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elvisabutler · 2 years

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gunmetal

summary: elvis loves his guns. you think he loves you. question is are those mutually exclusive. fandom: elvis presley | elvis 2022 pairing: elvis presley x female reader rating: m word count: 3328 not even remotely talking about it. it happened alright? warnings: gun kink. elvis's sexual issues. minor implied food kink maybe? use of a gun in penetrative ways. masturbation ( m and f ). implied future oral ( f ). older/later elvis described/implied. ( i'm not meaning that in a warning re: weight, it's more i do know that some would prefer to not interact with elvis as he was toward the end of his life in ways that are sexual ). minor daddy kink, as in reader calls elvis daddy and he refers himself as daddy. it's not super in your face. minor mommy kink on elvis's part. also unhealthy bdsm practices because you know, no one in this is necessarily fully sober/in good states of mind. just really y'all, this is a...ride. also thigh riding and squirting. author's note: okay. so let me explain myself. this gif is not indicative of the exact time frame for elvis i chose for this though have at it, pick austin elvis and 73ish as ya man here if you want. i definitely did not. so. i read a set of fics that had kinks i don't have in the slightest because i was curious ( because i've been in fandom/the internet too long and i look at dead dove don't eat on some fics and think it's a challenge ) and i faintly regret my choices with it. but it made me basically be like jimmie where i say things like "i don't know what i'm thinking". said fic set has wormed its way into my brain where it lives and tosses me like two pennies and a bit of lint for rent. this is the bit of lint. i am sorry for this. if y'all actually want another gun kink fic from me, i'll probably write it come november but i wanted to do something different with this. i don't know what this is. when i said unhinged, i didn't necessarily mean sexy. watch this be accidentally sexy. also hi, yeah this is day 13 of kinktober, gun kink with elvis. and yes i have had to edit this three times.

Elvis- You love Elvis. God help you and saints preserve you, but you love him. You love him enough that you forget how he can be, how you forget how he slowly is becoming a version of him that you're not sure you want to be with. He's possessive and mercurial on his best days, possessive and terrifying on his worst. Priscilla had warned you, Linda had warned you, they had both told you that Elvis takes and takes and takes and while he gives and gives and gives it's complicated. It's maybe never what you need.

You're giving though, you're the type of girl Elvis needs right now. Someone to keep him in check, to try and slide him into something inching toward health even as his body wants to rebel against him.

But Elvis takes, Elvis has desires that he'd keep unspoken for some girls. But Priscilla took it, Linda took it- his true girls- his girls he wanted to keep would take it. Would take what he wanted to give them. Elvis likes to combine the things he loves into something he figures is better than the two things apart. It's with his food, his music and truthfully his needs and wants in the bedroom. You're his girl and they're his girls and the values them more anything in the world other than little Lisa. They even outrank you and you know it. Girls may come and go but Elvis's guns? Oh those girls are forever, his personal harem to pick and choose from and keep close.

Elvis doesn't sleep well after shows, everyone has told you that from the second you said hello and he said ain't you the prettiest thing this side of the Mississippi. You are always riled up after shows, always a squirming mess he carts off to the bedroom the second he gets to the hotel. Some nights- like this particular night he's not up to the task of fucking you. A sign of his age, maybe a sign of how his body wants to betray him at the one thing he enjoys as much as- well as much he knows things are twisted in his head. He is hungry after the shows though and after this particular show he's got you in his lap, on one of his thighs, your body bouncing and grinding as you use its substantial size to provide pressure to your clit, to your cunt to every part of your body in between your legs. You're facing him and occasionally your hands drift down to his stomach, wanting to feel it, wanting to feel his chest and every part of him. He always gives you a look over his glasses before moving your hand back up to his arm. He can see your face starting to twist like he knows it does when you're heading toward your release, he's impressed tonight. Normally you require his fingers on your clit or pinching at your nipples. Maybe these big thighs were good for something, tonight.

"Make a mess of your Daddy, darlin'. Stain the jumpsuit, hm?" He murmurs into your ear before feeling you shudder against him, your body taking his words to be a command. He places a light kiss against your neck. You find that it feels sticky.

