#70s!elvis

[headfullofpresley]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,7K

Summary: They say opposites attract and you and Elvis are living proof of that. Your music tastes are as far apart as can be, but since you are always front row at all his shows to be the supportive girlfriend, he finally joins you for a night out in your world. Time to get funky.

Warnings: 70s!elvis, elvis being a disco hater, strong language, alcohol consumption, inaccurate timelines when it comes to songs etc, reader and elvis fighting people in the club 👀, mention of the colonel, the media being a bunch of asses, smut; dirty talk, handjob (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving & a lil of m. receiving if you squint), anilingus (f. receiving if you squint), kissing after oral, lil bit of choking and hair pulling, facial, swallowing, unprotected sex.

A/N: the girly in the pic is white and blonde but that has nothing to do with the fic- as readers' appearance other than her outfit isn't described :). anyways, this is just one of my delusional elvis fantasies turned into a fic. enjoy, babies! 🕺🏻

masterlist | suggested playlist

You had been steadily dating Elvis Presley since 1968. The two of you met in Los Angeles at a dinner event thrown by some big name music producer and while Elvis usually didn’t like attending these things, he was glad he did four sweltering summers ago in ’68.

The two of you hit it off right away, talking about everything and nothing. As cheesy as it sounds, it was a match made in heaven.

You shared a lot of similarities with the man- sometimes you joked he was basically the male version of you and he always wholeheartedly agreed. But there was one thing the both of you simply could not agree on.

And that was music.

Disco was a part of your soul; it ran through your veins like blood. It was a way of life. Disco was you.

To Elvis, disco was something you maybe danced to a little when having too many drinks- it made him want to scratch his eyeballs out more often than he’d admit whenever you played it throughout the house or hotel rooms for most of the day, but he loved you and therefor, he was just going to have to deal with it.

You felt the same about most of his music. You didn’t exactly hate his taste nor the music he made himself, but it just.. missed something. He had a few songs here and there that you could move to, but you needed more than that- you needed beats to let loose to. Still, you were always the supporting girlfriend and there had never been a show you hadn’t been at the front row for.

Sure, discussions about music between the two of you was not a foreign concept but it usually happened whenever you had one too many of those colorful cocktails during his shows or a night out and he was high on adrenaline after performing, but it never turned nasty or whatsoever. Despite the differences, you could still acknowledge that your man was an amazing singer.

You nor Elvis were planning to let get something this silly come in between your relationship or let this become a serious problem and although you knew you could never persuade him to like the same music you did, it didn’t mean you’d give up trying.

 

Elvis didn’t mind to have you dance around the hotel suite at the International with your records playing in the background or you going out on the town with the girls after his dinner show, but he drew the line of joining you to one of those… discotheque’s.

Or so, he thought.

You and the Memphis Mafia’s ladies managed to persuade the rest of the guys to join you on one of Elvis’ nights off to a club and naturally, he wasn’t going to stay behind all alone. To be honest, he could use the rest but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d come back anyways.

Elvis simply wasn’t one for nightclubs or drowning himself in alcohol to have a good time, but something told him he was going to need a few drinks if he wanted to survive the night.

“Oh, come on, EP! You gotta let loose, get down and boogie, man!” Joe grinned teasingly at him as he sat at the dining table in the hotel suite, nursing a drink. The smaller Mafia member was dressed in a pair of baby blue well-fitted trousers and an equally as blue and flower printed shirt that had more buttons left open than necessary. According to Joe himself, the best part of the outfit were the boots with heels Joan put him in- making him look taller and a little slimmer.

“Zip it, Esposito- hippie lookin’ fool,” Elvis threw at his friend in good humor, putting on a gold belt he wore on stage a few times before as well.

You were lucky your boyfriend had a somewhat more flashy sense of fashion. He always stood out in a crowd but maybe that could also be because he was Elvis Presley- nonetheless, he always dressed amazingly.

You put your thumbs at him as he spread out his arms, waiting for your approval. He wore a pair of well fitted white trousers and a pink colored printed shirt on top of it, leaving the first few buttons open to show off the tan he was still sporting from your recent Hawaiian vacation, his white blazer matching with his pants. On his feet he wore heeled boots as well, though smaller ones than Joe did, as he didn’t exactly need the extra height.

“Do I pass your test, ma’am?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow and a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, making you nod your head and stand on your toes to peck his lips.

“Definitely- looking like a true disco king,” you teased, twirling around in front of him before placing your hands on your hips. “How about me?”

His grin grew wider as if his body was on automatic pilot as his eyes drank you in completely, liking very much what he saw. You always dressed well- whether it were dresses, skirts or pants like tonight, it always made him want to rip the pieces of fabric right off your body.

The red pants you opted for tonight hugged your curves perfectly, having him resist the urge to sink his teeth in your thighs. The silver shimmering halter top that only held itself together by a string around your neck and your ribcage didn’t leave much to one’s imagination as it dipped into a loose v-neck in the front and left your back completely bare. The equally as silver heels you wore on your feet and your colorful make-up you usually wore on nights out really pulled it all together.

And all he could think about was seeing you fall apart underneath him in the sheets, hair a mess and make-up smudged.

“You,” he smirked, placing his hands on your hips to pull you up against his chest, keeping your there as his hands slipped down to your ass to shamelessly squeeze the flesh through your pants. “look fuckin’ perfect,”

You hummed playfully, kissing him before he could you, neither of you really caring about the others in the room. If it wasn’t for Joe speaking up, you could’ve eaten your boyfriend up right there and then.

“Get a room,” Joe shouted, getting up from his seat with a laugh as everyone seemed ready to leave. Elvis pulled away from the kiss and looked at his friend, giving your ass another extra squeeze for show.

“You’re standin' in it,”

Joe just laughed, not knowing what else to say to that before turning to Joan. You giggled and pecked Elvis’ lips one more time before he allowed you to step away from him and hand him a pair of sunglasses, which he put on his face. You put on a pair of your own, pink heart shaped ones, and shoved the pack of cigars he handed you in your clutch before you slipped your hand in his and walked downstairs to the cars in the garage with everyone else following behind.

 

Boney M. was blasting through the speakers the moment Elvis set foot inside the club with you. He hated how he recognized the song and the fact that he actually knew the lyrics to freaking Daddy Cool, but he wasn’t going to complain.

You already seemed in your element, tugging him through the crowd and to the VIP section that was reserved just for “Y/N and entourage”. Maybe Joe was right- he wasn’t about to get down and boogie, but perhaps he could let loose a little bit and have fun with his girlfriend and his friends.

Besides, this was a whole different crowd than the people who visited his shows or even listened to his music. Some people turned their heads and pointed him out, but they seemed more interested in you. He knew you were a well known name on this scene- you did back up vocals for musicians he barely knew, but who were obviously big names in disco music. People also knew and loved you because whenever you visited a new nightclub, it became a household name instantly.

Elvis felt like he had stepped into a completely different world and he wasn’t too far off. He was in your world now.

You were already buzzing in your shoes the second you came inside and you could barely sit still- the kind of energy that usually radiated off of Elvis was now coming from you. It was so intense that it made him a little nervous, laughing at you as you swayed in your seat while lighting a cigarette.

“You wanna dance, honey?” he asked the obvious, already knowing the answer. You looked at him with excitement in your eyes, but then raised your eyebrows in suspicion as you blew out some smoke from the corner of your mouth.

“With you?”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughed teasingly, taking the cigarette from your hand to take a drag from it. “I need at least five shots before you see me down there,” he nodded to the dancefloor outside of the VIP section and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

The Memphis Mafia had the drinks flowing before you could even ask for it and drinks were poured for you and Elvis, which you greedily downed in one go.

Unlike your man, you didn’t need the liquid courage to dance your little heart out.

“You go take those shots- I’ll see you when you’ve grown a pair,” you told him in his ear so he could hear you above the music, laughing as you kissed his cheek and abandoned your clutch in his care as you got up and ran onto the dancefloor with the girls, making Elvis laugh and shake his head a little at your antics. You were probably one of the few girls he allowed to talk to him like that.

 

With the Donna Summer’s dreamy I Feel Love blasting through the speakers and colored lights dancing from one person to another, it didn’t take you very long to get lost in the atmosphere.

The sunglasses you had been wearing were stolen by Joan who was messing around with the others. They were dancing and enjoying the music, but they weren’t as captivating as you were.

Because to you, this wasn’t a simple night out to break the dullness of your weekly routine. This is what you did nearly every day, this is what you lived for. Not only did the girls, your boyfriend and the Memphis Mafia know it, so did the people that you were a familiar face to- they loved watching you and joining you on the dancefloor to try and get equally as lost in the music as you.

Your hips were rotating to Donna’s high voice, hands up and running through your hair as your head was thrown back, eyes closed. You were brought to a completely different world, so much so that you hadn’t even noticed Jerry and Red joining you. This wasn’t their scene at all but as The Sweet Inspirations joined the party, they wanted in on the fun.

“Here comes Elvis,” Estelle shouted in your ear with a laugh, making you open your eyes and look for him in the sea of people.

Strobe lights illuminated on his face and in his hair as he made his way through the crowd, having left his white blazer behind in the VIP section with Joe. The people around him barely gave him the time of day- they were either high on the music or some kind of substance and although this was new to Elvis, he liked it.

Just for tonight, he felt like a normal person.

Just as he reached you, the song ended and shifted into How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees. He pouted playfully, slipping his arms around your waist and placing a flat hand on your lower back, pushing you against his chest.

“Damnit, I wanted to watch you dance, honey,” he laughed in your ear as he leaned down to you, placing an open mouthed kiss on the curve of your neck. You giggled as you swung your arms around his neck, looking at him as you swayed to the music.

“The night is still young,” you grinned, making him sway with you. He was a little stiff, but due to the shots he indeed took back at the table, he moved along with you. “Do you got enough drinks in your system?”

“What’d you think?” he grinned as he playfully crossed his eyes, laughing along with you as he pecked your lips. You knew you could never get Elvis to perform a whole routine for everyone to see with you, but the way he was swaying you to one of your favorite songs right now was already enough for you.

And when he started singing along, gently pressing his forehead against yours as his fingertips tickled your bare back, your heart skipped a beat.

“Have you secretly been listening to the Bee Gees?” you questioned teasingly as you pressed yourself against him a little firmer, letting your fingertips play with the hair in the nape of his neck. He grinned as he leaned down to your neck again, his hands running up your back as he planted a kiss on the heated skin of your shoulder.

“No, baby, you just play it so goddamn much that it gets stuck in my head,” he chuckled, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making goosebumps crawl onto your flesh. Your excitement was slowly turning into arousal- an effect Elvis always had on you, and he knew it so damn well.

He knew that if he’d gently sink his teeth in your earlobe and flick the tip of his tongue against it that it would get you to tug on his hair a little. A mean, teasing grin spread across his face as you moaned softly in his ear, which even above the loud music, was crystal as clear to him.

Rick James’ Super Freak suddenly blasting through the speakers reminded you that you were in public and in the middle of the dancefloor. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, but right now the excitement and adrenaline of the music was coming back to you- when you pulled back and grabbed his hands, he immediately widened his eyes as he realised what you were trying to do.

“Y/N- hell no,” he warned in a low rumble when you were already dancing to the beat of the music, trying to get him to move along.

You were laughing like crazy, already knowing this would freak him out- you allowed him to pull his hands back and when he pushed Jerry and Red toward you, you held your hands out to them.

Red looked at Elvis, raising an eyebrow as he shrugged and took your hand, Jerry following his example. You’d much rather see Elvis get down to Super Freak, but you took whatever you could get- the Mafia guys, who obviously had already more to drink than Elvis did, danced with you to the upbeat song. Elvis didn’t mind you getting all up close and personal with the guys because he trusted you and he was laughing his head off, making his way back to the VIP section to not look like the only fool on the dancefloor who was standing still.

 

It was like inside these four walls, you were a freaking robot. You barely came to the table for a drink- he noticed you trying to make your way over now and then, only for you to talk to someone you knew or run back because one of your favorites were being played.

You just didn’t stop dancing. Not for anything or anyone.

Even when Jerry and Red made their way back and Charlie lasted on the floor for a total of ten minutes with you, and even when all the Mafia ladies were catching their breaths, you were still going. He wasn’t worried though, since you were mostly dancing with The Sweet Inspirations who took a great liking to you- for obvious reasons.

Elvis recognized the tunes of Le Freak by CHIC and sipped from the Margerita you and Myrna had ordered for him in good humor. It was one of the few cocktails he liked and it got him tipsy pretty fast- which was your aim, because you wanted his ass back on the dancefloor.

You were about to get what you want, but not for the reason you were expecting.

