his rough, callused fingers brush against your delicate skin as he tugged on the hem of your shorts to keep them from being scrunched up. While he adjusted your shorts, you couldn't suppress the fluttering sensation in your stomach. It was a strange yet tingling feeling, unfamiliar yet enticing. He looked up at you. Noticing your breathing was off, he could tell you hadn’t been properly introduced to whatever you must be feeling. As you stood there, mesmerized by his touch, you caught a glimpse of a subtle smirk playing on his lips. 

He finishes fixing your shorts and lets his large hands rest on your hips, his fingers lightly grazing the skin that was exposed above your waistband.

You give a sweet but timid smile, "Thank ya."

The rosiness in your cheeks became more prominent when you felt a slight tug on your hips as he pulled you more forward, so his knee was in the space between your legs. Your breath hitched, and your attention was momentarily drawn to the cigar still held firmly between his teeth, adding an extra layer of lure to his already magnetic presence. His gaze met yours, filled with impishness.

"What's gotcha all rosy, hon'?" he asks with a cunning smile.

You look away as you bring a hand to your cheek and feel the heat radiating off.

"Oh, I dunno, really," you respond with a light, nervous laugh.

He snickers and takes one hand off your hip to grab a hold of his cigar and place it in the ashtray that is laid on the coffee table behind you. 

His other hand, still resting on your hip, gives you a light squeeze, you can't shake the warm feeling in your tummy his action brings you. He leans back on the couch and pulls your hips closer to him, so his whole leg is between your legs as you stand there. Elvis can't help but beam at how weak and pliable he's making you. His hands go loose as he trails them up around your waist, swiftly pulling you down to him so you're straddling his thigh, your feet dangling just above the ground on either side. He rubs both sides of your waist up and down with his large hands, which causes your stomach to fludder. He admired your doe eyes from this angle, and you let out a little purr as you stared up at him.

The look he sees on your face is one of oblivion. He brings one hand up to your shoulder, gently massaging it as it slowly trails up to the side of your neck.

"Yuh look even more itty bitty, sittin' there, lookin' up at me like that."

He whispers. You suppress a giggle and shoot him a shy grin, his tired eyes lighting up with enjoyment.

"C'mere baby, c'mere," he mumbles as he moves your face closer up to his and then holds the back of your neck. 

His lips meet yours in a soft yet potent kiss, the smell of him completely flooding your senses and making you feel like you are being eaten whole. As elvis’ mouth pressed into yours more, you began convincing yourself that your lips were being mushed against a marshmallow.

Having his fill, he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

Your eyes held a frazzled and vulnerable look, and your lips a bit puffy from his rather harsh assault. You bring your small hand to stroke your lips as you feel the tingles that were left there from his kiss.

He keeps his poker face even though he’s feeling things driven by your pure reaction.

"'Ats the matter, baby? Yur first kiss?"

He chuckles, trying to hide his satisfaction.

Your cheeks pinken, and you nod solemnly, "I-It was."

There could be a slight embarrassment heard in your tone. He laughs even louder playfully and kisses the top of your head, then gently strokes some of your hair until he gets a hold of the end. You feel his knuckles brush against your neck, and it tickles. You giggle a little. 

Despite your nerves, he starts tugging at your hair a little bit—not in a hurtful way, but more like a playful way.

"Don’t say it like it’s uh bad thing, honey. Yur's a baby, uh course it’s your first kiss, hmm."

"Jus as pure as the driven snow, ain't cha."

He chuckles and leans in closer to you.

"Let's try it again bitty."

He announced with a weak smile as he caressed your cheek, which was flaming.

You gave him a subtle nod, and you couldn't help but beam at all the feelings this was bringing you and the cute little name he gave you. It reminded you of the one you had given one of your childhood stuffed animal's you had back in your bedroom.