"Are you-" You start and pause, eyeing Elvis, watching him stare at you with those eyes that if nothing else- if all else fails him- would draw in even the strongest of individuals. "Do I need to help you?"

He hums before exhaling, shifting his body to get a little more comfortable on the chair he's sitting in. "Depends on your answer to my question."

"What is it?" You're genuinely curious, Elvis's eyes seem a little brighter today and you have hope tonight might be a good night for both of you.

His hands move to cup your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss. You have to climb up onto him a little from your position but you find you don't mind. From his pleased hum you can feel vibrate against your body you figure he doesn't mind either.

"I wanna see you play with my guns. One of my favorites. I'll take the ammo and everything out just for tonight." He can already picture it, picture you on the bed, him in this chair, his cock in his hand and you- and you on your shared hotel bed writhing as you brushed your clit against the metal. "'m not feeling up to fuckin' ya tonight, but I wanna come watching ya."

You force a smile on your face, it's not that you don't want to do it- it's a strange request, but not unwelcome- it's just you had hoped it would not be a take take take night and instead be a give give give night. "Which one, daddy?" You added daddy to see him smile.

It works.

He chose one with a long barrel, whispering as your ground your ass against him that it was to give you the length he knew you craved. Sure, you enjoyed his girth in more ways than one but sometimes it was just the length you needed. His pajama pants are down by his ankles as he settles into the chair and you allow your fingers to play with yourself, slowly getting yourself prepared for what you're going to do. You're always a little more wet than normal when you have Elvis watching you and tonight is surprisingly no exception. You never used to be like this, never used to be turned on at the thought of someone watching you but Elvis has a way of turning things you thought you knew about yourself on its head. His eyes are zeroed in on your cunt, watching your fingers disappear in and out, glistening ever so slightly with your juices and he can't help the low groan he lets out at it, his hand moving to lazily stroke his cock. Yes, he'd like to get off watching you on his gun, watching you come all over it like you did his thigh not even an hour before, like you have on his cock but he's not in a rush. Next show isn't even for another few days, so if he wants he could lay you out on this bed like the buffet you are and take his time savoring every last morsel and drop of you.

"What are you looking at?" You whisper a little breathlessly, two of your fingers teasing your clit like Elvis had many times before.

"You." He answers simply, his thumb brushing over his tip. "Watchin' how you're preppin' yourself. Thinkin' I oughta help, but there's somethin' about watching ya."

Your lips curl into a lazy smile. "You're always- You know I love it when you do. Maybe tomorrow morning you can play with me like this? Spread my pretty lips open and taste me. Maybe there will be a hint of the metal."

If a growl leaves his throat, if a growl leaves his throat and has him sounding like his Harley revving up, you and him don't comment on it. "Don't be a tease, baby. Think you might be prepped enough. It's thinner than me, 'member that."

You hum before letting out a heavy and mildly overexaggerated sigh. "I guess you're right." Your hand encircles the grip of gun, noting how cold it is with a shiver. Your eyes look up at Elvis before you tilt your head and drag the barrel across your skin, starting from your neck and moving down to your chest, letting the cool metal brush against your overheated skin. "It's cold."

He gulps as he pumps his cock, watching how your npples pebble after the barrel swipes by them. If he could, if he wanted to get up from this chair, he's walk over to you and warm them up, take your nipples in his mouth and suck on them, bite at them, watch you keen and writhe against him. He won't though, because he just wants to watch you.

When you finally reach your cunt, you practically jump at the first brush of the metal against your cunt. You think maybe you should have sucked on it first, given it some warmth before you had it touch you, but it was too late for that. You take a deep breath and look at Elvis unblinking as you slowly shove the barrel of the gun into your cunt. If you were closer to him you'd likely see how the blue of his eyes is completely taken over by the black of his pupil, you'd see how his mouth has dried out from the small pants he can't stop himself from taking and you'd notice how he looks- he looks like he does onstage. He looks completely full of life and ready to strike at the one person he has in his gaze. You.