Elvis could see everything and everyone clearly from where he was- he had a good laugh at the way some people danced and guys trying to shoot their shot with girls but failing. It seemed like a couple of guys had their sights set on you and the girls, dancing closer and closer to you and Cissy as you were playfully twirling her around.

He waited and sat back for a second- he knew you were perfectly fine standing up for yourself and grinned to himself as he saw you ignoring the guys completely, turning your back to them. They either couldn’t take the hint or were a bunch of asses, because they kept trying to squeeze themselves into your little dance circle.

At one point, Estelle literally told one of them to “fuck off”, and it was then that everything seemed to escalate. Just as he got up, he saw one of the guys pulling the string of your top that was neatly tied around your ribcage loose and putting his hands on your waist- you were grabbing onto your top to keep yourself decent and the fucker took this to his advantage, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his chest roughly.

Elvis was flying out of the VIP area and onto the dancefloor so fast, the others were left behind in confusion. Sonny and Red realised he wasn’t going to dance with the way he was shoving people out of his way and storming over to you- they followed as quick as possible, but couldn’t stop Elvis from pulling the guy off of you and punching him right across the jaw. People who knew you were getting involved now as well as the guy’s friends and you quickly tied your top back together, grabbing onto Elvis’ shoulders as he was now in a screaming match with your assaulter- when the guy went in for a punch, you realised he made the biggest mistake he could.

Elvis, with great experience in karate and being faster, blocked him and landed a sharp slap on the side of his neck. This took the guy back, but as he noticed Red, Sonny and Jerry getting physical with his own friends, he decided he wasn’t done with Elvis yet. At this point, girls were getting involved as well and you let out a shriek as you were suddenly yanked back and off Elvis.

Now you weren’t an expert at fighting, but Elvis taught you a thing or two. Unlike him, you didn’t like carrying a weapon everywhere you went but he wanted you to be able to protect yourself and made you spar with him twice a week. It wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but you were glad about it now.

You avoided a slap in the face by ducking when you saw the girls' hand coming toward you and grabbed her arm, roughly pulling it behind her back. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you pushed her into the crowd as hard as you could- the random girl didn’t seem like she had enough and came back for more, literally running toward you. You panicked for a second, stepping aside and sticking out your foot- she tripped and landed right on her face, but before you could walk away and go back to Elvis, she had pulled you down to the floor with her.

God, this bitch was crazy.

You didn’t know where anyone was, because quite literally half of the club was fighting by now, but what you did know was that you had to get this monster off of you. She seemed drunk and her movements were sloppy, a little slow even, making it easy for you to avoid her nails which she tried to scratch you in the face with. Grabbing her wrists, you pulled your leg up and kneed her in between her thighs harshly, rolling her onto the floor. You didn’t want to hurt this girl because aside from attacking you for no good reason, she didn’t do anything wrong- she was just drunk and caught up in the moment.

But as you were pinning her wrists to the floor and trying to keep her legs still by sitting on her thighs, she was screaming and writhing as hard as she could underneath you. She looked possessed with the way she was moving her head from left to right so fast her face was covered with her hair- you did the only thing you could think of to distract her and get away, landing a firm punch on her nose.

She stopped moving, grabbing onto her face as you let go of her hands and quickly got up. You yelled a quick “sorry!” but doubted she could hear it, running back to Elvis.

The guy he had punched before was nowhere to be seen, but he was in a new screaming match with two completely different guys now. Before any more fighting could take place, you got in between them and planted yourself in front of Elvis. You placed a hand on Elvis’ chest and looked at the guys, telling them to walk away and softly pushing their shoulders- your intention wasn’t to start something new entirely, but this could never go right whenever alcohol was involved.

One of the guys didn’t like the way you kept touching him and suddenly grabbed your wrist, shouting profanities in your face- at the same time, you were still trying to hold back Elvis, which was getting more difficult the angrier he got.

“Get outta here, you Presley whore,”

That’s it.

Elvis knew something like that would set you off and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the colorful dancefloor. You thought he was going to drag you away, but when he didn’t, you took the opportunity to bend your knees and kick your heels against the guys’ chest so hard it made him fly back against the DJ booth.

“We should probably get outta here,” Elvis yelled in your ear, making you nod and take his hand as he put you back down. You grabbed Red’s arm as you were pulled past him and as he noticed you were making a run for it, he got everyone else to follow as well. Elvis snatched his blazer from the VIP section and draped it around your shoulders, using the chaotic atmosphere to his advantage as he took you out of the club.

 

“Shit! My sunglasses!” you pouted as you sat in the backseat of the car with Joan and Myrna, pouting at Elvis through the rearview mirror as he sat in the passenger’s seat, Joe’s boots in his lap because he couldn’t drive with them.

The entire car was silent as everyone looked at you until Elvis suddenly started laughing, throwing his head back as his shoulder shook with vibration and tears stung in his eyes. Everyone joined in and you couldn’t stay serious anymore too, pinking away some tears from the corner of your eyes.

“What?! I loved those sunglasses!” you hiccuped, laughing harder when Joan was gasping for air, slapping your thigh in the process.

“You broke a girl’s nose tonight- I d-don’t think you’ll g-get them back, Y/N,” Myrna wheezed, making you gasp through your laughter.

Elvis turned around in his seat, laughing even harder when he looked at you. It was partly the alcohol in his system that made him feel this way and partly the adrenaline of what just happened- despite it all, he was still having fun. Tonight he hadn’t been Elvis Presley the performer, but just Elvis.

Goofy friend, protective boyfriend and apparently, someone who did karate at a discotheque.

“Baby, you broke someone’s nose?!”

“I guess so!” you doubled over, holding onto the front seats as you giggled, looking back up at your boyfriend. “I just did what you taught me- the bitch look possessed, I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Damnit- can’t believe I had to miss that,” he joked, leaning forward to you to capture your lips in a kiss. He allowed it to turn a little heated, making everyone in the car protest as Joe managed to get you back to the International safely despite laughing so hard behind the wheel.

 

You and Elvis were still laughing as you said goodbye to everyone and were riding the elevator up to the top floor, but as soon as you got in the room and pushed him against the nearest wall while crashing your lips onto his, he knew the mood had completely turned around.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it.

Slipping his hands under the blazer and up your shoulders, he pushed the fabric off and let it land on the floor. You moaned softly in his mouth as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and he softly but teasingly bit your lower lip when your hands traveled down the silk fabric of his shirt and down to his growing erection.

Palming him through his pants, he grunted and pushed his hips forward a little as his fingers found the strings of your top. He pulled the one around your ribs loose and didn’t waste any time as he did the same to the one around your neck, letting the skimpy shimmering fabric fall to your feet.

“You know,” you told him in between kisses, making him hum in response. “That was kinda hot- how you fought off those guys,”

You had seen Elvis do karate before when he was messing around with the guys or practicing with his teacher at the dojo, but you’d never seen him truly in action. You hadn’t had the time to get turned on by it when it happened because you were rather… occupied… yourself, but now that you thought back on it, it was just so hot.

“Oh yeah?” he laughed softly, slipping his hands over your ribcage and softly squeezing your breasts in his large hands, his thumbs caressing over your perked nipples. “You did most of it for the second half,”

“Hmm yeah, I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” you playfully wiggled your eyebrows at him, squeezing his cock through the confinements of his pants a little firmer. He groaned, chasing your lips with his own to nibble on your lower lip before sweeping his tongue across it.

“The best. We make a great team, baby,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up. You let out a little shriek as he threw you on the soft king sized bed in the bedroom, blowing some hair out of your face.

Propping your elbows on the mattress, you watched your boyfriend take off his shirt and belt, dropping them to the floor. That belt was worth a shit ton of money and people would probably get a whiplash seeing how casually he treated it, but neither you or him gave a damn about it now. Kicking his shoes off, he grabbed your ankles and took your heels off one by one before crawling onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

You ran your hands through his hair as he placed sloppy open mouthed kisses on your lips and over your face, working his way down your neck and your chest- you wanted to reach down to take his pants off, but you were too late as he moved down lower, letting his tongue swirl around your nipple before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it softly. Combined with the feeling of his hand sliding down your stomach and easily flicking the button of your pants open, shoving his fingers underneath the fabric once your zipper was done, you couldn’t stay quiet and he hadn’t expected you to- you had never been a shy one.

Your eyes met his as he looked up at you with a small grin, lips still attached to your breasts as his fingers creeped in your panties and spread your slick around before rubbing your clit in a slow pace. The sight of you gasping and the sound of you letting out small whiney moans made his cock twitch in his pants and he quickly kissed and licked his way down to your lower abdomen, removing his hand out of your underwear so he could take your pants off.

Impatiently, you helped him by pulling it down your hips as fast as you could and he laughed as he pulled the fabric off your ankles, throwing it as far away from him as possible when he finally managed to get it off. Your panties followed quickly by your own doing and he decided to make himself comfortable by taking off his last pieces of clothing too, making sure he was back on the bed before you even had a chance to move.

Not that you were thinking of being anywhere else but here.

He grabbed your thighs, bending them backwards a bit more as you spread your legs for him- you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore, letting yourself fall back on the soft plushy pillows behind you when he kissed the insides of your thighs.

“Fuckin’ pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself with a grin, your soft laugh turning into a gasped moan as he leaned in without warning and dragged his tongue through your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucked on it for only a few seconds before dipping his tongue down again and exploring every inch as if it was his first time down there.

Elvis liked to take his time with foreplay, so when he was pretty much making out with your pussy, you were definitely not complaining. Your hand found its way into his hair, nails scraping his scalp softly which made him moan right into your folds and sending vibrations right onto your clit- you moaned out his name, pushing his face firmly against your skin. With his hands still holding back your thighs, he allowed it and stopped moving as he held his tongue stuck out- you took the hint and held his head in place by grabbing a fistful of his hair, moaning as you shamelessly used his tongue the way you wanted to by twirling your hips. Most of his lower face and his nose were covered with your arousal and it only got him turned on more, thrusting his hips forward against the sheets underneath him.

Even when you let go, Elvis didn’t back away- instead, he went in more determinedly, pulling high pitched moans from you that came from your very core as he pushed two digits inside of you. With how turned on you were, it was an easy task.

“Oh my G-God, Elvis,” you groaned, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he pulled his face out from between your thighs with a gasp for air, his fingers relentless as he pumped them in and out of you. He shot you a teasing smirk, wrapping an arm around your thigh and resting his arm on your lower abdomen to stop you from trying to get away.

You didn’t want to get away, but as his fingers rubbed fast, consistent circles on your clit, you were pretty sure the floor below you could hear you screaming your boyfriend’s name. He knew you were close to climax by the way you were clawing at the sheets and his arms, inhaling sharp breaths through your teeth as you groaned.

He knew he was a bit of an ass for laughing, but he just loved how out of your mind you already looked while he was far from being done with you. He braced for the impact of your foot that you planted against his shoulder, trying to break free from his grip, and just laughed as you couldn’t get him to move a muscle. You squeezed your eyes shut, accepting your faith as you felt your orgasm about to rear its head around the corner- before it could, he pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely.

“Elvis!” you protested breathlessly and a little annoyed, opening your eyes. You could see him grinning but then you were met with the pillows underneath you as he grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pulling your ass back.

“God, baby- you’re so fuckin’ impatient,” he taunted, landing a harsh slap against your ass that left your thighs shaking. “What’re you in such a rush for, hmm? We got all night,”

You giggled softly at his words, swaying your hips left to right impatiently- he responded to it by grabbing onto your ass cheeks with both hands, spreading them and letting a dribble of spit fall in between them. You gasped softly at the wetness slipping over your second hole and down the inside of your thigh. Elvis grinned at the sight, leaning in to drag his tongue over it a few times before he dipped the muscle down lower, shoving the tip of it inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” you let out a little shriek, grabbing onto the nearest pillow you could find and squeezing it in your hands so hard your knuckles were turning white. Laughing at your reaction, he sunk his teeth in one of your ass cheeks and pulled away- when you looked over your shoulder, you watched him straighten up on his knees and taking hold of his cock, pumping it a few times before rubbing his tip through your folds, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit.

“So eager tonight,” he laughed as you pushed your ass back a little, trying to get him to slip into you one way or another. He squeezed your ass before moving it to your hip, letting it rest there as he looked at you with teasing eyes. “I love it,”

You hummed as you grinned at him, not able to still your hips and still trying to get him where you wanted him most- he was still being a damn tease, covering his cock with your arousal by slipping it back and forth through your folds, making you more needy with his dirty talk.

You loved him and you loved whenever he took his time with you, but you needed to be fucked.

Right now.

“Good God, Elvis- do you ever stop talking?”

 

There wasn’t any malicious intent behind your words nor did you mean them, but you did make sure to sound extra bratty.