You felt your heart race with thrill as he leaned in closer to you, his rough hands now moving to your hips. Your lips meet again, and this time, your clumsy way of kissing back intrigues him even more. He takes the lead, his lips pressing against yours with a hint of hunger. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he grips your hips firmer, pulling you closer so your clad cunt is pressed right against his thigh. Your heart pounds in your chest, and a sense of confusion and fever swirls within you.

As the kiss deepens, your inexperience becomes even more evident when he tries to pry his tongue into your mouth, but instead of being put off, he is drawn in by your amateurish way of not knowing what he meant.

"C'mon, baby, open yuh pretty mouth. Wanna give hers uh big girl kiss," he whispers against your pouty lips as he tries to deepen the kiss.

You flush, complying, you part your lips tentatively, and his tongue slides right into your mouth. You try your best to follow his advances, moving your tongue ever so lightly against his. It feels foreign and unfamiliar, but you can hear his pleasure as he sighs into the kiss. His grip on your hips tighten even more as he deepens the kiss, exploring every corner of your mouth with a sense of fervor. That funny, warm, and strange feeling in your belly begins to get stronger. Your heart quickens as you feel him push your hips down, causing your lower half to rub against his thigh.

The feeling overwhelms you, causing you to gasp against his lips. You bring your hand up to press against his puffy chest, searching for some stability and support. While his track jacket's zipper is unzipped just far enough to expose his chest hair, you can feel it tickling your fingers. Startled yet again when he forces your cunt to press firmer against him once more, you instinctively pull away from the kiss, temporarily breaking the intense connection between you. Confused and taken aback, you look into his drowsy eyes, now an even darker tone of saphire, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

"E-Elvis," you gasp out.

Your expression appears to be questioning the unusual feeling you felt within your body.

"Shh, shh... s-s’all right baby," he whispers with that low baritone voice of his as he brings up a hand to rub your arm.

"It'll be good, hmm. Make ya feel good."

He continues to speak in a soothing tone.

Elvis brings his hands back to take hold of your hips and gently guides you to rub your heat against his thigh, causing a surge of unfamiliar pleasure to course through your body. You felt a strange wetness between your legs from what you thought were his "playful" actions. His hands trail down to your shorts, so he's gripping your rear with both hands now. His fingers tighten their grip, subtly urging you to press against his thigh harder.

Feeling the increased pressure, you shuddered and let out in a soft, airy tone, "I-It feels funny."

Your barely audible voice, combined with your jittery body, only heightened his amusement.

"It's uh'k bitty, enjoy it, jus rub that lil' thing ya got on my leg," he murmurs near your ear as he helped guide your hip more rigidly on his thigh, causing your leg to brush against his groin now.

As the sensations intensified, you noticed a large amount of heat growing between your legs. Your breathing quickens as you begin to let out low whimpers, and your body instinctively moves closer to his, seeking more contact. You can feel your heart racing as something starts to build in your lower abdomen.

Elvis amused himself at your reaction, his dark eyes gleaming with greed and satisfaction. The sensation of his thigh pressing and rubbing against your most sensitive spot became practically unbearable when he started bouncing his leg up and down, causing waves of sudden relief to ripple through your entire being.

Your face contorted as a sweet, high-pitched moan escaped your mouth. The sound of you making him throb.

You felt the unexpected surge of a new foreign nirvana engulf you but swiftly pass and your hand jerked restlessly in the air, reaching out to cling your tiny digets onto his pudgy pec in a desperate attempt to maintain stability. As you did so, you heard a muffled noise exit his mouth.

Your delicate quivering thighs automatically try to clamp around his thigh at the sensitivity your body was feeling. He continued to hold your hips down in order to keep you from tumbling over.

"Oh, ya flimsy thang.”

“Done already."

Though he can't help but grin, he says it with raised brows.

"l-"

You whisper beneath your breath.

Your short response only makes him grin more, like you don’t know what you’ve done. 

"Look bitty,"  he motions towards your crotch, and you lean to look down at yourself.