His breath is shallow the longer he looks, the longer he looks and pumps himself, the precum covering his cock, his jar of lube unused for him. "Goddamn, little one, you should see- drive a man wild, fucking yourself on his gun. Gonna smell like you, won't be able to be at the range without remembering you- won't be able to shoot it without remembering this. Gonna have to explain to the boys why I popped a boner like a fuckin' teenager."

You huff out a laugh, your body letting out a shiver as it tries to adjust to the intrusion of something you're not used to. "Don't wear such tight pants and they won't know. Is this going to be your new favorite?"

He nods. "Gonna have it tucked in somewhere every damn show. Maybe it'll be a good luck charm."

A good luck charm for you and him, a sign that you two will last like him and 'Cilla didn't, like him and Linda didn't. You did this for him, they didn't, they had- your limits are always far more malleable than theirs were. Not a bad thing but it give him some hope.

You pull the barrel out of your cunt and press it against your swollen clit, hissing as you do. "Christ, Daddy, I didn't realize I'd be so sensitive. I'm- how close are you?"

You want to come, but he hasn't and you refuse to be that greedy, not for him right now. Not for him when he's having a good night, not a great night, but a good one and you want to savor it. If you're trying not to move the gun, letting the barrel stay pressed against your clit in order to stave off your impeding orgasm he doesn't say anything.

His hand moves faster, knowing that he is pretty close, he wants to come for you, wants to show you what you've done to him, how you've made him feel. "Talk me through it, Mama."

Your eyes had slipped closed as you lost yourself in the sensations of the metal, the smell of your arousal and sex in the room, the taste of what Elvis had been eating earlier lingering on your tongue. Your eyes had been closed but they shoot open at the word Mama. He was- oh, he was in that sort of mood. Oh, you could oblige.

"Talk you through it, sweetheart? Talk you through how Mama wants to see you come? I worked hard, I took your gun for you. Would have taken it all night for you but your thigh- You let Mama come on your thigh earlier, she doesn't have that many in her tonight." Your voice is practically a murmur but you know Elvis can hear you, can hear how you sound how your voice has an edge of neediness. "I need you to come so I can, sweetheart. You don't need to wait. The sooner you do it, the sooner we can clean up and we can go to sleep. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us taking care of each other like that tonight. You did good tonight, just like I did. Come for Mama, Elvis, show me how much you appreciate me."

That does it, you asking him to show how much he appreciates you doing this, how much he appreciates you in his life. He comes with a groan, coating his hand and the towel he had put underneath him with his come. He doesn't say anything, doesn't have the energy to, his head lulling to the side a little as he watches you finally move the gun, finally allow it to press against your clit- rub against your clit in a way that has you shivering. You're close and you know that you could likely come without the penetration, you should come without it, but you decide at the last second to slide the gun barrel back inside you as you flutter around it, coming with a hiss because everything is so overwhelming that your throat can't even manage anything else. When you pull the gun out it's covered in your fluids, glistening in the light of the room. You look at the sheets and realize you might have squirted. A bit of shame twists in your gut at that, because this what what made you squirt? Fucking yourself on your boyfriend's gun? What kind of woman were you? Elvis still hasn't gotten up from the chair, his eyes lazily moving between you, the gun and the wet spot. His lips curl into a smirk.

"Ruined the sheets and my jumpsuit. Ain't you a menace to fabrics." He whispers as you stand up and move towards him. You stop and hold out your hand to pull him up from the chair. He eyes it and shakes his head. You keep it there until he takes it with a huff, stepping completely out of his pants as he does.

"I'm your menace, Elvis. Shower?" You hold his hand, linking your fingers together as you lead him to the bathroom.

"Then bed. Gonna let me lay on ya chest tonight?" He asks, pulling you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you like he's that teddy bear he sang about almost two decades ago.

"If it helps you sleep tonight, yeah." A pause. "Love you."

A low hum and a kiss to your temple is the only answer you get back. You'll take it for now.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #i very specifically did not include a lot of tags in this.#i am.#i really did almost just hide this on my ao3.#ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes #i don't know what this fic even is i truly don't.#WHY I WROTE THIS FOR KINKTOBER I WILL NOT UNDERSTAND.#also no i didn't have an oops when i copy and pasted why do y'all ask.

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