Elvis knew this, but it did light a whole new fire inside of him and it gave you exactly what you wanted. He didn’t go slow nor did he give you time to get used to the stretch like he usually did- he let out a deep, nearly animalistic, groan as he pushed himself inside of you and thrusted into you at a quick, steady pace. He grinned as you let out a “fuck yes”, seeing your eyes roll in the back of your head as you lowered your head back on the pillows, his fingertips digging into your hips as he held onto them.

The bed was used to the weight of the both of you going at it, but the headboard banged against the wall with every single one of his thrusts. As one of his hands traveled up your spine, it felt as if he was leaving behind a trail of fire, alerting all your senses- he twirled his hand around your hair, holding it in a messy makeshift ponytail as he pulled your head back in your neck, leaning forward to force his tongue in your mouth.

His thrusts never faltered once.

You greedily welcomed the wet muscle, moaning in his mouth- before you could teasingly bite his lip, he had already broken the kiss and pressed the side of his face against yours, letting go of your hair to let his hand rest around your neck, fingertips placed at your jaw. The feeling of the very light stubble breaking through rubbing against your cheek made your muscles contrast around his cock repeatedly. His breath was hot on your skin as he grunted and moaned, his hair messily framing his face- you could cum right there and then.

“Startin’ to believe those fuckers were right,” he grinned, lapping his tongue along the shell of your ear, biting your earlobe. “You are a whore,”

Roughly letting go of your jaw and leaning back again, he grabbed onto your hips once more and slowed down his thrusts. You looked over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes at him as you moaned when he allowed you to fuck yourself onto him when he stilled his hips altogether.

“Maybe I am,”

The way you were looking at him and giving him one of your little teasing smiles, he had to hold himself back from fucking you right through the bed. Rushing a hand through his hair to get some out of his face, he tilted his head and smirked.

“Not maybe- you are, baby. My whore,”

He bit his lip, cursing softly when your walls spasmed around his cock because of his words, pushing back onto him harder and faster.

“Y-Yes, only yours, El,” you whined softly as he grabbed onto your hips and pulled out of you- you took the chance to roll around, welcoming him back in between your thighs as he once more thrusted himself inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, this time giving you the satisfaction of kissing him hungrily and making the headboard hit the wall even harder by placing his hands on either side of your head, fucking you as if it was his last day on Earth.

 

It were the little things that got you riled up when it came to Elvis. Things that might not be anything note worthy to some people, things that people might barely pay attention to when having sex with their partner.

But it was the way the cross on his necklace hung in your face and the feeling of his rings on your skin as his hand squeezed at your breast or was resting around your neck that got you moving one of your hands in between your connecting bodies to rub your clit in the same pace he was still thrusting into you.

You couldn’t look away from his face when he pulled back from the kiss to inhale a sharp breath of air, upper lip raised a little and hooded eyes boring into your soul. He looked absolutely stunning with pleasure written all over his features, some strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

You were very aware that you weren’t the first one to see Elvis in a position like this one and perhaps you wouldn’t be the last, but all that mattered was that you had him now. And you’d be damned if you’d ever let him get away and allow someone else experience this force of a man.

Elvis knew you were close and he wasn’t going to deny you this time- he watched you arch your back a little, letting you cross your ankles behind his lower back to keep him trapped in between your legs. It was hard, but he managed to postpone his own orgasm as your muscles clenched around his cock frantically, his name rolling off your tongue in a mantra.

Just like he knew you, you knew him and you could see he wasn’t able to last very long anymore. His thrusts were getting sloppy, grunts louder and raspier- you didn’t hesitate when he told you to get on your knees as he pulled out of you and he stood up on the bed, rapidly jerking himself off in front of your face as he held onto the headboard of the bed with his other hand.

The way you sat there with your hands placed on his thighs, eyes closed and tongue stuck out, made him let out a shaky laugh. You knew it was coming, but the feeling of a few spurts of cum landing on your face still startled you- Elvis moaned as he watched you move a little closer, letting his cock rest on your tongue as he came, painting the back of your tongue white.

Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him as he tapped his cock against your tongue a few times before pulling back, closing your mouth and swallowing what he fed you. It wasn’t the first time you did it, but it was a sight he could never get enough of. As you grinned and showed him your tongue for proof that you swallowed it all, he laughed softly, catching his breath.

“If I knew we’d end the night like this, I would’a joined you to your little disco parties sooner,”

He got on his knees again and let himself fall back on the mattress, pulling you along with him and onto his chest. You smiled as you crawled on top of him, running both your hands through his hair while kissing him. You shivered as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and ass, taking his lower lip in between your teeth to tug on it playfully.

“Disco makes me horny- why do you think I go dancing so much?”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at you, not knowing if you were serious or not. While the music didn’t get you humping everything in sight like a damn fool, it was true that losing yourself in the music made you feel… some type of way.

Maybe that was a little secret you were going to keep to yourself, because you knew Elvis would never let you hear the end of it if he’d find out you were serious.

When you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and laughed along with you, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “You little slut,”

“I prefer the term whore,”

He looked at the finger you held in front of his face and grinned, sucking it in between his lips before he got you underneath him again and attacked your face and neck with kisses.

Thank God you hadn’t had too many drinks earlier, because something told you the night was far from over.

 

The next afternoon, a knock on the door woke you out of your slumber. Sitting up in the bed, you needed a few seconds to acclimate- you heard the shower running, which explained the empty spot in the bed next to you. With clothes scathered on the floor and one of Elvis’ sunglasses sitting crookedly on your face, memories of last night replayed in your mind, bringing a smile to your face.

You didn’t have much time to reminisce about your sexual adventures with your boyfriend as the person at the door knocked again, a little louder this time. You shot up from the bed, grasping your kimono like robe from the floor and putting it on while jogging to the front door.

You were glad to not be met with any of the guys, but with an employee of the hotel instead, bringing you the room service Elvis must’ve ordered before he went to take a shower. You gave the kid a generous tip after he rolled the cart with food in the room and closed the door behind him. Realising you were still wearing Elvis’ glasses, you laughed at yourself and pushed them up in your hair- stealing a croissant from one of the plates, you grabbed the newspaper and let yourself fall back on the couch in the living area.

As you noticed the front page of the paper, you nearly choked on your croissant- quickly sitting back up, you threw the croissant on the coffee table and ran into the bathroom.

Elvis nearly jumped out of his skin as the door swung open and you came running in, immediately stopping himself from humming a Donna Summer song.

You and that damned music- it was rubbing off on him.

“Have you seen this?!” you questioned although you doubted it, plastering the newspaper against the glass of the shower door. Elvis frowned and wiped away some fog, pushing his hair back as he squinted his eyes, looking at what you were showing him.

The King of Rock ’n Roll caught in Vegas brawl with his Disco Queen

“Read it to me,” he ordered, immediately turning the shower off. You looked at the picture of you and Elvis that were taken on a different day, sighing deeply as you looked at him, a bit doubtful to read it. “C’mon, read it!”

You sighed at the impatient tone in his voice and took a step back so he had enough space to step out of the shower and wrap a towel around his waist, opening the paper on the right page.

When you read the first few words, you looked at him again. “It’s just bullshit- let’s call Joe, he’ll know how to make this disappear,”

He sighed and shook his head, grasping the paper out of your hands and spreading it open in front of him. You grabbed onto his arm as you stood next to him, reading the words for yourself even though he was reading out loud.

“Elvis Presley and his hip-shaking lady Y/N L/N were spotted at Kaleido last night along with Presley’s entourage and back-up singers The Sweet Inspirations. They started off the night in one of Kaleido’s luxury VIP sections, enjoying drinks and conversation, but Presley and L/N didn’t seem to enjoy each other’s company like they did in the early years of their relationship – could there be trouble in paradise?” Elvis read faster and faster with every sentence and you gasped at the dumb things the media was writing, taking the newspaper out of his hands.

“Presley’s girlfriend of four years had no problems with leaving her man behind with his friends as she showed off her signature dance moves to the many on-lookers. Read: men. Not even Elvis’ friends were safe from her flirtatious behavior,” you continued as you paced around the bathroom, your fingertips crumbling the paper with how tight you were holding on to it. “Those fuckers!”

Elvis took advantage of your little outburst, stealing the newspaper from you once more to continue reading. His eyes traveled across the lies that were written about you enjoying male attention and continued at the part where they were writing about the fight that took place. They even had pictures that were taken by someone in the club printed on the page.

“Listen to this,” he told you, making you stop pacing and cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked at him. “Like his music, Elvis Presley is still stuck in old times. Just like back in 1956 during an unfortunate gas station accident with.. blablabla, he was the first one to throw a punch. He laid out three guys by showing off his expertise in karate, a sport he has been practicing since early on in his career, and according to one of our sources it was all done in a flash of jealousy after he saw his girlfriend getting a little too cozy with other party-goers. The same source told us that once everyone was too busy to notice, the couple got in a fight themselves too, screaming at each other and Presley dragging L/N out of the club like a rag doll. It would come to nobody’s surprise if after last night Elvis Presley has stopped diggin’ the Dancing Queen,”

Elvis barely read the newspapers anymore but he had no idea when they started putting polls with articles, 70% of the people having voted that his relationship with you wouldn’t last for another week. And since when were newspaper journalists so damn nosy about a celebrity relationship?

He tore his eyes off the photos covering half the page- photos of the moment he grabbed you and lifted you up, photos of him pulling you out of the club. To an unknowing eye, it did indeed seem a little like you and him were the ones arguing with each other. He knew everyone in his and your close circle knew better though, but this could damage both his and your reputation.

“What do we do now?” you questioned, letting out a deep sigh, letting your head fall against his chest as you stood in front of him. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.

“Let’s call Joe,”

 

For the rest of the day Joe and The Colonel worked hard to keep today’s newspaper out of everyone’s hands, talking on the phone to God knows who- they were doing anything to get this story to disappear, which was reassuring, but you knew people have seen it already.

The Colonel, who usually went by the motto of “bad publicity is publicity too”, even made a visit to the Vegas Sun office himself to set things straight. Some bullshit story was one thing, but he wasn’t about to let the public think Elvis laid a finger on you, a woman.

He also suggested that you and Elvis go out on the town again tonight and see a Tom Jones show at the Flamingo, so the public could see you were still together and in a healthy, happy relationship.

So, after Elvis’ midnight show, you were sitting in a booth in the showroom of the Flamingo Hotel with Elvis, Joe and Charlie. Elvis usually sent photographers away after they took a couple of shots but this time, he let them linger around.

“My cheeks are about to burst,” you whispered to him as you kept smiling brightly, not wanting to let the camera’s catch you looking “grumpy” or “uninterested” as the media would twist it into.

Elvis laughed as he sat close to you, one hand wrapped around his glas on the table and his other arm resting around your shoulders. He leaned in to you and kissed your cheek, moving down lower to talk in your ear.

“That’s what you get for draggin’ me to your silly little disco parties,”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his teasing, but stopped yourself just in time when a camera flashed in your face. “Oh shush, you loved it,”

“I loved the afterparty more,” he hummed in your ear, flicking his tongue against your earlobe before kissing your neck, making you giggle. Caressing your nails over his thigh, he moaned softly in your ear as his hand found its way in your hair, hoping you were about to feel him up under the table when he felt your hand creeping higher and higher.

Though, before your hand was where he wanted it most in this moment, you tapped his thigh teasingly and placed your hand innocently on his knee.

“You’re gonna have to wait a few more hours then,” you grinned, removing your hand altogether to raise your glass from the table and bring it to your lips, watching Tom Jones sing his heart out while engaging with the audience.

Elvis squinted his eyes at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You little minx- you’re gon’ get it once we get back,”

You didn’t look at him but laughed, swaying to the music a little. He put his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek and then signed for Joe to send the photographers away. Both you and Elvis visibly relaxed a bit more and you turned your head, pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Can’t wait, babe. Maybe we should make a video, let ‘em know we’re extra in love,”

He knew you were joking, but now that you suggested it, it was all he could think about. Obviously it would be for his own personal collection only.

He knew it would take a bit of convincing, but luckily for him, he could be very persuasive.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost @ccab @angelborn-1998

[presleyhearted]

Just in Time | one-shot

・❥・Pairing : Elvis Presley x reader

・❥・Genre: Time Travel!AU, angst, fluff,'70s!Elvis, loosely based on the TV show 'Timeless.'

・❥・Word Count: 7.6k

・❥・Summary: You are a part of a small team of people whose job is to time travel to the past, to prevent someone and his gang from changing history. But on a mission to protect a certain famous figure from the '70s, things take a turn. You are left to face the consequences of bringing the king of rock 'n roll himself to the year 2023.

・❥・Ratings & Warnings : SFW. A lot of angst, mentions of death, brief period of Elvis being unconscious, mentions of health conditions. Nothing too major though, don't worry.