You flush even more at the wet patch on the front of your shorts and on his track pants. You recoil as he lightly brushes the front of your covered cunt upward with the pad of his thumb.

"Means you was feelin' good," he whispers in a low, sultry voice.

The large, protruding lump poised on his groin caught your attention, and you couldn't help but stare. Upon seeing where you were gazing, he snickers.

"Looks like yuh got me goin' bitty."

Your look is still dazed from all you've just gotten through when you meet his heavy stare.

He snatches your face and plants a selfish needful kiss on your lips. It felt like your head was in the clouds.

He murmured, "Ya sounded so pretty," and withdrew.

"Next time, will be better. Lil' thing like ya self needs ta get used to those big feelin's."

He twisted a strand of your hair as he said quietly.

Next time, you thought to yourself.

You continued to sit on his thigh, feeling glorious, swollen, and soft. You both sat there in silence for awhile, you occasionally saw him grope the lump, but you didn't question it. He began caressing your cheek, causing you to look up at him with bright doe eyes.

Meeting those knackered eyes of his—for some reason you wanted to take away what ever had him carrying such a gaze.

Elvis grabbed you and set you fully on his lap, that bulging thing in his track pants now poking at your inner thigh.

"Wanna cuddle hers a bit."

He mumbled as he looked down at you.

The way he spoke to you with that ragged look he bore made you want to give him anything, even if you didn't understand the new feeling's he'd introduced to you. His words and actions conveyed a vulnerability that was both foreign and captivating to you. You couldn’t understand it.

You found yourself torn between wanting to nurture him and wanting to cushion yourself from the overpowering emotions that he brought out of you. Looking into his pretty worn blues, you reached out a weak hand and gently brushed his hair from his face, mutely vowing to be there with him, whatever it may entail. He held you down firmly against him and felt the warmth from the swell of his belly pressing against you—you also felt a warmth radiating off him from down under. His body starting to move in a certain rhythm beneath you, the girthy lump rubbing upward on your thigh, which you were heedless of, you just wanted to hold this man and for him to hold you. Such a sweet clean-handed girl you were.

In that moment, neither Nellie nor your momma crossed your mind for the rest of the evening from there, and on Elvis would be the only thing consuming your all. 

- This is the only account I have and the only platform I’ll be uploading my stories on, just informing in case my stories get stolen and re-uploaded somewhere else.

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @myradiaz @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here. ♡

[mahg-stuff]

hii I just wanted to say that I really loved “his doll” and I was wondering if you take requests for fics/smut? would you ever write something where big daddy e has like a size kink and the f reader is super short and he just loves manhandling her and how “yittle” her “sooties” are 🫶?

Are you in my mind!!? But I am glad to hear you loved his doll. And yes I do take requests for fics/smut but it may take me awhile to get to them. And about your question yes! I actually am currently writing three fics rn and one of them does have big daddy e being amused by the f readers “yittle sooties” 😌 and just for you I’ll involve his size kink/manhandling, his manhandling may be more on the gentle side due to the f reader’s inexperience in this one 😉.

It’ll for sure be the fic I post next. So, stay tuned for that my lovely!! ♡

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Masterlist

[mahg-stuff]

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hello Lovely’s! I’m glad to see that my first story went well!! I want to inform y’all that I’ll be making a taglist for my future writings. Which I’m currently working on a few btw… Also, want you all to know that these stories may contain dark/disturbing content for certain readers. I feel most of my stories will have an age gap between Elvis & the (fem!)reader and smut will be involved in them as well. I'd also suggest an 18+ age limit. I'll make one-shots and drabble's but i'm not sure about series yet, I'm trying to get there! :')

So if you enjoyed His Doll, just like or comment down below and you’ll be added to the new taglist. ♡

͏⸺

Master List

( Asks are open btw, for questions/requests/suggestions/anything really. )

[mahg-stuff]