・❥・Author's Notes: Hi! So this is my very first one-shot, I guess? I've never written one before and I have no idea what is the appropriate word count for one, if I'm being honest. This can also be read as Austin!Elvis if you prefer. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! Also I want to mention that this is not cross-posted anywhere else. This is my writing, please do not copy this.

@literally-just-elvis-fics

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“They are taking too long, “ You said, as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. 

“They’ll be back soon. Don’t fret too much Y/N, “ Your boss, Francine, replies with her arms crossed as she portrays all confidence and calmness. You still can’t believe that it’s been three years since Francine recruited you as part of her team, and how long it took her to convince you that it wasn’t a practical joke. 

After all, who the hell would believe someone who tells you that they are offering you a job to be a time traveller? It sounds like a classical plot from a sci-fi movie, you thought. But something in the corner of your mind, perhaps that wishful thinking of the child version of you - brought you to call Francine from the number left on the business card she gave you. 

Once she met you at what she labelled the headquarters, which was really an underground bunker that seemed to be reminiscent of the dystopian movies that were once popular, you began to believe her. Well, and then she showed you a circular-type of metal vehicle with it’s contents inside involving three seats with multiple seatbelts and all the technicalities of the engine and the buttons to operate it. Then and there, Francine told you it was the time machine - and the only one ever in the world. She then told you that it has been test-driven before by herself and the scientists and engineers involved in its creation. 

And so, you accepted. 

It turned out you weren’t the only sceptic though. Francine approached two other people to be part of her team, and eventually, just like you they accepted. The actual job itself was not time travelling for the sake of time travelling. Each mission entails that you and the two other people - Ashton and Colin - were to prevent a particular man by the name of Max and his gang from changing history. They were ruthless and would go above and beyond to create havoc. With each mission, you held your breath and hoped and prayed that the three of you would return to the present time unscathed. That and successfully completing the mission. 

The three of you would always go on the missions together, as without one of you - it’ll be harder to achieve the aim. Until Francine noticed that you were more tired than usual and had a fever running, which she then decided that Ashton and Colin go ahead without you. It is not that you didn’t trust them, it’s just the anxiety of the waiting. 

And so, here you were pacing back and forth. 

“I should’ve gone with them.” You looked at Francine, in which she shakes her head. 

“You and I both know that you weren’t well enough.” 

“But I’m perfectly fine now!” 

“Now, yes. But a while ago you passed out on the couch.” 

You know that she has a point, but it still didn’t settle the nerves in your stomach. Like something has gone horribly wrong with the mission. 

You sighed, “I just have this sickening feeling that something did not go well.” You admit to her. 

“The mission was simple.” Francine argues.

You shake her head, “No, it’s not. Going back to 1972 to track down Max and his gang from possibly murdering a famous star - is anything but simple. What if they got themselves caught? Got themselves killed? What if they did more harm than good?”

“Have faith, Y/N. Ashton and Colin have done this a thousand times.”

Despite her efforts to calm you down, your anxiety cannot help but build up and you spill your thoughts. 

“Not without me they haven’t.” You say, running a hand through your face now.

“I mean, if I’m being honest why the hell is Max targeting Elvis Presley?” You shoot Francine a confused look. 

“I don’t know. We don’t know. But I do know that Max is a deviously smart man. He doesn’t do things just because.” Francine answers. 

All our past missions that you embarked on were self-explanatory. Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, The Watergate Scandal, Henry the VIII, The Second World War, The Moon Landing etc. If you ever had to protect a specific historical figure, they were mainly previous presidents, part of the government, members of monarchy for example. Never have you and the team ever encountered a mission whereby the focus is on an entertainer. Sure, it is undeniable that in the world of performers and actors, they are some that are famous no matter what. Those ones that are still so well-known despite no longer being on Earth. Elvis Presley is one of them. But you are so frustrated on why you cannot figure out why target him? Of course, there is no denying of his impact on music. But music is simply just music. 

Also, not to mention, you have been an Elvis fan since you could remember. Growing up with your grandparents endlessly playing his records whenever you would be at their house. So, although you cannot visit as often as you used to when you were younger, those same records played in your own apartment. This in itself just adds to your frustration because how could you, a very dedicated Elvis fan - not have even an inkling of an idea on why Max and his gang would target him? 

“They are coming!” One of the tech people behind the computer yells, both altering you and Francine who share a look of alert. 

A strong gust of wind blows against everyone as the time machine appears out of thin air, effectively standing still on the empty ground just opposite you, Francine and the team of tech people and scientists behind their computers. You smooth out your hair from the havoc caused by the strong wind. The engine stutters to a silence. 

You feel your heartbeat racing impossibly faster than ever. This is it. Once the door opens, you’ll have your answers to your questions. But what those answers may be - that you are unsure of. 

The door to the time machine slides open, revealing the people inside. You sigh in relief to see your colleagues and friends - Ashton and Colin. Both are breathing and are very much alive, but are sweating profusely and appear to have gone through hell and back. In summary, both are alive but it was definitely not an easy mission. But your breath gets caught up in your throat as your eyes cast over the unconscious figure that has their arms wrapped around Ashton and Colin’s shoulder. 

“Please, do not tell me that’s who I think it is.” You say in warning, clearly rhetorically. Because anyone, you don’t even have to be a fan to know that is definitely him. Sure there are hundreds of Elvis tribute artists out there, but knowing what you know in the nature of your job - that is most certainly an unconscious Elvis Presley that they are carrying. He is wearing that infamous white jumpsuit, the one with all the intricate details of the gemstones and a blue silk scarf wrapped around his neck. Rings upon rings adorned his fingers. 

“Surprise?” Colin says half-joking, half- terrified at the glare you are shooting them two. 

“You-” 

“We can explain.” Ashton interrupts, putting his hand up. 

“I defended both of you against Y/N’s concerns, you better have a good explanation for this.” Francine speaks up, her forehead suddenly knotted. 

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“. . . now do you see why we had no choice?” Ashton finishes explaining. You have been listening to their explanation for the past thirty minutes, as the famous rock ‘n roll star remains unconscious on the bed. His chest rising and falling. 

Initially, they were both sent there to protect Elvis Presley and to do it quietly. But in a turn of events, both reasonably couldn’t have avoided, they had no choice but to carry him to the time machine and just go, just as the bullets of Max and his gang rained on the exterior. They hoped to find Elvis Presley awake, but Max had other plans and planned to hurt the star while he was in his slumber in his Las Vegas penthouse. Luckily, Ashton and Colin were a step ahead and figured his plan out - but they had no second to waste. They had to act fast, with no time to really think about the consequences. And now, after hearing their story, you really couldn’t blame them for their choices. You feel that you would’ve done the exact same thing. 

“I just heard word that Max has time jumped again. November 22, 1963 Dallas,Texas.” Francine reports. 

“The assassination 0f JFK.” You respond quickly. 

All three of you begin to stand up from your seats, ready to head towards the wardrobe to change into clothing suitable for the period of time that you are about to enter. Francine, however, stops you all from getting to the door before anything. 

“Ashton and Colin go. Y/N, stay here.” Francine says. 

You begin to protest, “What? No-”

“You watch over Elvis here. You know the most about him compared to all of us here, plus you are medically trained.” Francine says. 

She was right. When Elvis wakes up, it’s not like there is the option of rushing him to the hospital in case of anything. And the usual doctor and nurse that were hired by Francine, have already left as Friday evening is quickly approaching. It was only down to you. You graduated with a bachelor’s in History and then went on to graduate from nursing school. It is only logical that you stay behind and look after Elvis. 

But, you being naturally stubborn, still persist to protest. 

You were about to argue that Ashton and Colin may need to rest as well, but seeing as they luckily obtained no injuries, left out that argument. 

“But they won’t have a historian with them.” You attempt to argue. 

Knowing that Francine saw how anxious you looked while awaiting Colin and Ashton to return, she must hear you out this time round. You don’t think you can bare another moment of that nerves of knowing it was only them two navigating their way through such a point in American history. It can’t be handled lightly. There is no way. 

“She does have a point, Francine.” Ashton says.

“Yes, they will.”

“Who?” Colin speaks up, curiously asking. 

“Me.” Francine smiles confidently. 

“I-”

“Come on, it’s only one trip. I am a historian myself, should I remind you all.” She explains, which is true. You asked her yourself when you were newly-hired on why she hired you, when she could just go on these missions herself. Her reasoning was that she was the main manager here. She is handling and managing not just the team, but the other employees and the entire operation. So, she went on to look for someone who will solely focus on fulfilling the role of historian. Luckily for her, she found you to be well-versed in history and medically competent. 

After a while of back and forth conversation, you sighed in defeat and agreed to Francine’s decision. All three of them soon boarded the time machine and disappeared into thin air. You just hoped and prayed that they all come back successfully soon. 

As Ashton and Colin have explained, they escaped with Elvis when he was in deep sleep, which he still is. Although he is not injured in anyway, you believe that it doesn’t hurt to still do your checks on him when he wakes up. It is not everyday that someone from the past travels 50 years into the future. And not to mention, someone who you know has several health conditions. 

Now that they were gone, your focus was solely on the raven-haired star that remained asleep on the bed. There were only three rooms in the underground headquarters, in case anyone in the team wanted to sleep here instead of going back to their own house. Even whilst asleep, you cannot help but admire him. Tanned skin, infamous black hair, and not to mention his many jumpsuits. You feel that even without all the glitz and glamour, he would still look effortlessly handsome. 

A groan disrupts you from staring at him, a sound that came from him. 

Shit. You think to yourself. You were still so caught up in trying to process the happenings of the last few hours, you actually haven’t mentally prepared a script or something on how you’ll respond from his questions. Because you know he’ll have questions, any sane person would. 

“W-Where am I? Goddamnit, Red! Why is the damn light so bright in here?” He curses, his hand quickly shielding his eyes from the brightness of the light above him. 

“Um. . . I-I’m sorry. I’ll dim them a little.” You say, hardly recognising the timidness of your voice. You go to the light switch and click the button to lower the brightness, then frantically go back to your chair beside him. 

But now it’s different. Now Elvis Presley has his eyes open, a beautiful blue that you only saw in photos and old videos on youtube. His eyebrows are quirked up in confusion with his eyes squinting at you, as if trying to make sense of the situation. 

“What. . . “ He trails off, “You’re not Red.” He mumbles. 

“No, I’m not.” 

He begins to sit himself up, but you were quick to stand up and gently encourage him to lay back down. 

“Please, lie back down. I promise I won’t hurt you. I-I just need to do a few checks.” You say, attempting to bring back the confidence in your voice. But with his gaze so fixated on you, as if he is studying every inch of your face, you feel yourself heat up. 

He fortunately follows your instructions, but his questions spew out. 

You get out your pen-light from your pocket and shine it into each of his eyes, noting down ‘pupils equal and reactive.’  You then instruct him to try and push back from your hands, and to raise his arms and legs. This is to test his strength and ability to follow instruction. You note down that all are normal and are competent. 

Elvis sighs, “What’s your name, honey?” He says, southern drawl prominent and you feel a weakness in your knees. 

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name. Y/N, can you please tell me what’s goin’ on?” 

You nod, still avoiding eye contact, “I will. I just need to check your vitals, okay?”

He nods. 

You fit a blood pressure cuff around his arm and take a stethoscope, listening intently to the systolic and diastolic beats. You are aware that due to his cardiac condition, he is hypertensive. The reading shows ‘140/90.’ Although you do not know his normal range, your clinical judgement says that these figures ring true with hypertensive patients. 

You then continue on to check his other vitals; heart rate, respiratory rate, oxygen saturation, temperature. All seem to be within his normal range, although he is presenting a little tachycardic - which is normal for him, and as you have yet to tell him what’s going on, you are sure anxiety mixed into it too. 

“Okay. All seem to be fine.” You conclude. 

“Can I sit up now, doll?” He asks, and you finally look at him. 

“Yeah, of course. But take it slow.” You warn him and decide to place your arms around him, helping him sit up. Once he does so, he leans against the wall and you return back to your seat. 

He looks around the room and you know that look in his eyes. The look that he is aware something bizarre is happening, his face glances to the modern technology. A flat screen TV and laptop on the table.

“I’m not in the hospital, am I?” He asks a smart question as you have just performed a nursing assessment on him. 

You shake your head, “No, you’re not in the hospital.”

“Where then? How’d I get here?” 

You took a deep breath, “Some people tried to harm you and so, my colleagues, they had no choice but to bring you here. You are safe here.”

“Where exactly is here, honey?”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating on how to explain it all to him. Or how much you can really say to him, as it is already such a danger that he is not in his time now. But then you remember the device that Francine told you about, a device that will help him forget about all this before he goes back. 

So then you explain it to him as best as possible, leaving out a few details of course. You tell him that he is in the year 2023 and about the nature of your job. You then tell him that someone was out to get him, and that’s the only reason why he has been brought here and now. You of course left out the details about Max and his gang, and also did not mention why you have this job in the first place. You simply told him that you time travel to protect history, to make sure that everything is how it is. No further detail. Afterall, once you return him back to his time period, he will naturally forget about all of this. 

Surprisingly, he took it better than you thought. Well, he initially thought that he was in some form of afterlife due to the unusual presence of modern technologies he had never seen before. But then you reassured him that is very far from the truth. Then he thought that someone was playing a prank on him, one of the members of the MM as he said, but you quickly shut down that theory of his. But then pretty soon after all that, he was calm and believed the truth of the situation. As a fan, after reading through many books written about him, you knew that Elvis was an open-minded person. He always believed that there is always so much more than what there is, so it didn’t come much to a surprise to you when he eventually did believe that time travel is real and he is indeed half a century into the future. That and also, unbeknownst to you, how could you not believe someone so beautiful and gentle with him? He was checking you out, and you oblivious as ever, did not even realise it. 

Elvis reveals that he is hungry, just like you predicted. The entire staff has decided to do a group order from a fast food place, in which you ordered two burgers, one coke, and one pepsi. A knock resounds on the door as one of the tech people hands you what you’ve ordered, so you thank him and settle back down to your seat. 

You hand Elvis a burger and a pepsi, “Thanks honey, I could eat.” He says to you, a grin finally showing on his lips. 

You smile back at him and eat your own burger. He is quiet for a while, savouring the flavours of the food in his hands. 

He takes a sip out of the Pepsi and smirks at you, “Hmm. . . how’d you know I like Pepsi?”

You should’ve seen that question coming. You didn’t even ask what he wanted to eat and drink, and yet, you have gotten it exactly right. It can be seen as a lucky guess, but the fact that you are a fan of his - now that is a much more believable reason. 

“Uh, lucky guess I suppose, Mr Presley.” You say, completely lying to your idol. You decided you didn’t really want to reveal to him that you were a fan of his, it did not seem to be professional. 

He whistles, “Mighty guess that is. Please call me Elvis, Mr Presley is my Dad.” He chuckles, and you nod. 

“Right. Sorry, Mr Pre- uh, I mean Elvis.”

You avoid eye contact again, feeling flustered by his intense gaze. You take a sip out of your bottle of coca cola. 

“You look out of sorts. C’mere, honey.” He says. 

“What?” You turn your head back to him, so much out of avoiding eye contact. 

“Sit next to me. “ Elvis says, patting the empty spot next to him on the bed. 

You hesitate. Sitting across from him in a chair was already making you flustered, and now he wants you to sit beside him? You don’t know how you could cope - the fanatic in you and the work version of you are suddenly at war. 

“C’mon, I don’t bite. “ He smirks. 

And so you sigh in defeat, standing up and sitting beside him on the bed with your back leaning against the wall like him. He smiles now in triumph. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask a reasonable and professional question. 

You have never brought back someone from the past to the present time. Lord knows what the possible side effects could be, what those could do to the person’s body. Even more so, someone you know is already experiencing challenges with his health back in his time period. It does not go unnoticed by you that Elvis’ breathing is abnormal and it is evident in the way he talks, how he would mumble his words before pronouncing them clearly. But you know that this is not a time travelling side effect, this is how he was back then - his known respiratory issues. Nevertheless, you feel your heart pinch at the reality of seeing it all before you. 

“Better now I have something to eat. Now, I’d much prefer to talk about you.” He says his flirtatious ways are not a surprise, but nevertheless you feel your face heat up. 

You spend the next hour just talking with Elvis. You find yourself mentally pinching yourself every now and again, as the reality of it all feels incomprehensible to you who is an Elvis fan. You find him stuttering from time to time and mumbling his words, but that boyish charm and that all too well-known southern drawl in his tone. You found yourself laughing, and you are pretty sure that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You’ve heard about Elvis’ sense of humour, but experiencing it yourself is a different matter. 

However, you found that no matter how much you try to divert the conversation back to him, he persists on getting it back to you. In which you found yourself involuntarily blushing as he gazed at you intently, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips from time to time. An action you know could very well indicate something, but before that could really go anywhere - you turn your head away very swiftly and clear your throat. 

Reminding yourself that this is work. You are at work. Work that so happens to now involve being in a room watching over Elvis Presley. 

“I-uhm-” You sputter, trying to find something, well anything really to change the subject of conversation. Your prayers seem to have been answered by the door opening and in comes Francine. 

“How’d it go?” You quickly ask her. 

She nods, “Good. All good.” Francine replies, going with a short answer knowing that she needs to be cautious with her words, as confidentiality is key with someone from the past being in the room. 

You sighed in relief at the news, “I’m glad.” 

Francine shuts the door behind her and approaches Elvis, they exchange introductions. But you know that Francine will receive a report from you later on about how he is really doing, in terms of health. 

“Y/N, can I please talk to you outside?” Francine asks, glancing back at Elvis very briefly. 

You nod and look back at Elvis, “I’ll be back, okay?” 

He smirks, “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” 

Once you exit the room and are now in Francine’s office, you are shortly joined by Ashton and Colin. They proceed to explain the details of their mission, but all your brain could focus on is the rock ‘n roll star that is sitting down by himself only a few feet away from you. Nevertheless, you pay attention to their explanation enough to know that the mission was a success. 

“So, how has he been?” Francine asks, you know she’s referring to Elvis. 

You nod, “Fine. Nothing too crazy, which is lucky, given that he was dragged into a time machine and dropped 50 years into the future.” You emphasise, as you shot both Ashton and Colin a look. 

They both just shrugged. 

“Hey, that’s good news right.” Ashton says. 

You sighed, “We need to get him back as soon as possible. Keeping him longer than necessary, well the fact that he is even here at all is already madness itself. “ 

Even though deep down in your heart, your fan heart, you didn’t quite mind that you get to spend time with him. But you know that this is not his time, he has to go back. 

Francine nods at your words, “I agree with Y/N. The longer we keep him here, the more possible consequences it could have to the past. We can’t have that.” 

Colin speaks up, “But how do we know that Max isn’t going to go back for him?” 

You become quiet. He does have a point, one you didn’t really think over. If he is returned now, how do we know that Max isn’t just going to repeat what he already attempted the first time around?

You all grow quiet for a few seconds. 

It was Francine who was the first to speak up, “We can’t be certain. But I do know that Max’s patience is not the greatest. If he does go back, he would’ve done it by now while we are here talking. Look how fast he time jumped to JFK. I have a feeling he won’t be returning for Elvis.” She confidently concludes. 

Colin slowly nods, “Fair enough. But I say we wait a while before returning Elvis back, just to make sure.” 

“Yeah, I agree with Colin.” Ashton says. 

You all then conclude that Elvis will have to spend three more hours before he is returned back to 1973. It is now just gone 10PM, which means all three of you need to go home now and get some rest, because you never know when Max time jumps again and you need all the energy you can when that happens. On that note, Colin and Ashton go home and you are now walking back to the room with Francine to say goodbye to Elvis for now. Francine informed you that she has called back the Doctor and Nurse to watch over him in the meantime, while you go home to rest. 

You both enter the room to find Elvis has fallen asleep. You quietly approach him and tap his shoulder gently, preparing to say your goodbye. He instantly wakes up at your action, as you know that he is a light sleeper - as his chronic insomnia being one thing he tried to fight. 

“Hi, darling.” He instantly grins at you. 

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

He frowns at your words, “Goodbye?”

“Only for the meantime. I need to go home to get some sleep, but I’ll be back in a few hours.” You smile at him. 

But your words don’t seem to ease the frown on his lips. 

“Can’t you just stay here?” He asks, voice soft. 

Francine clears her throat and you almost forgot that she is in the room. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Presley. I have the most competent medical professionals that will look after you while Y/N is resting.” Francine says.

But Elvis shakes his head, “No thanks, Ma’am. But I’m perfectly fine with Y/N.” 

You sigh at his stubbornness. 

“I assure you, they’ll take good care of you.” Francine repeats again. 

“I need to rest, Elvis. You’ll be fi-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Elvis grasps your hand and you gasp. 

“What if I come with her?” He asks, looking at Francine. 

You and Francine both share a look of shock, eyes widened. 

“Elvis, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say, knowing that this is an insane idea and judging by the look on Francine’s face she’s sharing similar thoughts. 

“Mr Presley, with all due respect, I don’t think that is a safe option for you. Y/N will return after three hours, and then we’ll get you back home.” Francine explains, hoping that it is enough to convince him. 

Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed, “You’ll take me back to my time in three hours?”

You nod, “Yeah, the hours will go by fast.” 

He is silent for a while, his head down low in thought. You exchanged looks with Francine, perhaps he’ll finally agree. 

“Even more reason why I should go with Y/N.” He speaks up and you sigh. 

“Ma’am, I appreciate your concern about my health.” He looks at Francine, “But I-I’m most comfortable with Y/N. She’s the one I know the most since being here. I promise I won’t be trouble. It’s like you say after three hours, I’ll be gone.” He pleads, eyes hopeful. 

You slightly understand his stubbornness now. He does have a point somehow, if you look at it all from his perspective. It’s not a normal circumstance at all, and the person that he really knows was you. He only trusts you. And who can blame him? It was such an unusual situation, and you know in yourself you’d be acting the exact same way if you were in his shoes. 

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Francine finally say something.

“Alright. I trust you to keep your word, Mr. Presley.” Francine says, giving him a look of warning. 

Elvis smiles in triumph, “Thank you, Ma’am.” 

Francine then turns to you, “Are you okay with this, Y/N?” 

You nod, not really being able to say anything right now.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Oh my god, this is actually happening. You say to yourself, trying to calm down and not freak out. Before leaving the headquarters, Francine was quick to warn you. She knew that you were a fan of Elvis, and of course by him being in your apartment - that is definitely crossing the line you’ve made between work life and personal life. But this is it. 

The drive to your apartment was anything but quiet, as even in the night time, the difference between the ‘70s and 2023 are strikingly standing out. This of course meant that Elivs was gawking at the difference in buildings, and the signs, the clothes people wore, and not to mention the cars that you drove past. It made your heart hurt a little to see him so excited, knowing that this will be the only time he’ll really live to see 2023. 

You’ve planned to go home to rest, but you really do think you won’t have much sleep. You’ll be too busy trying to worry about Elvis. You break out of your thoughts as you open the door to your apartment, letting Elvis enter first and then you. You quickly lock the door and flick the light on. 

“Make yourself at home. I’m just going to get changed, okay?” You tell him. 

Elvis smiles, “This is a cute place you’ve got here, honey.”

You change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable - the typical sweatpants and sweatshirt. You then opted for letting you hair down, out of the strict ponytail it was previously in. You quickly to your night skin care routine, and went back to the living room. 

You see Elvis not on the couch, as you expected, but in front of the Google Home Hub that was on your kitchen counter. His eyebrows were furrowed as he muttered curses to himself, frustration so evident. You bit back a smile at his confusion.

You walk over to him, “Hi, what are you up to?” 

He looks over to you, his eyes briefly glancing at you from head-to-toe and not in a subtle way either. He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and points at the Google Home Hub. 

“This. The hell is this thing? What’s a tiny television doing on your kitchen counter?” He asks, and you can’t help but laugh at his assumption. 

“It’s not a TV. It’s like a um. . .  how could I describe it,” You mumble to yourself and then snapped your fingers.

“It’s like you know a very thin computer screen? Well, it’s that. You can search any information that you want to know, it’s like an encyclopaedia. But instead of having a keyboard attached to it, you can just tap with your fingers. But on this version, you can use your voice.” 

Elvis tilts his head at you, “Honey, I don’t know what the hell you just said.” He laughs.

You cannot help but laugh at his adorable confusion. 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your eyes open, awakening from slumber. You yawn, quickly glancing at the clock in your living room as it reads 12.30AM. In just thirty minutes, you’ll be meeting back up with the team at the Headquarters - ready for Elvis to go home. Speaking of, you look around in a slight panic, but sigh in relief once you see Elvis on the couch with his eyes wide open as he stares at the ceiling. You originally thought about just sleeping in your own bed, but decided it wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to keep an idea on him. Instead, you opted for sleeping on the other couch right across from him in the living room. 

You spoke for a long time before you fell asleep. Both of you are so caught up in your own conversation. After of course trying to explain to Elvis the technology of today, in which he failed terribly at, but you both just laughed at it. He then went on to ask about what other ‘future things’ are available that differs greatly from the 1970s. But you also explained to him that some trends have been going in cycles and are coming back, like fashion for instance. He was quick to find your collection of vinyls, which inevitably led to him discovering your numerous vinyls of his records. He was quick to tease you about it, in which you shyly admitted that you were in fact a fan. 

But then the conversation turned from light-hearted to something a little heavier. You just weren’t prepared for it at all. Elvis noticed how whenever he would make a comment about him being an ‘old man’ in this time, you would grow silent very quickly and refuse to look him in the eye. Then again when he would question and wonder how he’d be living in this time period, so far from the young man that bursted into the scene in the 1950s. On how many people really are a fan of him, how many people remember him. Remember his music, he means. As he presumed that he retired from the music industry and just settled into family life. That is all his presumption of where he is in 2023. 

But then he caught you simply nodding hesitatingly at his theories, and he knew then and there that there was something you were hiding. You knew that before he leaves this time, his memories will be erased anyway, and so you told him. You told him about his unfortunate ending in this world. 

It was difficult for you to tell him, as you saw how watery his eyes got in seconds and how he was shaking his head in refusal of the truth. You couldn’t help but approach him and wrap your arms around him, wishing and hoping that it was different. You know that hugging him is not professional, but this one time, you had to make an exception. 

You saw that it was already 11PM now, it was time to get rest. You knew that your eyes were growing heavy, but you were worried about Elvis, knowing that sleep never was easy for him. But he assured you to not mind him, and just close your eyes. 

Now, it was 12.30am and you are curious to know if he had any shut eye. 

“You’re awake.” You say, and he turns his head to you with that smile of his. 

“I woke up just a little while ago, don’t worry.” He replies. 

You nod and you are unsure of what to say. Your last conversation before falling asleep was a heavy subject. 

“You know, I wished you lived in my time.” He jokes. 

“Why?”

“I-It’s hard to find people to talk to about all the stuff I wanna talk about. You know, they brush it off and are never really interested in it all.” He says, referring to earlier times when you let him speak extensively about all the spiritual books that he’s read and his questions about the universe, and the world in general. 

You are unsure how to respond, “I’m sorry. “ knowing that he always found it difficult to have someone to talk to about his interest, as everyone, even his closest friends laughed at him and didn’t really listen. 

“It gets so lonesome sometimes.” He continues, and you feel pain in your heart for him.

“And I ain’t stupid, you know. I know when a girl is pretending to be listening to me just because they want something else from me. But not you. And I don’t think it’s because it’s your job,” He shakes his head, “I think it’s just cause you are a good person. I can see that.” 

You smile, glad that he feels that way. 

“Thank you, Elvis. But you really are smarter than you give yourself credit for. Nothing you ever say can be too much or crazy.” You say to him, and he stands up and approaches you. 

He is silent, but his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes and your lips.

“Damn, how I wish I’d met you in my time.” He whispers, and then slowly you find him planting a kiss on your cheek. Your face heats up as he pulls away, and he is grinning at your flustered expression. 

Not long after, you receive a call from Francine that it’s time to meet back at the headquarters. You quickly change into your work uniform, grab your car keys and head out the door with Elvis. The drive back to the headquarters was quiet. 

Once entering, you immediately are greeted by Ashton, Colin and Francine. Francine tells you that she has decided that you join the team now in returning Elvis to his time period, after all, he’ll forget about this all anyway once you land there. Francine instructs you that to wipe his memory, you’ll have to wrap a bracelet around his wrist, which will make him fall into a slumber. Once he is asleep, the bracelet will shine green indicating that his memory from this event has been successfully removed, and you can then take off the bracelet. 

“Well, it was nice seeing 2023 even if it was short.” He says, grinning and then goes on to thank Francine. 

You were surprised at first on why Francine told you that Ashton won’t be coming on this trip. It will only be you, Elvis, and Colin. But Francine explained that Ashton opted out to get more rest, and besides, there’s only three seats in the time machine. Colin and Elvis went ahead on being seated and putting seatbelts on. 

This is when you pull Ashton aside, “You are the most energetic person I know, Are you okay?” You bombard him with questions. 

Ashton chuckles, “I’m more than okay, Y/N. “

“Then why did you-”

He leans over to your ear to whisper, “You are a huge fan of his. This will mean more to you than it will to me.”

You look at him in surprised, “Thank you.” You say to him sincerely. 

He simply smirks and ushers you to hurry, “Go, now. Before the machine leaves without you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It was quick. Next thing you know, you have landed. After regaining initial shock from being in the ‘70s, you feel yourself become upset at the prospect of saying goodbye to Elvis. You know that you have to do this. But from all the conversations you’ve had in such a short period of time, being that close to him - you wished it never ended. 

But it will now, because now you are both standing in his hotel suite. Colin already said his goodbyes, as he waited outside the door. 

“Quickest trip I’ve ever been on, a plane has nothing on that machine.” He jokes, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You simply chuckle. 

“So, this is the part where you’ll make me forget?” He confirms, eyes downcasted. 

You nod, “Yeah.”

He has already explained how the bracelet will work. 

“Do you have to?” He asks, voice soft and gentle and you almost want to say ‘No, I don’t want to.’

You smile a little at him, “You know I do. It’ll mess-”

“Mess history up, I know.”

Silence.

“What if you stay?”

How you wish it were that easy. 

You shake your head, “You know I can’t do that, Elvis.”

He sighs, knowing you are right. He belongs in this time and you belong in yours. It’s just such a cruel thing that the one person he feels connected to, more than anyone else, happens to be you - a girl very, very far away from him. He almost cursed at the universe on why it had to be this difficult. 

“Thank you for everything, Y/N. “ He finally says, as he takes a seat on his bed. 

“It was no problem at all. “ You say, words are suddenly hard to find. 

“Are you ready?” You ask, in which he nods and takes a deep breath. 

You place the bracelet around his wrist, and in a matter of seconds - his eyes close. You were quick to hold onto the back of his head, as you gently placed his head on the pillow. You then propped up his legs, so now that he was in a comfortable position as he sleeps. The bracelet turns green, and you remove it from him. 

Perhaps you didn’t realise it then, but now you do - tears spill from your eyes, slowly staining your cheeks. A whirlwind of emotions escape your heart - the last hours of being with him, and the reality of his ending. You wished you didn’t have to make him forget, in hopes that he’ll change his ways and live longer. But you knew you couldn’t do that. 

As you look at the raven-haired man in front of you, you gently leave a kiss on his cheek and whisper to him, “I’ll always remember you.” 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Elvis is awoken from his sleep by Jerry, who tells him that rehearsals start soon and he should get something to eat. But Jerry’s words escape Elvis’ focus. 

“E.P?” Jerry says, trying to catch his attention. 

“Yeah?” Elvis replies.

“You okay?” Jerry asks, worry evident on his face. 

Elvis furrows his eyebrows, “Yeah, I'm good. I just had this really strange dream, man.” 

“What dream?”

“Well, I can’t really tell if it was a dream. It was dark but there was this voice, a woman’s voice.” Elvis explains, his forehead knotted in confusion. 

Jerry wanted to ask if it may be his mother. 

But Elvis confirms that it’s certainly not, “It wasn’t my mama. No, this voice is different.” 

Jerry crosses his arms over his chest, “What was the voice saying?”

Elvis shakes his head and looks back at his friend, “She kept saying the same words over and over again.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll always remember you.” 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

It has been a few weeks now since Elvis returned to his time, and so you went back to your normal life. It was hard at first, trying to process the reality of everything that happened. You know it’s different now though whenever you listen to his music, a different kind of feeling. 

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that again?” You say into your phone. You were on the phone to your best friend, who was planning a surprise for their partner, and so he needed your help. Now he was saying the address to the surprise location, and you frantically were trying to find a piece of paper to jot down the address. 

You go through magazines and post-it notes filled with phone numbers and random lists written down. You finally find a small blank piece of paper, slipped in the very corner of one of the magazines on the coffee table. You click your pen and are ready to scribble down the address, but pause when you find out the paper isn’t exactly blank as you remove it from inside the magazine. 

Your eyes quickly trail off the words written, “Um sorry, can I call you back?” You say to your friend on the phone, in which he agrees and you both end the phone call. 

You gasp in disbelief because there on the paper was his handwriting. It read:

‘Thank you for listening and being there for me. You helped me more than you think, Y/N. Don’t forget me.’ E.P.

You were certain that it was his handwriting. You can’t believe it. There you were thinking that you’ll only have a memory of him, but now there is this. Something that you can treasure forever and you can’t help, but think that sometimes life has it’s way of gifting you small miracles. . . just in time. 

[presleypictures]

Elvis attending a Nancy Sinatra show at Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas – August 6, 1970.

[70sgroovy]

priscilla presley photographed by ron galella at her home in beverly hills, 1975

[arealtrashact]

You look lost...

[wanderingelvis]

hi girlie! love your work, please could you write about a reader that loves sex with ep but is still very innocent?

i hope you like it! thank you for requesting!

masterlist is here for more elvis fics takin' new elvis requests here

wc - 2.8k

warnings - SMUT, daddyk!nk, profanity, overstim, praisek!nk, innocencek!nk, all the usual stuff for me

Elvis was the one to expose you to a lot of your firsts. Your first kiss, your first time in Las Vegas, your first designer dress, your first sip of alcohol but most importantly, your first experience of sexual pleasure. 

Now, despite your innocence, even you knew that Elvis had been with many lovers and was well known for his abilities in the bedroom. Sure, it made you a little hesitant at first, a little scared that he would find someone more exciting and experienced than you and forget all about you. Actually, you were more than a little scared of that happening, you were terrified, you didn't even want to fall for Elvis because you never felt that you were worth the famous man's time or attention but oh Lord, you fell hard.

And you could tell straight away why so many people fell for him, when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through to your soul and out the other side again. It was like you were the only person in the world to him in that moment.

But when Elvis introduced you to the world of pleasure and sex, you couldn't get enough. You were nervous during your first times, so, so nervous and Elvis could tell. But he went slowly with you, praising you and cooing at you as you took all of him, even if it stretched your walls and made a few sweet, little tears trickle down your cheeks.

Elvis would always praise you and make it clear what he was doing too, never leaving you in the dark.

"M'gonna take off these pretty lil' panties now, little girl."

"Open them lips f'me doll, that's it, just like that, good." He would hiss.

"Daddy's gotchu, s'okay baby, yer likin' that ain't ya? S'okay, I know yer overstimulated. That's my girl."

"Yer takin' my fingers so well little one, that's right, you're doin' so good f'me. You like that dontchu dolly? Yeah? M'gonna add another finger, stretch out yer pretty lil' cunt, I know you can handle it baby."

And he'd delight in watching you get so worked up under him, writhing with pleasure and practically begging for more through whimpers and tears each time.

Yet still, that sweet naivety that clouded you never left. You were always still seeking Elvis' guidance and love and attention and that's when Elvis realised the gem that he had in you.

You'd gaze up at him with uncertainty, seeking reassurance with every move as he would teach you all the ways he enjoyed being pleasured and Elvis would have to stroke your pretty little head as he taught you how to give it.

You became obsessed with feeling pleasure from Elvis, you found yourself begging and mewling for it in the morning, whispering in Elvis' ear during the day asking for him to take you, and undressing yourself at the earliest opportunity in the evenings so that Elvis would have his way with you.

And he'd always chuckle at you fondly, adoring your sweet desperation. 

You didn't even know the names of the acts that the two of you were performing but it didn't matter, your head became fuzzier and fuzzier over time, your only goal was to feel the pleasure that Elvis gave you.

And it wasn't long before Elvis realised you were his naive little nymphomaniac.

You were sat in your regular spot in the International, watching Elvis perform. You just thought he was oh so magical, the way he sang, the way he moved and gyrated on stage, captivating you and the rest of the audience. You watched tiny beads of sweat drip down his tanned face onto the chest hairs that were exposed by the white jumpsuit he wore.

He'd look over at you, every now and then, sending you a wink to make sure you knew he remembered that you were the most important little girl in the audience and by the end of the show, that sweet desperation that had started to become an all too familiar feeling, was creeping its way in. 

And Elvis just loved to tease you. He practically relished in watching you whine and plead for his touch and his love, he just thought you were so sweet, especially when you still didn't understand half of what was going on, you just got so carried away. 

So, when you and Elvis finally made it back up to the hotel suite after the show, you were nothing short of desperate. See, Elvis had this thing where he was just so damn nice to everyone that after a show, he'd go around and thank everyone for their hard work, and whilst you loved that about him, you were growing needier and needier by the second.

Elvis knew you all too well though, he knew that he was dragging this out for his little desperate baby. In fact, he didn't just know, he enjoyed it. Elvis decided to drag out the process and turn you into his own needy little mess tonight.

"You look so pretty tonight baby, y'know that? Got all dressed up n'pretty f'me huh?" Elvis teased, lowering his head slightly to kiss the top of yours as his large hand traced your skimpy, sparkly dress that he'd bought for you, only three days before. 

You gulped and nodded quickly, smiling and letting out a giggle - he'd barely touched you and yet there you were all flustered. 

It was no surprise though that just a couple of loving words and a gentle touch from Elvis would send you spiralling each time he did it. You'd never experienced life the way that you had since Elvis came into it, before Elvis, you would attend your part time job, go to the library and do your studies. It was mundane, unexciting, and repetitive. Then, you met the most famous man in the entire world and everything changed, you had so many new experiences from spending hours in lavish boutiques, to dining next to the King of Rock n' Roll as you both sat in the crowd, watching Frank Sinatra singing. 

In all honesty, it was a life you were never prepared for, you still weren't adjusted to it all that well, that's why you clung to Elvis, he was like some form of security blanket for you, a protector of sorts that looked after you and cared for you. He knew you were new to everything so he would always take things slow with you, making sure that you were always okay and comfortable. 

He'd help alleviate the stress of the lifestyle change in lots of ways, for example, he would choose what you wore each day and how you did your hair and make up. Now, many people had called this controlling, but how were you, a girl that had never stepped foot on the Las Vegas strip, supposed to know what to wear to a casino and show? Elvis knew what would look good on you and what would be appropriate for each occasion because Elvis always knew what was best for you. He ended up knowing you better than you knew yourself.

The new world that surrounded you, Elvis' world, was intoxicating. You hardly ever had time to think straight or understand what was going on around you. 

But what you did know was that when Elvis touched you, you felt good, so you chased that feeling. 

"C-Can we, can we do the stuff?" You whispered, avoiding Elvis' gaze.

Elvis smirked, oh Lord you were just the most adorable little thing. "The stuff? Well baby, yer gon' have to use a couple more words than that." Elvis said with a dry chuckle, lighting up one of the Cuban cigars that Sammy Davis Jr had gifted him.

You sighed a little, a mix of desperation, impatience, frustration and embarrassment. "Can, c-can you, touch me?" You asked softly. "Please?" You squeaked, pleadingly.

"Oh Little One," Elvis hushed, causing a sweet whine to leave your lips. "Y'need me t'touch you huh baby?" Elvis teased as you nodded almost frantically with wide eyes, leading him to chuckle at your state. "Need me t'make you feel good hm?" Elvis said, his eyes growing dark in comparison to your wide, sparkly eyes.

"Uh-huh," You squeaked adorably, barely an inch between the two of you. 

God, Elvis could just devour you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he cupped your face in his large coarse hands, his left hand also holding his cigar between his fingers, the warm filler of it tinging the skin on your pink cheek, making you wince as you gazed up at him with eyes wider than a Disney princess.

"I ain't gon' touch you tonight honey, no, yer gon' do it all on yer own." Elvis whispered cooly, as you whined at the thought of not having him touch you, your eyes resembling that of a puppy dog as your desperation grew.

"What do you mean?" You murmured looking up at Elvis tentatively with a shaky voice as Elvis placed his large hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed where he set you down, moving you like you were his own little doll, but in many ways, that's exactly what you were.

"You're so needy Little One, yer gon' have t'learn how to pleasure yerself baby," Elvis teased, facing you as you sat upright, letting his hands roam up your sides as your body trembled in his hold.

You chewed on your lip cutely, "Are you not gon' touch me at all?" You asked, your head tilting.

"No honey, y'gotta learn how to touch yerself, yer gon' touch yerself f'me okay baby?" Elvis instructed and you nodded despite feeling apprehensive. "Good girl." Elvis praised. "All I'm gon' do is get you undressed so I can watch all of you as you play with your lil' pussy."

You shivered as Elvis' coarse hands shimmied your dress up, exposing your white panties that already had a wet patch that was making the fabric sheer and translucent, letting Elvis see the pretty pink flesh that was so needy. 

"Let's get these cute lil' panties off baby, looks like y'need them off." Elvis chuckled making you blush. "Oh baby, m'only teasin." Elvis said, soothing you as he dragged the damp panties over your legs, letting them pool at your feet as he grabbed each leg and helped untangle them from you, all the while being careful not to singe your skin with the burning cigar that he took a puff from every now and then. "Atta girl." He cooed. "Now, pretty girl, spread them legs f'me." Elvis instructed and you did exactly what you were told, gazing at him intently.

Elvis really had taken over your entire life, you basically worshipped the man. Sure, there was a noticeable age difference and there was a definite power imbalance but as much as you worshipped him, Elvis treated you like you were the most delicate, precious thing in his life.

Despite Elvis having all the power, he could practically feel his old men knees buckle whenever you would lie there on the mattress, staring up at him adoringly with those wide eyes full of curiosity and love. Your plump, glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you studied all of Elvis' movements as he took your tender wrist in his large hand, guiding your hand to your slick coated cunt.

Your breathing was shaky at best, your chest rising and falling ever so erratically, making Elvis smirk at how nervous you were, even though he knew how much you needed to be satisfied.

Slowly, he directed his hand over yours, making your soft, small fingers fondle your soaked folds, your slick leaking from your pussy as your fingers traced up and down your slit. 

Your gaze wandered back and forth between Elvis and what was happening 'down there', the curiosity and nervousness getting the better for you as you let out soft gasps and mewls at yours and Elvis' actions.

"Keep going." Elvis commanded, removing his hand from yours, letting you continue on with the motions as you began to pleasure yourself in front of the old man. "Tell me how it feels honey."  Elvis said, his voice emotionless as his eyes darkened on you as you squirmed about.

You blinked hazily, your mind becoming a mess, your attention becoming divided by the overwhelming sense of pleasure and the God of a man that stood at the end of the bed, towering over you, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

Only a single, small lamp illuminated the room in a dull, dark pink tone, the rest of the light coming from the Las Vegas strip, the bright lights reflecting into Elvis' suite, letting Elvis see the silouhette and highlights of your body as you let your fingers rub around your clit in circular motions, eliciting soft whines from you.

"Feels so... feels so nice." You sighed lazily, moving your hips in a pathetic attempt to create more pressure between you and your own hand - but Elvis could only find it adorable how desperate you were. "B-But," You said through breathy whimpers. "Want you."

Elvis smirked, a slight chuckle leaving him, one that had an almost sadistic tone to it as he walked to a chair opposite the bed and sat in it, taking a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke cloud him as he stared at you.

"Not tonight little girl. Yer gon' keep going until yer learn how to make yerself cum like a good girl." Elvis hissed, causing you to whine at his denial. "Tell me what yer gon' learn, I want to hear you say it." Elvis softly demanded.

"Gonna, gonna," You whined, trying to do as you're told all the while touching your cunt. "Learn how t'make myself cum." You recited, your mind becoming hazy and the pace of your fingers quickening.

"Why?" Elvis teased, enjoying watching you battle with yourself, as he made you have to think whilst he knew that all you wanted to do was mindlessly pleasure yourself.

"Good girl, m'a good girl." You whimpered, your eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"That's right baby." Elvis praised, taking a drag from his cigar, never letting his eyes leave your body. "Put your fingers in your pussy for Daddy." Elvis instructed firmly - almost coldly.

You blinked at him, pausing your motions to silently confirm what he had said to you.

"Now." Elvis growled and you nodded tearily, pushing two fingers into your soaked hole, whimpers leaving your lips as your pink cheeks felt tears trickling down them from the sensations and the experience.

"You've never fingered yerself, pretty girl?" Elvis asked, watching your trepidation and jolted movements, he could tell you were experienced from the smallest of things.

All you could manage was a shake of your head as it rested on the mattress, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you let your fingers pump in and out of your pink pussy - and if your cheeks weren't already pink enough, Elvis would've seen a blush creeping onto your face at the question.

You cry out adorably from the pleasuring feeling, as you practically hump your own fingers, not noticing that Elvis is now palming the large bulge in his pants.

Oh, how he loved to be the one to corrupt you like this.

"Faster." Elvis demanded before you stared at him with nerves and apprehension in your eyes. "Don't you want to be my good girl?" Elvis teased, exploiting your desire for praise.

You nodded feverishly, tossing your head back onto the mattress as you let your fingers tease your hole at a quicker pace, slipping through your walls, your own slick acting as lube.

"Look at you, so needy, doin' such a good job of playing with your cunt and puttin' on a show fr' Daddy." Elvis praised, knowing his words would send you spiralling.

And he didn't stop, urging you on with gentle commands, praises and downright filthy comments as he got off to you masturbating for the first time.

"Such a needy puppy, ain't ya? That's it, doin' such a good job baby."

"Yer such a pretty sight fr' Daddy, fuckin' yerself with those fingers baby, it's okay, you can go faster, you can do it."

"Just breathe baby, y'can fit in another, I know that pretty pussy of yours can handle it. Good girl, that's it."

"Feelin' good huh? Gon' touch yerself when I'm on stage huh? Yer cunt that desperate huh kid?"

Elvis continued teasing and praising you, talking you through your first orgasm from your own masturbation, your mewls turning into full-blown cries before your body collapsed, and you lethargically pulled your fingers from your glistening, wrecked cunt.

You pushed yourself up and blinked adorably, looking at the wet patches on the silk bedding before you shyly looked up at Elvis.

"M'sorry, I made a mess on your sheets." You whimpered, still feeling overwhelmed and extra-sensitive, sniffling as you wiped away a stray tear.

Elvis couldn't help but smirk at the adorable sight in front of him.

You, the love and light of his life, a naked, flustered, soaked mess on his silk bed sheets, your chest rising and falling erratically as you came down from your self-inflicted high.

"Uh-uh, ain't nothin' t'be sorry about baby." Elvis cooed and he watched relief wash over you as you offered him the goofiest, sweetest smile at the reassurance and Elvis felt his both his heart and cock jump.

How had he been so lucky to have such a sweet, little, naive nymphomaniac such as you?

[vintage-tigre]

[thepoeticall]

[lustnhim]

dilf vibes elvis 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[powerofelvis]

Fire And Desire

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1K 

Summary: While in Vegas with Elvis, he seems to be more demanding of you to stay inside. However, with your fiery personality, that proves to be much more harder to do. This leads to Elvis taking matters into his own hands. 

Warnings: dom!elvis, 68-70's era!elvis, smut, unprotected sex, spanking kink, Elvis being a demanding and bossy little shit, Elvis' temper being shown, reader being disobedient, fluff 

A/N: This is a request for my darlin' Christi @ab4eva! Christi, my darling, I hope this is what you asked for. Although he doesn't seem to be as demanding and bossy as he liked, I think that he did a great job with demanding and bossing the reader around a bit. Not to mention, his temper is something to not mess around with. I hope everyone enjoys this fic as well. 

prompts.

Elvis was under a tremendous amount of stress, with his upcoming engagement at the Las Vegas Hilton only a few days away. You could admit that you weren’t helping the fact that he was trying to navigate getting his career back on track due to the failure of his acting career. The engagement required the people in his circle to be on their A game and that also included you, being in his corner. However, you were so starstruck by being in Vegas that you could care less about anything else. You wanted to sightsee as much as you could, because once you were back in Memphis, you wouldn’t be able to return again. Elvis had a very short temper and you knew that, but he tended to be a little bit more patient with you.

“Baby, you can’t just roam around Vegas without some protection, ya ought’ ta know that.” Elvis spoke after you asked him if you could go out to see some of the sights, opting out of being stuck at the Hilton. “I’m a big girl, Elvis. I can handle myself.” You wrapped your arms around his waist as he shook his head, huffing at the notion that this was one conversation that would happen more than once. “Now, listen damnit. You’re not going out alone! We ain’t havin’ this conversation again, ya hear?” Elvis gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched as he pushed you down on the bed. This was the first time of the many that he would turn down your idea, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. 

While Elvis was away for rehearsals, you were stuck in the penthouse with nothing to do. You tried to keep yourself busy, skimming through magazines and pacing the floor, looking out of the window at the bustling city below. You couldn’t stay still, not wanting to be cooped up in the hotel while Elvis was off having the time of his life. So it was then, that you decided that you would sneak off to have your own fun. You stepped out of the suite, holding your purse in your hands as you made your way to the elevator. You pressed the elevator button, tugging at your dress to ensure that it was in place as you waited for the car to make its way to you. As the doors opened, your heart jumped into your chest at the sight of your father in law, Vernon. 

“Where are ya going in such a hurry, girl?” He chuckled, stepping aside to let you into the car. “I’m going down to the casino, I already told Elvis that I would spend some time at the slots.” Lies. Nothing but lies. Vernon watched you intensely, looking for any indication that you were telling the truth before smiling softly in your direction. “Well, make sure you’re careful. You know how Elvis is when you’re not careful.” He chuckled as he stepped off of the elevator, shooting a hand up in a slight wave before the doors closed. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Vernon didn’t ask many questions because you weren’t sure if you could have kept up the lie much longer. 

The elevator made its way to the lobby floor, your feet picking up briskly as you raced out of the hotel. The breeze from the Vegas weather filled your lungs as you took in a deep breath, reaching into your purse to put a pair of sunglasses over your eyes as you walked down the busy streets. Vegas was much more beautiful than you even realized, your eyes roaming every patron that lined the streets. You had a limited amount of time, knowing that Elvis would be done with rehearsals before the sun fully set. So, you decided that you would do some window shopping while taking in the sights before you would head back to the hotel. While you were out, you didn’t know that Elvis would end rehearsals a bit earlier because he knew how much you wanted to have a few nights to see Vegas in all that it had to offer. 

Elvis made his way back up to the penthouse, a smile on his face as he was excited to share his plans with you. He opened the door to his suite, that smile wiping off of his face as he noticed that you were nowhere in sight. His daddy was in the suite, going through documents that he needed to show the colonel but you weren’t anywhere in the rooms. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched once again as he pressed his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “Daddy, where is Y/N?” He spoke, the tone of his voice was borderline tense as he placed his hands on his hips. “I saw her when I was getting off of the elevator. She said that she was headin’ to the casino, she said that you said that she could.” Vernon looked confused, not quite understanding why his son was pent-up. 

“She never told me she was going to the casino. God damnit, daddy. She lied.” Elvis turned to head out of the door, stomping to the elevator. You had better hope that you were in the casino when he found you, because if not, you were in deep trouble. He didn’t like being demanding towards you, but he knew that if he didn’t keep you under his line of view, you would get yourself into trouble. He made his way into the casino, not leaving one stone unturned as he searched for you. The more time that passed that he didn’t see you, the angrier that he became. You weren’t in the damn casino and he knew that you wouldn’t magically appear. The anger that bubbled deep within his body was soon joined by fear because he didn’t know where you were. 

“Elvis! What are you doing down here? What are you doing?” Joe pulled Elvis to the side as he noticed that people were starting to take notice of him pacing the casino’s floors. “I’m lookin’ for Y/N! That little girl ran out and I don’t know where she is.” He roared as he stomped out of the casino, his eyes searching the lobby for any indication that you would walk through the doors. “I’m sure Y/N went out to sightsee on her own, you know how strong-willed she is, she should be back soon. She knows to be back before you get out of rehearsals.” He chuckled, quickly shutting his mouth as he noticed that Elvis was not seething with rage. “God damnit, Joe. Where is everyone? Why isn’t anyone with her?” He rambled on as he pressed the button to the elevator to head back up to the penthouse suite. 

“Everyone is busy trying to make sure that the colonel stays off of their ass. You know how he is when it comes to show business.” Joe muttered as he followed Elvis on the elevator car, pressing his fingers to his lips as he knew that Elvis couldn’t care less about the show right now. However, Joe knew that he had to keep Elvis from tearing up the hotel while he was looking for you. “Just wait in the suite, she will be back soon.” Joe replied as he stepped off of the elevator as it reached his floor. “She damn well had better, I don’t know she continues to defy me. I swear to god, this woman.” He grumbled as he decided that it was better to wait for you in the suite, knowing that you would be back soon. When you returned, you had best bet that you were in for a world of trouble, Elvis would see to it. 

You decided that you had your fair share of sightseeing for the day, deciding that you would return back to the hotel before Elvis noticed that you were gone. You made your way back to the Hilton, a smile on your face as you walked through the lobby. You pulled your sunglasses off of your face, placing it back into your purse as your finger pressed on the elevator button. As the elevator opened, you stepped inside but a dread filled your stomach as you neared the penthouse. You didn’t know what was wrong, but you pushed it away as you figured that you were just overthinking things. You walked up to the door, stepping inside quietly before closing it shut behind you. It was slightly quiet, which you figured it was because Elvis hadn’t returned yet. 

You stopped dead in your tracks as you saw Elvis sitting in the loveseat that was in your view. His electric blues burned a hole into your form standing in the foyer, his jaw clenched as he held on tightly to the armrest. “Fancy to see you here, Y/N. Where in the hell have ya been?” He gritted out, his hands squeezing tighter to the armrests before he stood up, balling up his fists. “I-,” You began to speak before he cut you off. “I know ya didn’t fuckin’ go to the casino, Y/N. Daddy already told me what you told him.” He spoke calmly, trying to keep his temper at bay, but you knew that he was seconds away from blowing his top. “I went out.” You whispered under your breath, eyes trained on the floor. “Out where! Where did ya go, little girl?!” He raised his voice as he stomped over to you, grabbing you by the arm. 

“Elvis, I couldn’t stand being stuck in the penthouse all day. I went out. That’s it.” You tugged your arm from his grip, placing your purse down on the couch before brushing past him. Suddenly, you heard an animalistic roar, turning around to see Elvis following you before picking you up before placing you over his shoulder. You beat against his back, yelling at him to place you down before he tossed you on the bed. “How many times do I have to tell ya that it’s not safe to be out on your own, hm? You never fuckin’ listen to me. You wonder why I’m always so demanding and fuckin’ bossy. It’s because you’re fuckin’ doin’ my damn head in.” He grumbled as he yanked you up by your arm before placing you over his knee. 

“Elvis, what are you doing?! Let me go!” You screeched out, squirming as you tried to get out of his hold, feeling his hand pulling your dress up over your ass. “This is what happens when little girls don’t listen to their daddy!” The burning sensation suddenly consumed you as Elvis’ hand landed across your cheeks repeatedly. He was spanking you, the punishment that you were given because you disobeyed him. “I swear, you are never satisfied until I’m punishin’ ya. You’re such a disobedient little bitch.” He spat as his hand continued to slap down on your ass, your legs rubbing together as the feeling caused juices to pour out of you. You bit down on your lips, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to keep the moans at bay. 

It was hard, little whimpers passing your lips as the feeling of his hand coming down against your ass was satisfying. “And look at ya, fuckin’ enjoying Daddy punishing ya.” He spat as he pushed you off from his lap, spreading your legs as he eyed the moisture that was forming in your panties. “Fuckin’ keep those legs open, little girl. I wanna see how wet ya got from me spankin’ ya.” He spat out, demanding you to follow every direction that he gave to you. You whimpered out as you nodded your head, not wanting to upset him further. Elvis grunted under his breath as he hooked his fingers into the band of your panties before pulling them off of your legs. You hissed at the coolness of the room, shutting your eyes as you waited for what he had waiting for you. 

SMACK. Your eyes opened immediately as his hand smacked across your pussy, moans passing your lips as you eyed him in disbelief. “Elvis!” You shouted out, moans passing your lips as he slapped your pussy a few more times, each time, his hand becoming covered with your juices. “Shut your mouth, little girl. The next time you speak is when I tell ya that you can speak.” He gritted out, sliding his finger against your vulva lips, collecting as much of your juices as he could. He pulled his finger up, eyeing the glistening of the digit before he looked down to you. “You should be ashamed, gettin’ off to your man slapping yer pussy.” He spat out before sliding the same digit inside of you, dragging it against your walls. You hummed out in pleasure, grinding your hips against his finger as it pushed deeper inside. 

“Did I tell ya that you could move?” He removed his finger, eliciting a groan from you as you shook your head. “No, daddy. I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, biting down on your lip as you pushed your hips back down on the bed. Elvis stepped away from you, fiddling with his belt as he pulled it from the loops of his trousers, his darkened eyes glaring into you before he threw the belt on the floor. He popped open the button of his pants, unzipping the zipper before pushing them off of his body, his hardened length pressing against his stomach before he climbed on top of you. “You’re already ready for me, there’s nothin’ left to do but to pleasure myself since ya wanna disobey me.” He whispered in the shell of your ear as he pushed your thighs further apart. 

He plunged deep inside of you, filling you to the hilt as groans passed his lips. He didn’t give it any time for you to stretch around him as he furiously pounded inside of you. You could feel the anger burning off of him as he rutted on top of you. Moans passed from your lips as you dug your nails into his biceps, throwing your head back from the pleasure of him sliding deep inside of you. “Look. At. That. You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well and I didn’t have to prepare ya for it.” He hissed as his balls slapped against your ass, grunts passing his lips as he continued his assault on your pussy. You hissed as the tip of his cock rubbed against your cervix, your nails digging deeper into his bicep as you created crescents into his skin. 

Incoherent moans passed from your lips as the thought of Elvis’ temper turned you on further. You knew that his temper was something to be fearful of, but you also knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you. Even though he was angry that you disobeyed him, he held back the rage that he was feeling as he pounded his anger away. “I should keep you locked up in here, maybe then you’ll understand that I mean business.” He grunted into your ear as he pulled out of you, pushing you over onto your stomach before he plunged back into you deeply. He wrapped his fingers around the strands of your hair as he pulled you closer to him, his hips pushing deeper inside of you. “I should punish ya for the hell of it, lord knows you’re always doin’ something.” Elvis chuckled as his eyes stared deep into yours, shivers passing through your body as you returned his gaze. 

“Are ya gonna keep disobeyin’ daddy? When I tell ya somethin’, I mean it. Answer me, little girl.” He spat out as you nodded your head. “No, daddy. I won’t disobey you again. Please, I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered out, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook. You could feel the juices pooling down your thighs as your pussy clenched around his cock as he grinded into you. Elvis wasn’t far behind you, roaring out as he filled you full of his cum. He let go of your hair, your body falling on the mattress before you as you whimpered from the feeling of his warm seed coating your walls. Elvis pulled out of you, smirking as his cum seeped out of your pussy. His finger scooped up the sticky substance before he shoved it into your mouth. “Suck me clean, little girl.” He spoke in a firm tone, watching as your lips wrapped around the digit, sucking the substance off. 

He patted your ass softly before turning you over, pulling you up by your arms. “I hate to do that, mama. I hate bein’ rough with ya; but I need ya to understand that when I’m bein’ demanding and bossy, it’s because I want what’s best for ya.” He pulled you into his arms as you smiled up at him. “I know, daddy. But, I loved it. I won’t leave without your permission again, I promise.” You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest. “Did ya have fun out today at least?” Elvis whispered, looking down at you before pressing a little kiss to your forehead. “I did, but it was much better when I came back to you.” You replied, shutting your eyes as you laid in his arms. “I left rehearsal early because I wanted to take ya out tonight. We still can, ya know? Maybe, a little dinner?” He spoke, hopeful that you still wanted to have some time out. 

“Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I want to have a night out with the man that I love?” You tilted your head up to look at him. Elvis returned your glance, a smirk crossing his lips as he placed his finger under your chin to still your gaze. “Well, why don’t you go get ready. Leave the panties off.” He spoke firmly, a fire burning in his eyes as he bit down on his lip. He could get used to bossing you around a little, seeing that you adored when he did so. “Yes, daddy. I’ll go get ready now.” You beamed as you untangled your body from him as you skipped into the bathroom. Elvis was definitely not tense anymore, the night ahead had unquestionably changed his mood. He knew that you kept him on his toes and even though he would get too demanding or too bossy, he knew that he had you to keep his head on straight. Maybe, he should ease the reins a bit on you. After all, Elvis had nothing to worry about, especially not when he had you by his side. 

Taglist: @lindszeppelin @loving-elvis @lovininapinkcadillac @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @softsatnin @precious-little-scoundrel @presleyenterprise @presleysdarling @generoustreemystic @afterlovingelvis @ab4eva @elvisabutler @elvis-bucket-hat @cryingabtab @luluthesandgoose @plasticfantasticl0ver @prayerstopresley @flwrs4aust @rosaminny @elvisshowusyourpelvis @rjmartin11 @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @flowersofcement @arianatheangel-girl @troubleinapinksuit @vintageshanny @crash-and-cure @literally-just-elvis-fics @venus-haze @foreverdolly @mixtapemasterjipc @coolgirl462 @galaxygirl453 @beeandheroddobsessions @dre6ming @dkayfixates @dhimpson1 @kaitaesupremacy @babyhoneypresley @burninlovebutler @samfangirls @succsessions @oh-my-front-door @oh-kurva @stitchattacks @rainydayz101 @ep-supremacy

[monajoon16]

1970s Elvis is my soulmate

[luvend3r]

manifesting a wayamaya summer <3

[presleypictures]

Elvis performing at the Forum, Los Angeles, CA – May 11, 1974.

Three members of Led Zeppelin (Plant, Page and Bonham) attended Elvis' evening show with their manager. After a shaky start on Funny How Time Slips Away, Elvis stopped the song and jokingly said: 'Wait a minute... If we can start together fellas, because we've got Led Zeppelin out there... let's try to look like we know what we're doing, whether we do or not'. The show was taped and released on record under the name “Live in L.A.”

[miss-daytona24]

[cleopatragirlie]

❀ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞, 𝐁𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 (𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟒) ❀