#elvis presley fluff

[starryschoolgirl]

Good Husbandry

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

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

WC -> 7.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are ya readin' Honey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s husbandry?”

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

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

“Like farmers do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was gentle as Elvis always was.

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

He pulled away, lips and hands.

“Lay down Baby”

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

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

“W-What are you doing?”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elvis?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...cause it’s special”

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

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

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

“Are ya ready Babylove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here it come Baby, here it come”

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

"I-I am relaxed"

“No ya not Babylove”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.

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

“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”

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

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

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

“It- I- It’s-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[drtyelvisfantasy]

𝒪𝓃ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓅 𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ

Pairings: Elvis Presley x female!reader

Summary: The reader who is Elvis Presley’s wife wakes up to see her husband teaching their baby son Jesse how to walk🥹

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

The sun peeked through the curtains of Graceland, casting a warm glow over the room. You found yourself in the presence of the King himself, Elvis Presley. Your heart fluttered as you watched him, his mesmerizing voice filling the air as he strummed his guitar effortlessly. It was a rare, intimate moment you had the privilege of witnessing.

As you stood by the doorway, you saw Elvis glance towards the crib tucked in the corner of the room. A smile crept across his face as he noticed his baby son, Jesse, starting to stir. Gently setting his guitar aside, Elvis approached the crib, his eyes filled with adoration.

"Hey there, little man," Elvis cooed, his voice soft and melodic. "Ready to show Daddy those fancy moves of yours?"

Jesse giggled in response, his chubby arms reaching out towards his father. Elvis scooped his little boy up into his arms, cradling him securely against his chest. The room seemed to come alive with the sound of their laughter, a symphony of love.

With careful steps, Elvis carried Jesse to the center of the room, creating a safe space for their adventure. He positioned Jesse's tiny feet on the wooden floor, supporting his wobbly legs with his hands.

"Alright, Jesse, it's time to show Daddy how you can walk," Elvis encouraged, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "You've got the rhythm in your blood, just like your old man."

As if on cue, the room filled with the sound of Elvis singing softly, his voice guiding Jesse's every movement. With each step, Elvis matched their strides, gently swaying from side to side, ensuring Jesse felt secure in his arms.

One hesitant step, then another. Jesse's face lit up with excitement, his eyes gleaming with determination. Elvis offered words of encouragement, his voice a gentle melody, easing any fear his son might have had.

"That's it, baby boy!" Elvis praised, his voice filled with pride. "You're doing great, just like your Mama."

Jesse's chubby legs grew stronger, his steps more assured. The room filled with joyous laughter and applause as he took his first independent steps, stumbling slightly before regaining his balance.

Elvis smiled brightly, his heart swelling with love and pride. He knew this was just the beginning of a lifetime of dances they would share together, a legacy that would continue to live on.

"You see, my little man," Elvis whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "Your Mama and I will always be here to catch you when you fall, to help you find your way. You've got a whole world waiting for you, and your old man will be by your side every step of the way."

As Jesse continued to take his first steps, the room filled with a sense of wonder and joy. The bond between father and son grew stronger with each passing moment, a testament to the love that would always guide them.

And as you watched this enchanting scene unfold before your eyes, you couldn't help but feel privileged to have witnessed such a magical moment. Your husband, The King of Rock and Roll, teaching his baby boy to walk, was a memory that would forever be etched in your heart.

[mahg-stuff]

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

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

────────

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

───

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

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

────────────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Goddammit!" He started. 

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

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

His pride was unexpected for you. 

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

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

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

"That right?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn't your Elvis. 

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A look you may never get used to. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making you even more rosy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

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

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

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

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

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

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Master List

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

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here.

[headfullofpresley]

Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.

Word count: 5,5K

Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).

Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3

masterlist

 

“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”

Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.

While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.

She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.

Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.

“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.

“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.

The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.

“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”

Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.

Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.

Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.

“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”

Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”

He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.

When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.

“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.

As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.

“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.

Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.

You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.

“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”

You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”

You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.

You loved to tease him with it.

“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.

“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.

“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.

Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.

“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”

“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”

“Two glasses?”

“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.

You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.

You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.

She was your entire world.

 

Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?

After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.

You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.

Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.

You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.

 

You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.

Scrooge.

She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.

And again, and again, and again.

Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.

Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She’d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.

“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.

She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.

Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.

It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.

You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.

 

“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.

Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.

When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.

“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.

“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”

You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.

You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.

“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.

“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.

You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”

“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”

He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.

“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”

His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.

Roleplaying wasn’t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.

“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”

“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.

He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.

 

Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.

You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.

She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.

Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.

The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.

She loved him, but he was not her father.

Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.

Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.

You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.

 

You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.

You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.

“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.

He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.

His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.

Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.

He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.

“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.

The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.

The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.

Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.

Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.

“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.

 

Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.

She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.

She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.

The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.

And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.

She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.

Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.

“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.

“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”

She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.

“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.

“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.

“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.

“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.

It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”

You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.

Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.

He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.

“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.

Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.

“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”

You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”

“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.

“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”

You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.

“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”

Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.

“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”

She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”

“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.

To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.

“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”

You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”

She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.

And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”

Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.

Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”

“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”

“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”

“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.

“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.

“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.

You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.

In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.

You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Vibes for an upcoming requested Sarge fic 🪖💄🍼

“What’s Miss Rosalee think about seeing palm trees, huh?” the same hopeful as before, this time with his damn camera lowered, took the liberty of grabbing at one of her little feet, intending to wag it playfully but Miss Rosalee let out a wounded cry of disbelief and climbed up her father’s chest with the alacrity of a hunted koala.

Elvis tried to moderate his voice when he cautioned the young journalist, “She don’t wanna be touched, man, please don’t.” but nothing could temper the cool blue flame of his eyes at the guy’s presumption. “Hey, hey hers ok, yes hers is.” he whispered to his baby and slowly brought her down into his lap, a curled little dough ball in a soft pink onesie. “Here Schnucki, curl in baby, have at it.”

He opened his jacket wide and exposed a soft sweater beneath his blazer, dark red and with a deep neckline, he’d bought it for the cowl neck he liked for shielding from the wintry gusts and hiding his chicken neck from photographers. Rosalee likes the way it warms her up and tickles her nose, she burrows her face into his chest so fast it’s comical and the guys laughed as did Elvis gently, all while he closed his blazer back around her little body and gathered up her one vulnerable outlier in his large hands - her little footsies.

“I dunno what y’all are laughin’ at.” Elvis pretended ignorance, crooked grin about ready to split his face, “There ain’t nothin’ here, man, nothin’!” he protested as the guys wheezed in amusement over the tiny, frizzy shock of chestnut hair sticking out the top of his buttoned coat. “Now’re you fools gonna ask me about formula brands or hollywood, hmm?”

[elvisalltheway101]

in the living years; 70s e x reader ☁️

summary: you’re a spice lover, and Elvis decides to try it out.

author’s note: I love spicy, wrote this with my phone on 5% but eh. This is for all my spicy and Elvis lovers! Just a small little blurb🤗

••••••••••

“Goddamn, I’m seeing white right now!” He gasps out the second his tongue darts out to taste the spicy, but mild chip. You roll your eyes playfully and laugh, “what the hell, you didn’t even taste it yet!”

“baby, I don’t need to, I’m seeing the lord in all his glory. Fucking hell, I think I’m seeing Mama Mary too.” He bursts out with a subtle giggle, love being dramatic and annoying. Dramatic wins though.

“With all this talk and stuff coming outta your mouth, I bet it’s not.” You dot and smile, then humming softly in seriousness. “But Elvis, really try it!” You urge on with a hopeful smile.

Rolling his eyes playfully but taking a chomp on the hot potato, it’s almost on cue when he swallows and reaches for the bag. “Damn it’s good, but spicy as fuck. Goddamn it’s good.” He shrugs and glares down the red dusted and crushed peppers in the snack bag, reaching in like a boy for a cookie. “Told ya,” you smile and tut out your chin. But he only continues chomping and eating freely, “tell jer’ get me more of these.”

You snicker and shake my your head, “okay you just started eating them-“ you start but he puts the bag aside and rests his red fingertips on his lap. “But now I’m finished mama.” He shrugs as if he didn’t just kill a whole bag of chips in front of you. His lips and digits covered by the hot chip dust.

You then scoff and pout playfully, crossing your arms over your chest. “Hey I didn’t even take a chip!” You huff out, and he smiles and shakes his head lightly. “That’s why I told ya to tell jerry get some more.” He giggles and rolls his eyes playfully.

In the living years.

•••••••••

tag list: @jhoneybees @pomtherine @your-nanas-love

[ggwritesstuff]

heyyy i have this request for like 1970 elvis or something like that, or basically any one you feel like writing for … can you do a fic where elvis and the reader are together and right before a show they’re basically like begging for him but he has to go on and the reader gets upset and frustrated and so they let someone flirt with them in the crowd during the show and they can tell he saw them bc he started acting really different and sarcastic on stage and then afterwards he gets really jealous and basically drags you to his car on the way back home and while you’re in the car he does like one thing like maybe getting really close to them in the car with like a rough, angry voice and the reader has an orgasm and he acts differently than you’ve ever seen him and when you get home he does like everything to you bc he knows he’s the only one who can ever truly please you???

Safety.

pairing: elvis x reader

warnings: absolute filth. smut. 18+ mdni. reader is a major brat. elvis has a jealousy kink problem. some degradation. elvis is a major tease. mild fem masturbation. some face fucking. creampie lol. a little bit of elvis being in his feelings. one tiny mention of infidelity. prob missing some so as always please read at your own discretion <3

a/n: 70s elvis does absolutely sinful things to me. i am a whore. thank u anon. i am sweating. i am feral. this is very long. like i said my smuts are always slow burns for some reason lol. i think this is the filthiest thing i have ever written. it got a bit fluffy at the end.

a/n part 2: i don’t proofread or else i’ll delete everything and never write again lol enjoy and pls excuse any errors. feedback is always encouraged, and i hope i did your idea justice anon <3

You felt pathetic.

You were pathetic.

But you couldn’t help it. He just had this affect on you that made you feel like a bitch in heat.

You basically had him pinned against the door of his dressing room, your legs wrapped around his torso and holding on for dear life while your face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The angle made it so easy to reach that one spot on his neck you knew he couldn’t resist giving into.

“E.P., five minutes ‘til curtain, let’s move.” A stage hand knocked on the door.

“Darlin’ please, I gotta go, alright?” Elvis pried you off of him, setting you back on your feet. “I love how much you want me, baby, but I can’t be goin’ out there as hard as a rock and end up messing another suit.” He joked, alluding to the incident of his comeback special.

“Fine, go.” You huffed, your sexual frustration seemed to get the better of you in the moment.

“Don’t be catchin’ an attitude with me. I’ll take care of you later, I promise.” He said sternly, cupping your cheek with his hand to pull you in for a quick kiss before running out of the room, only a minute to spare until the show began.

You were pissed. You know you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t help it. He always left you such a desperate mess for him, you were starting to think he got off on denying you.

His dramatic introduction echoed throughout the area. You turned to the mirror behind you to fix yourself up before you headed out to watch him perform. You stopped at the bar for a drink before going to your table, lord knew you needed one to keep your composure for the next hour.

Vodka soda in hand, you made your way to your seat to join the rest of the Memphis Mafia. You watched from the crowd as the man you adored moved in ways that created thoughts you were sure would bar you from the gates of heaven. You were entirely hypnotized by him.

He knew damn well what he was doing to you, too. He glanced in your direction, locking eyes with you as he let out such an obscene grunt that gave you flashbacks to the night before. You felt a flutter between your thighs as you recalled those events.

It’s like you both were playing a game of chicken, waiting to see who would snap first.

Your arousal began to feel overwhelming, your cheeks burned up when you felt yourself clenching around nothing. You stood from your seat on weak, shaky legs and made your way back to the bar where it was a bit less humid. The bartender brought you another drink and you sat on the stool, turned around to continue watching Elvis on stage.

Suddenly, a tall figure appeared in your peripheral vision, taking a drink from the bartender. “How’s the show been?” He asked, subtly biting at his lower lip.

“Oh, it’s been good.” You said, not really paying him much mind.

“I’m Collin.” He extended his hand, inviting you for a handshake.

You were still so aroused by Elvis’s little torturous game that even a handshake from a man of average attractiveness set your nerves ablaze.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, giving him the look that would have had Elvis bending you over the bar making you scream his name. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, focusing back on Collin.

You would never cheat on Elvis, though. This little back and forth with Collin was simply some harmless flirting. Just a little something to get Elvis riled up. You knew he was constantly scanning the room in search for you, you caught his eyes a handful of times in your conversation with Collin.

The night went on until the last song of Elvis’s set, his eyes were glued to you and Collin for the duration of it. You turned your head to meet his gaze, you’d never seen him as green with jealousy as he was in that moment. You decided it was time to head backstage before the song ended so you said goodnight to Collin, placing a hand on his broad shoulder as you walked away and practically having a staring contest with Elvis on stage. You already knew you were in for it tonight anyways.

You made your way backstage again, watching from the side as the curtain fell in front of Elvis. He rose from his kneeled stance and beelined right towards you.

“Let’s go.” He said sternly in your ear, his hand was placed on the small of your back, ushering you forward as he shouted a general goodnight to the crew. Security opened the back door for him and he lead you to the car, opening the door for you.

“What the hell was all that at the bar?” He asked as he climbed in. He was trying to keep his composure but you could see right through it. He was furious. You had him right where you wanted him. You shrugged in response as you tried to keep your lips from curling into a smirk, but he saw right through that.

“That’s how you want this to go tonight?” Elvis raised an eyebrow at you. “Y’know, baby, I was gonna go real easy on you tonight. I was gonna make love to you.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing it harshly as he started the car. “But I don’t think that’s what you want. I mean, why would my angel go and act like a little slut if she didn’t want to be treated like one, right?”

You were already soaked when he swiftly shoved two long, calloused fingers in you. The sudden feeling of fullness caught you off guard, but it was more than welcomed. Your back arched away from the seat and a high pitched whine escaped your lips.

He chuckled at your reaction, curling his fingers inside you and turning you into putty in his hands. “Fuckin’ drenched. This for me or for the guy you were makin’ googly eyes with at the bar, huh?”

“All for y-you, El. Been soaked all night cause of you.” You admitted, clinging to the seat for stability as Elvis continued to work his fingers in you as he drove home, his other hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. He was pissed, and you couldn’t have been more turned on.

Elvis threw the car in park as soon as he pulled into the driveway. He stepped out and walked around to open your door because he’s still a gentleman despite his jealousy fueled rage and the ever tightening of his pants as his own arousal grew. Without words, he offered his hand to assist you in getting out of the car.

Once you were on your feet, he stopped you before you could walk inside. “Here’s how this is gonna go, darlin’. You’re gonna take those panties off and give ‘em to me. You’re gonna walk inside and I’m gonna take that cute little dress of yours, and you’re gonna go wait on the bed for me.” Elvis explained. You were a bit shocked by this level of dominance from him. He always had a bit of a dominant edge to him in the bedroom but this was different. It was exciting.

“Yes, sir.” You said quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“Panties now, please.” He demanded, holding his hand out as he waited for you to peel them off and place them in his hand. He toyed with the fabric between his fingers, feeling just how damp you had been all night. “What got you all wet and needy, princess?”

“Just watching you all night.” You breathed out as he ushered you in the house and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Before you could go upstairs to wait for him like he said, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him. He went in for your neck, and instead of the sensual kisses you were used to, you felt his teeth biting at the skin, letting your blood rise to the surface and coloring your skin, drawing a moan from you.

“Upstairs. I’ll come up when I come up. No touching.” He stated, calm yet still stern. A light smack on your ass nudged you upstairs.

Now upstairs and waiting like he said to, you debated with yourself on whether you wanted to be good for him or be a brat. You were still a bit annoyed with him for leaving you all hot and bothered before the show. That was enough to make up your mind. Brat it was.

With your mind now made, you got yourself comfy on your shared bed, legs spread wide as you disobeyed Elvis’s order not to touch yourself. You wanted to push his buttons a bit tonight, and you were desperate for any stimulation you could get. You trailed your fingers down to your core, gathering some of your wetness and gliding a finger around your clit. You almost could have came right there from how turned on you were. Quietly at first, whimpers tumbled from your lips, but your volume increased as your pleasure did.

Elvis’s footsteps were heavy coming up the staircase, you could hear him grumbling something under his breath until he reached the bedroom. “My god, you’re like a bitch in heat. Too damn turned on to keep your hands outta that pussy.” He scolded, you could only moan in response to his degrading words as you watched him remove the robe he had changed into after sending you upstairs. Standing only in his boxers, he made his way over to you on the bed, taking your hand away from your clit and prohibiting any further pleasure for the moment, ignoring your whining protests.

“Kneel on the floor, gonna put that mouth to good use.” He ordered, pulling his cock out from his boxers and giving it a few strokes while you assumed your position at his feet with your mouth open. “Look at you, such a good slut for me.” Elvis marveled at the sight beneath him, tangling his fingers in your hair as you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. “Fuckin’ shit.” He groaned out as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him as much as possible. With hollowed cheeks you continued to take him as deep as you can, gagging around his length when he hit the back of your throat.

“Hold on-“ He muttered, stilling your movements. You stared up at him with those doe eyes that drove him to the brink of insanity with his cock still in your mouth, running your tongue around whatever surface of skin you could. “Shit, doll- Lemme fuck your pretty face.” He managed to get out. You gave him a slight nod allowing him to use you as he pleases.

Just like that, he was animalistic. He used your hair as leverage as he mercilessly thrusted himself into your mouth, relishing the feeling when you would swallow around him. Strings of profanities left his plump lips before pulling out, his tip left your lips with a small pop. You whined at the loss, but he brought a hand to cup your cheek, gently stroking your face with the pad of his thumb and sucking on it when he ghosted it against your lips.

“C’mon, up on the bed.” Elvis offered his hand again to help you up from the floor. He sat you down on the silky soft bedsheets, resting his hand on your thigh once again. “Tell me something- you ever think about goin’ and finding another man?” He asked, laying you down gently.

“No, sir. Just want you.” You confessed, beginning to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction as your desperation continued to grow.

“Why is that, doll? You love me?” Elvis asked, sneaking his hand down to pry your legs apart, letting his fingers drag themselves through your folds and smirking to himself at the feeling of your wetness and the way you writhed under his touch. “Or is it cause you know ain’t no other man can make you this messy just barely touching you?”

Something about that question did something to you. He was right. He knew he was right. This man could play you like a fiddle without even touching you. “B-both.” You stuttered while Elvis indulged himself in toying with your pussy that was now unbelievably sensitive due to how aroused you were. You were already overstimulated, seemingly just by his mere presence.

“Tell me, mama. You tell me I’m the only one who could make you cum just by listening to me gruntin’ and groanin’ up on stage and I’ll give you the world.” He said sweetly, teasing his middle finger at your entrance before filling you with it and making you cry out.

His demeanor had softened compared to earlier, he was calmer, not as angry. But he was still jealous that you had given Collin more attention than you did to his show, and this was his way of getting the reassurance he craved. This was how he was finding the security he feared losing.

“The only one, Elvis, please.” You were begging for more at this point.

“That’s right, mama. ” He cooed in your ear, removing his fingers from you and positioning himself between your legs that were now shaking. Elvis lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the sight and sound of you all strung out under him, all strung out for him, whimpering for him.

Without warning, he snapped his hips forward, plunging into you with a groan. You cried out as he filled you, hands instinctively flying to his back where your nails anchored themselves for stability as he rutted into you. His thrusts were desperate, it was almost as if he was trying to get even closer than just being inside you.

The last several hours you had spent so hungry for him were coming to a head, the coil in your belly had been wound up so tightly, you worried that he would have you cumming around him in less than two minutes.

“Don’t you ever go ‘round thinking you’ll get this feeling from another man.” Elvis said as he wrapped his hand around your throat with just enough pressure to dizzy you, filling you with ecstasy.

“All yours, El, I promise.” You panted while he fucked himself into you, muttering under his breath about his good little slut as he lost himself in between thrusts. His sweat dripped from his forehead and onto your chest, a slight sheen blanketed your breasts.

“That’s right, angel. All mine.” His thrusts turned sloppy as soon as he reached between your hot bodies to paw at your clit, you were squeezing his cock like a vice and he wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

He slowed his pace while he toyed with your clit, savoring the sensation of how you clenched up around him; it nearly sent shivers down his spine. The pressure and speed he applied to your clit combined with the way he was hitting that sweet spot within you with each stroke brought you right to the edge, verging on tumbling off at any moment now.

“l- fuck, I’m close-“ You managed to form the words, you could hardly recognize your own voice.

Elvis lifted his head from the crook of your neck for a moment. “Go ‘head, and cum for me, doll”. He allowed, increasing the speed of his thrusts again as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me like I’m the only one who can make you cum, cause that’s right, isn’t it?”

And oh god, did that do you in. His desire to be the only one for you. You clutched his strong arm as your orgasm tore through you; chanting his name like a prayer, like it was the only word in your vocabulary. Elvis was right behind you on that ledge, toppling over along with you. His hips stuttered in you as your walls contracted around him and he found his sweet, sweet release spilling inside you with a strangled moan. You rode your orgasms out together, his hips slowing as you squeezed around him, overstimulating him just a bit until he pulled out and collapsed next to you.

Your chests heaved in time, glistening with each others sweat as you caught your breath. Elvis regressed into a bit of a vulnerable state. “Don’t go pullin’ that shit again, darlin’. Can’t be letting my girl get swept away from me.” He mumbled into your skin as he nuzzled himself into your bare chest.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” You lovingly stroked his hair that was now laced with sweat. “You’ll always be the only one for me, I promise.” You reassured him with a kiss to his forehead. Elvis snaked his arm around your waist, beginning to drift off to asleep. You followed not far behind him, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

This was safety. This was security.

[elvisabutler]

you know how kids are supposed to be good judges of character? i was wondering if you could do elvis x reader where their kids don't like mommy and daddy's manager?

children 'n dogs

summary: your children with elvis never have been a big fan of the colonel and neither have you even if elvis is. but as you and elvis like to say: "children 'n dogs, best judges of character." fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: t pairing: elvis presley x female reader ( or austin elvis x female reader ) word count: 1854 warnings: talk of children being absolute menaces. a married couple being very much a married couple. pregnancy. the colonel being the colonel. brief mentions of period typical and culturally typical opinions on child rearing re: discipline and spanking. calling elvis a backwater hick. brief brief mention of vomit. i think that should be everything. author’s note: so hi anon thank you for this prompt, this was actually a really sweet one and i kind of fell in love with it but wasn't too sure how to start it- plus the fun tired exhaustion i've been dealing with. i set this as a sort of continuation of my queen of graceland fic ( that i wrote for specifically austin elvis ), you don't have to read that one, just know it basically has elvis and the reader getting together right before he gets shipped off to germany, and they have a set of twin girls right about that time and i implied they were going to have plenty more kids after those two. read this with austin elvis or elvis in mind, i am not picky, since i left it faintly nebulous.

"Whaddya mean Jess spit on 'im? Damn boy is 6 years old, he knows better." Elvis asks as you start to take down your hair for the night, wincing at one of the pins digging deeper into your hair. "Christ, mama, let me get those ones in the back, ya know ya can't get at 'em."

You roll your eyes but remove your hands only to have your husband's warm hands replace them, finding the pins in your hair with an ease you envy. "I meant exactly what I said, sweetheart. Jesse spit on the Colonel in the five minutes I looked away while tryin' to make sure Loretta and Elizabeth were all ready to go. They all know I'm not movin' all that fast right now." Your hand moves to rub at your bump, an act that has Elvis letting out a heavy sigh above your head, one of his own hands following downward and pressing against it, earning a powerful kick.

"That's what I get for putting another set of 'em in ya, isn't it? My Queen of Graceland too big to be chasin' after my lil' hellion of a boy." He moves his hand off of your stomach, only to watch another kick happen with a chuckle as he busies himself with your hair. "Colonel seemed madder than just a lil spit. Gettin' the feelin' there's more."

There is a moment when you contemplate not telling him the rest, not telling him how your oldest daughters had lost their tempers once you got them over to where their siblings were and how the other two boys promptly followed their older brother and hit the Colonel and how your youngest daughter, your sweet 18 month old daughter had thrown up on the Colonel's shoes. You contemplate all of this only to look up at your husband and realize he's waiting, mid trying to take out a pin. "Everyone might have- well- everyone might have had their own things they wanted to do t'him."

Now you're no stranger to trying to smooth over things your children have done to Elvis, no stranger to making it seem as if your children are far more innocent than they actually are. But in being married to you and in knowing your children together from the day they were born he knows when you're doing it. He knows exactly when you're trying to gloss over things and make them look presentable. He leans down and places a kiss to the top of your forehead. "Darlin'. I ain't gonna be mad at 'em. Or maybe jus' a lil, but ya gotta tell me what they did so I can apologize."

You hum and purse your lips as you move to grab a brush to brush out your hair. "Oh, I don't think any of 'em want you to apologize for what they did. They know very well what they did was wrong." A pause and you shake your head. "Loretta and Elizabeth kicked him in the shin and stepped on his foot. While tellin' him to stop bein' angry at Jesse for spittin' and Anthony and Aaron for tryin' to bite and hit 'im."

The two warring emotions that filter across Elvis's face show just how much of a child he can be even as he's a parent to six kids- eight if he counted the ones inside you. He wants to laugh at the sheer chaos the scene brings to mind but at the same time he knows that he should frown upon everything, that you expect him to be able to discipline them a little but at the same time he looks in your eyes and doesn't see a hint of anger. At the children or him. He raises an eyebrow. "And the vomit on the shoe?"

"Rebecca's lunch." The most simple answer as he pulls out the final pins that you couldn't properly see to pull out. "That one i wasn't expectin' in the slightest. Don't know if it was her tryin' to follow her sibling's leads or jus' an upset stomach. But- she hasn't done it since then."

Meaning it likely was her trying to get in on the action. Elvis sighs, sitting on the chest at the bottom of the bed. "Goddamn, darlin'- Our kids did all o' that to him? Our well behaved kids? The ones who know their manners 'n-"

You hold up a hand waving it for him as a signal to stop talking. "Our kids who know their manners 'cause they know I'd have their hides if they didn't. Yes, those kids. Those kids also hate the Colonel 'bout as much as I do-"

It's Elvis's turn to cut you off, standing up only to kneel down in front of you, taking the brush out of your hands so that he can hold them in his own. So he can envelop them in his own and make you focus on his face as he talks. "I know- I know the two of ya haven't ever gotten along but he's why we have all o'this. Wouldn't have gotten so big and wouldn't be in these pictures if it wasn't for 'im."

There is a part of you, a tiny part that will admit he's right, that the Colonel is the reason he's as famous as he is and why he's able to keep up with paying for your ever growing family but at the same time the man hasn't ever truly liked you and he especially likes you less and less the more kids you bring into the world. "Elvis, if he had his way you wouldn't have me or our kids." You whisper, pulling up your hands in an effort to get him to pull up his own so that you can place a small kiss to them. "He never has liked any of us. Got mad when I was pregnant with Loretta and Elizabeth but liked how he could spin it. Same wit' Jesse. But our other three? And these ones? If he could leave us out in a ditch somewhere, I honestly think he would. He- This doesn't give you the all American, Hollywood star look, it makes you look like a backwater hick."

"A backwater hick." He repeats back slowly, knowing fully well it wasn't you saying that. Oh he'd expect that from your mama, but not you. Which had to have meant that was the Colonel's words, not your own. "He tell ya that? He tell my goddamn wife that?

When you had first gotten married you might have looked away due to how Elvis's voice deepens in pitch, a sure sign of how angry he is simmering under the surface. Nowadays? Now it just makes you shake your head for a moment before nodding. "He has- which might be why your children kinda like a dog know when someone is-"

"Not a good person? Has a bad character?" He finishes for you before muttering under his breath. "Children 'n dogs."

The puff of air that leaves your nose betrays just how aggravated you're getting to be with the entire conversation as does the rolling movement of your twins. "They've done this for years, Elvis, it's jus' today that they've all done it at once. We deal wit' it for ya. I know you won't leave 'im so I handle it."

His eyes drift down to your stomach where he sees his children move a bit angrily and he frowns realizing that you've been stuck dealing with this alone while he sung the Colonel's praises all this time. He had to admit that as of late he was feeling a bit dissatisfied with the man and was beginning to wonder if maybe it was time for a change. A change that would make everyone happy. He pulls his hands away from yours and allows you to start to brush your hair again while he moves to touch and rub your stomach in an effort to calm the children. It works quicker than he'd have thought was possible judging by the way you lean back in the chair a little and sigh. Placing a kiss to your stomach he stands up. "I'll talk to 'im tomorrow, a'right? 'Bout a lot of things. Now come on, lets get your hair all brushed and my teeth all brushed and get ya into bed 'fore these lil ones wake back up and make a fuss."

You tilt your head up for a kiss before you nod. "Don't need to tell me twice. Go on, I got my hair sweetheart." You pause. "I love you. And I am sorry about what they did."

"Don't be, they're- our kids, mama. If they weren't like this- I'd be worried." He kisses you one more time before he pulls away to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Love ya too."

Elvis manages to finish brushing his teeth before you finish with your hair and murmurs something about checking on the kids. It's a quick walk to the bedrooms and when he opens the door he's bombarded by a flurry of hugs and overlapping voices.

"We know we shouldn't have but he's so mean to mama!"

"He was yelling at Jesse and Anthony and Aaron, you'd've been mad too daddy!"

"He spit on me first!"

"He what?" The last words uttered by Jesse are what finally have Elvis putting up his hands and telling everyone to be quiet. "Didya jus' say he spit on ya?"

Jesse looks away when he answers, knowing that he technically is lying but he knows Mr. Parker would have. He just knows. "He didn't but- Daddy we jus'. He's mean. He's never mean when you're here but he's mean."

Elvis frowns and pulls his children in for a group hug, noting how they try and burrow into him as best as they can almost as if they want his forgiveness and protection all in one. When he pulls away he places a kiss to each of their foreheads. "I- I'm hearin' all 'bout this tonight. Listen. You all go on 'n get into bed. Daddy's gonna deal wit' some things tomorrow. Some things wit' Colonel Parker. Don't you worry 'bout it."

The grins so much like his own crossing all of their faces make his heart so full of love he almost feels like crying before he shakes his head. Lights out once I leave. And be nice to your mama tomorrow mornin' ya know your siblings are a lil rough on her right now."

A chorus of "yes daddy" leaves everyone's lips in whatever way they can manage it before he shuts the door and moves back to your shared bedroom. You're already on the bed by the time he comes back, curled up with a pillow fast asleep as he slides in next to you and nuzzles at your neck. "Ya gotta tell me 'bout these sorta things, darlin'. Can't protect ya if ya don't. But I'll deal wit' it tomorrow mornin'. Have some words wit' 'im. Love all of ya too much to not."

taglist: @ab4eva, @eliseinmemphis, @powerofelvis, @headfullofpresley, @precious-little-scoundrel, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, one day i'm gonna keep track of who would want to be tagged with what. today is not that day.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 4

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, SMUT, cheating, fingering, the usual dirty stuff

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 4! The spicy stuff is here and it’s here to stay🤭 I hope you enjoy all this and can't wait to keep building this relationship and the secrets that lie beneath it. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs.🖤

The bag of ice burns into your neck making you wince and huff out a frustrated groan. You did this to yourself. There was no one else to blame. Well, maybe Elvis. You could blame Elvis for doing this to you but begged him to do all of it you. Every last thing. Now you’ll never be able to look at a piano the same without picturing Elvis eating you out on top of it.

All last night you kept replaying the events in your head, how you have never felt so satisfied and wish you could somehow reenact those feelings he gave you.

There was one way you could…

No. Absolutely not. This was a one-time thing and you just have to live with the memories.

You managed to avoid Daniel and he never saw you walk in the door with the huge bandage plastered across your neck. You couldn’t go to sleep right away and tossed and turned for hours it seemed. The shame didn’t wrack through you like you thought it would, it was quite the opposite. There was something so addictive about him. About being close to him and when he was fucking you, there was no word to describe how it felt.

Looking in the mirror, you inspect how your bruise is looking. After icing it all night and a bit this morning, the swelling went down and the purple coloring was much less prominent and diluted. It still showed and you thought putting another bandage on would make it even more noticeable than it already was. You decided to dab some makeup on it and hope no one asks any questions about it.

Getting to work, the locker room is empty thankfully and you get your uniform on and stock up on some cleaning supplies that aren’t in your cart. The ticking of the clock rings in your ears as you wait for the minute hand to hit the twelve-clock mark, making it three pm.

The familiar ring fills the room and you eagerly pick up the phone.

“Housekeeping, this is y/n,” you say happily.

“Mr. Presley wishes to see you.” The click of the receiver doesn’t surprise you and you make your way to the elevator with your cleaning cart.

This trip to the penthouse made your stomach have butterflies, making your heart beat wildly at the anticipation of just seeing him. You really don’t know what to talk to him about when you get up there though. Are you two just going to act normal and act like the events that transpired last night never happened? That was a lot to just suddenly ignore.

You walk past the men in the hallway and they keep their heads down, standing there like statues as they always did. Pushing the double doors, you walk into the suite and get greeted by those dark blue eyes. He takes your breath away, the second you step foot into his space, you just want to collapse into his arms and do what he wants.

You take a deep breath before speaking, “Hello, Mr. Presley,” You say softly.

He smirks, amused by your candor, “Hi honey, you can call me Elvis if you’d like,” he says sweetly. You smile looking down at your feet, not wanting him to see that his charm is working.

“Thank you, Elvis. Where would you like me to start?” you say shyly.

He stares at you and doesn’t look away.

“I didn’t really call you up here to clean honey,” he says gruffly.

“Umm, Mr. Presley I really should do something that pertains to my job…” you say a bit intimidated by his tone and presence.

“Fine. You can take the trash out of all the bathrooms first,” he says courtly, his face showing amusement as you are trying to stay as far away from him.

You nod your head and go to the guest bathrooms and get everything in order. When you turn around to grab something from your cleaning cart, Elvis is behind you.

“Mr… I mean Elvis you’re really going to have to stop sneaking up on me, you’re going to scare me off,” you tease.

“Hmm, I don’t think much scares you but I hear you loud and clear,” he winks at you, making you blush.

You head back to the living room and it’s almost in perfect condition, leaving you surprised he called you up here again.

“Not having that many crazy parties hmm?” You ask him jokingly.

“Haven’t had many people over. Being a recluse and all as you say,” he quips. You can’t help but laugh at the little dig he made.

“Well I guess you need some more friends then Mr. Presley,” you tease.

“It seems you’ve been my only company lately,” he says slyly.

Your cheeks continue to burn and you can’t help but wonder what he thinks about all of this.

“Well I’m very sorry for that,” you tease.

“No please, don’t ever be sorry. I much rather have you around,” You glanced up at him as he has that familiar twinkle in his eye, making you look anywhere else.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” he asks.

“Uh, yea I slept fine, did you sleep okay?” You ask, feeling uneasy to talk to him so freely like this.

“No not really but I’m fine. I don’t need much sleep,” he says cheekily.

You try to scurry away from this awkward small talk and act like he wasn't stuffing you to the hilt with his cock last night.

Jesus, focus.

You check in the little half bath that’s by the front door and fold some hand towels for any guests he might have. Looking up in the mirror, you see Elvis behind you again, having a devious look on his face. You jump and turn around to face him.

“I still make you nervous? Even after everything I did to you last night,” he insinuates

Your cheeks flush and you feel your heart dance wildly.

“Well, I don’t know who can ever get used to being so close to you Elvis. But I guess even after everything that transpired… you still make me feel on edge.”

He steps toward you and you fight the urge to step away like you always do.

“Mhmm, good,” he murmurs darkly. “I don’t want you to get too comfortable,” he grumbles as he looks at you in the mirror, his hands on your shoulders to turn you back around to face the mirror. His body pushes up against your small frame and you both let out a soft moan when feeling each other like this.

He places a soft kiss on your neck, making chills run down your body. His lips feel cold yet so soft and plump, you could let him kiss your neck for hours if he wanted.

“And if I do get… comfortable… then what?” You ask in an airy manner.

“Then I would have to put you back in your place,” He says low.

“And where’s that? On top of the piano?” You insinuate. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and nods his head at you.

“Mhmm… that’s one way,” he trails off, his hands finding your hips and squeezing them. You involuntarily push your body back into his rigid frame and let out a slow exhale.

“There are so many rooms we can use tho. I was thinking more of a way to get you to listen to me and not be so obstinate,” he alludes. Your body felt like it was on fire again having him pressed against you. Your breathing became shallow and the more you breathed in, the more you took in his delicious scent.

“That’s going to be a challenge, I don’t think you know me very well, I’m very difficult,”

His hands trail down the front of your body, scrunching up the material of your skirt to expose your panties.

“I think I can find a way to… persuade you,” he notes.

You look at him in the mirror drunk on you already and feel your arousal begin to form. He smirks down at you, almost like he can feel your slick forming because of him, and continues to kiss your neck. You try to break away from him but it feels impossible, looking in those mesmerizing eyes that suck you in every time.

His fingers find your sensitive bud and he starts to rub slow circles there, watching as your head falls back onto his chest.

Your breathing becomes labored and you try to swallow the moans you want to let free. You feel him press his cock into your ass and the soft groan he gives when he does that sends throbs to your core.

He works you like he’s known you your entire life, giving you exactly what you want before uttering a word.

He picks up one of your legs and bends it at your knee, placing it on the counter and stretching it out before you, giving him a better view of your soaked panties.

His lips feel like fire on your skin, making you want more of him and have your body more on edge. You watch as his fingers pull your panties to the side, letting the cool air hit your core and leaving you panting for more from him. Watching in the reflection his cold, long fingers spread your lower lips apart, you see how he exposes your weeping core to him in the mirror and watches his face looking at you hungrily, hearing him groan in your ear.

“Fuck baby look at yourself, this kitty needs so much attention hmm,” he asks sensually.

You can’t help but moan at his words and you shut your eyes closed, so sexually frustrated.

“God fuck please, I should probably… leave you alone,” you moan quietly, the sound of his dirty words making you wetter by the second.

He cocks his head at you, examining you carefully before speaking.

“Is that really what you want honey? Or do you want me to take care of that needy pussy.” He groans in your ear.

“Elvis I, I can’t. I shouldn’t,” you pant.

He looks amused at you like he knows that’s actually all you want. You want him to fulfill this newfound need for him that he created. This undeniable need for him to please you for hours. You feel his finger tease your entrance, rubbing there before pushing it inside you. You cry out to him, feeling the pleasure run through you the second he’s inside you.

You watch in the mirror how his finger curls inside you and is covered in your arousal when he pulls it out of you. His other hand glides over your chest and into your shirt, unbuttoning it to show your breasts in your plain white bra. He squeezes your breasts and watches as your face begs for more. The way he’d touch you was all too much yet not enough. You wished you could wrangle this need you have for him but nothing will do. He’s created a monster and you’re more than okay with it.

“Elvissss,” you moan, looking at him in the mirror.

“What honey, tell me what you need. Don’t need to fight what you want,” he coos.

You are breathless at this point and can’t believe he has you like this. This needy, whimpering mess in his bathroom.

“Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” you groan breathlessly. He gives you a sly look in the mirror as he enters another finger inside of you making you buck your hips.

“By the looks of it, I’m already fucking you darlin’. What more do you want?” He growls deviously. You cry out loudly as he moves his fingers faster in and out of you, making wet, sloppy noises come out of your core. You keep crying for him to give you what you want but he doesn’t listen. He’s a master at teasing and keeping you right on the edge. His fingers weren’t nearly enough and wanted to be fucked with something much bigger.

“Please, no more teasing,” you beg.

He chuckles and smiles at you in the mirror, “I’m just doing what you asked honey. You’ll have to be more specific,” he spats.

Your hand reaches around and finds his straining cock in his pants. You carefully watch his face as you rub him through his pants. How it turns from smug to pleasure in just one motion.

“I need this, please. Don’t tease me anymore,” you plead. He grins at you in delight, finally hearing the words he’s been waiting for. He pulls his fingers out of you and puts them to his mouth, licking them clean. You take your leg off the counter and turn around to face him, lust reading through him again. He placed his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly as you release a soft moan. His eyes get drawn to the side of your neck that you tried to cover up with makeup but his keen eyes noticed the splotchy spot.

He groans as his index finger traces the spot he left, “I’m sorry about this, I couldn’t help myself,” he snickers.

“You were really trying to take a bite out of me hmm?” You joke

“You have no idea how much I’d love that,” he growls darkly. His mouth is back on your neck and sucking on the same spot he did before. You moan and push yourself more into his body. This bruise was never going to heal if you kept this up. You gasp at the urgency he has in his body, how he really feels like he is trying to take a bite out of you. You thought your need for him was insatiable, you think somehow his is even worse. He suddenly stops and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

He carries you to the bedroom where it’s low-lit once again and he has a few candles on. Your heart beats wildly and wait for him to make the next move. He sets you down and he casually walks to the window sill.

Your eyes linger on him, wanting him to break the tension in the room but he doesn’t budge. You’re so tempted to just walk out now while you still have your dignity and clothes left intact. You glance back at the door that he left cracked open but the booming of his voice gets your attention.

“You still being difficult hmm? Then I’m going to be difficult too” He says gruffly.

“Come here.”

The throbbing in your core continues and his eyes pull you in.

You walk over to him carefully and step in between his legs, looking up at him nervously.

“This is dangerous,” you whisper.

He glided his hand up your thigh, making you inhale sharply.

“Yes, I know. But that’s not going to stop you,”

His hands then move to the inside of your legs, feeling the soft flesh there, then zipping the skirt and pulling it down off your hips. He undoes the last remaining buttons on your shirt and flings it to the side, watching as it flutters to the ground in a crumpled fashion.

“I shouldn’t like it this much… the way you make me feel good,” you say a bit breathlessly, knowing that you need him more than you realize.

“I know honey, but don’t fight it, let me keep making you feel good. You have no idea how much I love being inside you,” he groans. Your heart thumps and your breathing is hitching with every salacious word he throws at you.

“Please make me feel good again. But this has to be the last time,” you say to assure yourself more than him.

A smile forms on his face and his fingers cup your pussy, rubbing his fingers through your sopping wet folds.

“I can do that for you honey, you feel nice and ready for me,” he teases, “I don’t like that last part though,” he growls. He grabs one of your legs and wraps it around his hip, slithering his hand down to your throbbing bud. He looks up at you in awe, so infatuated with every sound you make as your hips grind into his fingers. You feel him spreading your wetness that is now spilling onto the side of your thigh and rolling down. His fingers find it and he slides it up, bringing that finger to his mouth and licking it.

A moany cry comes out of you and you keep begging for him.

“Fuck baby you need it this bad huh?”

You nod your head profusely wanting him so bad. You don’t want to waste any more time and take your bra and panties off in one quick motion, needing his skin to touch you without any barriers.

“Yes, Elvis. Please,” you moan.

You were a moth to the flame and there was no escaping Elvis. He was just what you wanted and something about him made you feel whole. Something you haven’t had in the longest time.

As wrong as this all was, maybe it was the time to make a rational decision about being with Daniel. Was this an act of pure lust or was there something more…

None of that mattered now as he squeezes your hips and turns you around, your hands against the cold window bracing yourself for what he was going to give you.

“What are you doing?” You say surprised by his sudden forcefulness.

“Making you listen,” he hisses.

His tip rubs through your folds, causing an agonizing sensation through you having been teased for far too long. He doesn’t care, he’s in control and will keep waiting for as long as you can take it. Your whimpers escalate and you try to push your hips back into his length to get some kind of relief.

Suddenly you feel his hand wrap your hair in a tight grip and pulls it back, making you gasp with how rough he’s being.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, honey, I’ll fuck you, but I don’t want you leaving after. I have to show you more ways of how I can please you,” he says darkly.

“Elvis, I-I-I can’t stay here for long. I don’t want people getting suspicious,” you hiss over your shoulder at him. He yanks your hair again, making you cry out.

“What are they going to get suspicious about? That you come up here and beg for my cock and get no cleaning done hmm?,” He growls in your ear. Chills rush through your body and you freeze, obeying his orders whether you like it or not.

Before you know it, you feel his long length plunge into your wet heat, filling you so quickly and powerfully. You cry out his name, overwhelmed by the forcefulness. His grunts fill the room and the grip he has on your hips is tight, you’re sure that this is going to leave bruises there too.

“Ahh, Elvis,” you mewl.

His hips move faster and your breathing hitched every time you feel him get deeper inside of you.

“What honey, you can’t take this cock after begging me for it? You want me to stop,” He spats darkly, pulling his length completely out of you. You gasp, wanting him to fill you again and stop playing this game of his.

“Ah, no, please. I want you,” you beg.

He plunges his length back inside you, stuffing you to the hilt making both of you groan loudly.

“Good that’s what I thought,” he says snidely, “Tell me you’ll stay longer,” he groans with a snap of his hips making you gasp.

“N-no, I can’t,” you whimper out. His hand wraps around your throat, holding it there making you groan.

“Then I’ll stop fucking you, is that what you want?” He growls.

You’re completely at his mercy now but you’re more than okay with it. Your moans grow louder the harder he snaps his hips into you.

“No please, I-I-I’ll stay,” you manage to squeak out.

“Mhmm, such a good girl,” he growls.

The way he moves his hips is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The way he can make you completely surrender to his every last breath.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to adjust to how he’s taking you. The way he’s handling you is different than last time. Yesterday he wanted to discover you, take his time and make you feel things you’ve never felt before but now, he’s fucking you like his life depends on it. Like he’s been dying for this.

You feel him quickly pull out of you and turn you around. Looking up into his eyes with shock and bewilderment, you see the dark bluish-grey pools there where the ones icy blue ones were. He must notice your stares as he looks down at your body.

“Are you okay? Your eyes are so dark,” you ask shakily.

“Don’t worry about that baby I’m better than okay right now,” he says quickly as he picks you up and rests you on the window sill ledge. The cold glass hits your back and you visibly shiver as you look at him with hunger in his eyes.

“Fuck,” he moans. He goes straight for your neck and sucks there, groaning and breathing in deeply as he does this. It feels so dangerous the way he possessively sucks at your neck, like he’s trying to mark you or something. Another part of you likes it, like he should be sucking on your neck for the whole world to see that you belong to him.

Oh god no. No, it can’t go that far. This is just sex it doesn’t mean anything more than that.

With a grunt, he’s back inside you and filling you so completely. This position feels more intense as you are both at eye level with each other and feel the rise and fall of your chests. You can’t hold on for much longer as he rubs your clit with his thumb and coaxes you to reach your orgasm.

“Yes, honey you feel so good. Taking my cock so well,” he coos in your ear. You shut your eyes and groan at him, angry at yourself for liking everything he ever says to you.

Your walls flutter around his length and he grins at you, grinding his hips into your faster to get you closer to your release. You keep your eyes shut, trying to savor these feelings he’s giving you but your focus gets snapped away as you feel his hand on your jaw. He kisses you passionately, attacking your lips with his and your tongues swirl against each other. He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Cum for me, show me how good I make you feel,” he demands.

Your body shakes and you squeeze around his length, making you cry out his name over and over. It’s all too much and somehow you’ll know you’ll be wanting more later. He slows his pace and continues to watch you moan through your orgasm. Clinging onto his arms, you gasp and try to get ahold of your emotions.

Elvis quickly pulls out of you and you watch as his hand wraps around his cock, wet and sticky from your arousal. He groans as he slowly pulls his foreskin back and exposes his red tip and rubs his thumb there. He keeps this slow pace as you can’t look away from what he’s doing to himself. Wishing you could be the one to do that.

He looks up at you and grabs your hand, pulling you off the ledge. He wraps your hand around his length and you jerk him slowly, watching his face form into ecstasy.

“Make me cum baby,” he says low. You nod your head and start moving your hand faster, hearing the slick sounds your hand on his length is making. Watching him get off like this is so unbelievably attractive and makes you want him to take you again. His breathing labors and you feel him twitch in your hand. Quickly, you sink to your knees and pump his load on your breasts. He looks down at you in awe, so lust driven and filled with pleasure. You keep looking up at him as he continues to cum hot thick spurts on you. You don’t understand why this is so hot but you can admit that it was just as enjoyable to him as it was for you.

The last few drops come out of him and he’s left breathless, biting his lip as he looks at your hungrily, watching the spurts of his cum drop down your breasts.

“Fuck, you know exactly what I wanted huh?” He smirks.

“I had a feeling you might like it,” you say coyly.

He walks swiftly to the side of the bed, giving you a great view of his behind leaving you on your knees on the floor. He pulls the handle of the top drawer of the small nightstand and pulls out a Polaroid camera. Walking back to you and sinking onto his knees too, he looks you over.

“May I?” He asks as he raises the camera up. “You look too good to not be photographed,” he marvels to you.

You nod your head before you can form a coherent thought. Placing your hands underneath your breasts, you lift them slightly and squeeze, giving him the best view imaginable. You look directly into the camera lens, showing off your big doe eyes, and wait for him to take the picture. He grins at you and raises the camera to his eye, leaning back, and pressing the shutter button.

Click.

He pulls the film out of the top of the camera and shakes it. He set them down on the ground and takes your breasts in his hands, rubbing your nipples causing another electric shock into your system.

“God you make me want to do so many bad things to you,” he whimpers softly.

You blush at his words and look down at the discarded Polaroid, capturing you covered in his seed and for him to keep for as long as he wants.

“Well I told you I’d stay, you better show me some of those things you want,” you look back up at him challengingly, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling. You know you’re in deep trouble with him, sinful thoughts filling your head with the most alluring man to ever exist sitting right in front of you. And lord, what lovely sins you’ll commit with him.

•

•

•

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog . @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18Ikpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jacqueline19997 @returntopresley @iloveelvis @rimartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86

[starryschoolgirl]

An Honest Woman Chapter 1

Summary -> Spending your youth as the neglected wife of a rich merchant wasn't what you had dreamed about as a girl. Had it not been for Elvis, the man who maintains the stable house, you could very well have died an early death from loneliness. You were lucky to have a friend as you sat in the big manor like one of the many pretty vases your much older husband owned, but the lines of fond friendship and something else soon begin to intermingle.

Warnings will vary for each chapter, please always read them.

Warnings -> Set in the late 1800s, classic trope of the inexperienced woman with an experienced man, a woman sold to a man for hefty bride-dowry toward her family, unlikely love, swearing, silent pining, neglectful husband, being a child bride in past, age difference, (lots of) eventual smut

WC -> 4.7k

A/N: This is the introduction chapter, as such it will kind of just be showing the dynamics set in the story, some of the rather spicy stuff will occur in the upcoming chapters, so look forward to those!

"Madam?"

You stared up from your palms with a look of alertness, having forgotten you were amidst others in a conversation. The boys that surrounded you, or rather, the two boys and one man who surrounded you stared at you incredulously, the man stepping forward and kneeling down in front of you as you sat on a dusty old crate that he had turned for you to sit down on. 

He pointed at your head and asked with a crooked smile,

"What's goin' on in there Honey?"

You flushed with embarrassment at your rudeness and turned away from the man's gaze, opting to stare at the discarded half-eaten apple in the corner of the stable house, probably the work of one of the boys.

"Nothing Elvis, I was just-"

He laughed softly and shook his head,

"Well that ain't good now is it?"

You stared back at him for a moment and then realized your words, before you could correct yourself he spoke again,

"And what did I tell ya 'bout callin' me that? Gonna get me in trouble with that husband of yours"

You smiled softly and remarked,

"The only thing that will get you into trouble is you calling me 'Honey', now you know he wouldn't like that, and I've told you to stop"

He shook his head and looked to the side, mumbling something under his breath before hovering his dust-covered hand above yours, not touching it, no, never that... But he hovered as closely as possible as he mumbled,

"Now don't you worry about little ole me, Honey."

You tilted your head as you stared down at the man kneeling before you, with a smile tugging at your lips you murmured,

"Who said I was?"

The two boys who worked the stables alongside their mentor, Elvis, began boredly kicking up some dust behind the man as the conversation had died down. One of the boys, Oliver accidentally made his kick too deep as it swung up and hit Elvis in the ass, making his body jump up slightly.

You and the boys began laughing as Elvis stood up and faced Oliver with a stone face. Suddenly it was just you and the other boy, Charles, laughing as Elvis chased Oliver around the stable. Eventually he'd caught up with the boy and lifted him by the back of his shirt.

"Kickin' me like I'm some steed, why I oughta..."

His teeth grit while Oliver yelped for help from you or Charles, being granted none because well, Oliver had it coming.

Elvis walked over to the wooden gates of one of the many horse stalls and hung the boy onto the corner of it by the back of his shirt. The boy yelped and hollered as Elvis stood next to him,

"Those two ain't gonna help ya till ya 'pologize, now whaddaya got to say?"

You stood up from the crate and shook your head with a smile as you made your way over, well aware that the head-strong 13-year-old Oliver wasn't going to apologize. As you reached up to attempt to grab him, Elvis eventually gave in and batted your small hands away,

"Now, now, you couldn't lift a canary out it's cage, I'll get 'im"

You smiled as the boy was lifted down, Oliver immediately ran to your arms, hugging you as you huffed out happily, "Oh poor baby"

As Elvis glared at the smug boy the sound of a creaky gate could be heard from afar. Elvis turned his head to the door leading out to the field and pointed to the boys,

"Oliver, Charles, go check on that, don't need another great escape of the horses"

The boys quickly ran out the door, Charles had started running before yelling back to Oliver, "Bet I'll beat ya to it" to which the younger boy whined as he chased him, "Hey no fair! No fair!!"

You laughed softly and shook your head, turning it to see Elvis' unimpressed stare. You shrugged and asked, "What?" as you made your way back over to your makeshift seat. He followed and lectured,

"Ya know you're too easy on 'em"

As you picked up the jacket that he had laid down for you to sit on so that your dress wouldn't get dust on it, you said pointedly,

"I'm not"

"Yeah ya are"

You turned to him with his now folded jacket in your arms and stared up at him as you replied,

"Am not"

He took a step forward, now staring down at you from almost straight above as he remarked,

"Are too"

As you stared directly up at him, and he down at you, the laughter of the boys outside and the sounds of nature had dulled into sweet background noise as you took in a familiar sound. Elvis' puffed style of breathing through his nose, like sweeps of waves in and out, heavy and heaving. You could almost feel the air leaving him dance along your nose and cheeks as the two of you stood so close.

With a gentle force, you pushed his folded jacket into his stomach and whispered,

"Am not"

As soon as the words left your lips you dropped the fabric into his grasp and quickly ran out the stables as fast as your heeled feet would let you. You could hear his playful huff for possibly one or two seconds, giving you time to just barely make your way out of the oak stable house until finally his vengeful arms caught you.

You squealed at a large pair of hands that wrapped around your waist just as your feet hit the grass.

Suddenly you were like a fairy, your feet lifted from the ground as you continued on your path, Elvis running forward a few feet more before spinning you in a circle while in his grasp.

You couldn't help the laugh that left your lips, and below it all you could hear, or rather feel Elvis laugh into the fabric of your dress that covered your stomach, you deemed the fabric too thin as you felt his huffs of laughter somehow spill through, a warm feeling covering the skin of your stomach as an equally warm feeling filled it.

It was wrong. Granted feeling this way with any man other than your husband was wrong, but with Elvis, it was on a different level. Because it felt so right. Much more right than it ever felt with your husband.

As you stared down at him, his arms still wrapped around you holding you up to a height taller than him, his head was angled in a way that made his chin poke into your stomach with how closely he held you. His eyes just barely poked out to look at you from below your breasts. 

Any other man would take a glimpse, a look. But not Elvis, and that fled you with a feeling worse than one you would've felt if he were like any other man. You weren't a woman in his eyes, you were simply a girl, neglected by her aging husband, wasting her days playing out in the field with the two boys or braiding the hair of the maid's daughters.

What a silly girl you must be to think a man like him would want you. When even your own husband wouldn't go near you.

He let out a breath as he set you back to the ground, you were quick to smooth out the pillowy skirt of your dress. As you turned to the loud joyous laughs of the two young boys you couldn’t help your smile as you watched them chase one of the horses that managed to escape after the latch on the field's gate had popped open.

You’d already been scolded twice by Alexander, your husband, for letting some of his best racing horses get loose.

You bit the back of your knuckle, noting to yourself that you’d need to approach the butler about that troublesome latch. As if he read your mind, he soothed without even sparing your worried gaze a glance, “I’ll get that fixed, a little ashamed I let it sit around ‘til now…”

You looked over to him and replied with earnest,

“Oh but you shouldn’t feel that way. I’m,”

You cleared your throat and held your head much higher as if that would help you feel more confident in your statement,

“I’m the lady of the manor, it is my duty to tend to that. I’ll approach the butler promptly”

Now he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at half of his mouth and a quirked eyebrow, he questioned with amusement,

“Aren’tcha scared of the butler?”

Whatever false confidence you attempted to instill in yourself, was now out the window as you visibly shrank in on yourself and mumbled a quiet, “yeah…”

He only laughed softly and put a hand on your back, assuring,

“I’ll fix it Honey, don’t worry”

You smiled up at him, and gave a sincere, “Thank you Elvis”

“Madam! Madam!”

The both of you turned your heads to Charles who was running quicker than a bolt of lightning, of course followed by the slower, smaller bolt of lighting named Oliver. As soon as Charles had gotten close he slowed to a stop, bending over to catch his breath with his hands on his hips, you would’ve laughed if he hadn’t said,

“The Mister is home, saw his carriage”

Your smile stalled and fell to a much smaller one. You sighed softly and walked forward petting Charles’ hair back before mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. With that small gesture and one last bidding glance to your little group that made this manor feel like home, you departed, making the long trek back to the manor to greet your husband.

As Elvis watched you go, his hand that had previously rested on your back fell to his side, the warmth in it that came from your body heat which bled through the fabric of your dress now engulfed into a tight fist. Knuckles white and all as he looked down at the grass below him.

He only allowed himself one moment of silence before he tipped the rim of his hat and ordered,

“C’mon boys, got some racks to clean, then I’ll take y’all out for supper in town”

~~~~~

“Oh dear Madam! Where have you been? Goodness is this dust?! Have you been fooling around in the dirt once more?!”

You grimaced as Mary the head maid fussed over your appearance and began to attempt to beat the dust out of your dress’ skirt, in the way a school professor would beat the chalk out of a rag at the end of his lesson. It didn’t hurt much as she attempted to whack it out of your skirt, what filled you was not pain but rather shame. You were still treated as if you were a child, but that could be because you proved to act like one.

“Oh dear, this will have to do”

She then ushered you toward the manor’s great hall, connecting 3 wings of the manor to the main entrance, and as if it were a perfectly staged play, as soon as your feet landed in front of the door where the wife should always be when her husband comes home, your husband had entered the door on cue.

You bent your head slightly and cupped your hands in front of you as his familiar voice filled your ears. You felt a tinge of hope, today was a special day after all. 

It was your anniversary. The big anniversary! Five long years, you hoped that this would be the year. You’d finally be able to show your worth as a woman, to give your husband the greatest gift of all, and show him that buying- no, that marrying you wasn’t a mistake. 

He married you. He didn’t buy you. If he did then all those nights you spent fretting over him, telling your dear friends at boarding school about him, and writing lists and lists of letters to send to him just to remain unanswered, it would all have been a waste.

Your love would have been a waste.

No, stop thinking like that, it was different. And today all your hopes and dreams of the perfect life with your husband would come to fruition. They had to.

He first greeted the butler, tossing the man his coat and asking the man to bring some cigars to his office. He then turned to Mary and asked her if she could fix him a bath. And finally there was you.

As he placed a hand on your shoulder you lifted your head, hoping to find his stare, instead you only saw him pass by, the hand on your shoulder only remained long enough for him to say, “I trust you’ve stayed out of trouble”, and walk right on through the house.

Leaving you alone in the entrance. 

You swallowed thickly and suddenly you were taken back to your first time greeting him, having only reached the marriable age of 16 just a few days prior before you were rushed into a marriage with him, all because your parents had been offered a hefty sum of money as a Bridal Token.

You remember that day, you’d been dressed in your best, and as soon as he got in the door, he passed you by. The maids at the time who stood in the hall gave hushed murmurs to each other consisting of, “Seems she isn’t quite suitable for a man’s taste yet.”, and, “She still has some filling out to do”, and of course the occasional, “Poor, pitiful thing…”

It only made matters worse that after only a month of your time here, you’d practically been fired from your job as lady of the house. You mixed up all the documentation of the servants and their time they’d spent working here, your first social event hosted as the lady of the house went down in flames, literally. 

You thought candlelight would add a tender ambience to your teaparty, and beforehand you’d made handkerchiefs for all the ladies who would be in attendance. So as you were handing them out you accidentally hovered the fabric of one just a little too close to the candle and it caught flames, you dropped it to the table, but then the tablecloth caught flames and it just continued to spread and spread.

Thankfully your life saver, and the man who in the future would be one of your only friends, had come to your rescue. He quickly put the fire out and offered you along with the other aristocratic ladies his greetings.

That would be the last time you’d see him for the next two years however, as your husband deemed it a wise choice to ship you off to an overseas boarding school. Leaving all of the town to gossip about what a horrid wife you must’ve made. Some rumors even spread that he’d had you killed on the way to the docks.

Of course that wasn’t quite the case. As you now stood to inform everyone who deemed you a dead woman that while you were away you had accidentally caused a few more fires. But those are stories for another time.

“Oh Dear,”

You lifted your head at the soft voice you recognized, it was Josephine, a maid who you’d become close friends with. She quickly marched over and pulled you into her arms, and in that gesture you felt secure enough to fall apart in her arms, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your chin on her shoulder. 

“Oh now, it’s alright… What does he matter anyway?”

You pulled back and stared at her wide-eyed putting firm hands on her shoulders as you warned frantically,

“J-Josie, if somebody hears you say that they would throw you out!”

Josephine continued on firmly,

“So what if they do? At least I’ll have remained true to my character, much unlike the rest of these living corpses”

She said the last part with a bit more volume as if to get her message across to the said corpses, but no one was in the room to listen. You shook your head as more tears tracked down your cheek, smiling fondly before tucking your head into her neck for comfort, mumbling a cherishing, “Oh Josie…”

After she held you for a few moments, she mumbled encouragingly,

“He’s bound to call you to his bedroom tonight to go over what’s happened in the manor within the last fortnite he’s been gone… Why don’t we gussy you up, and show him what a woman you are..?”

You held your breath as if it were hope you were desperately clinging onto. Then you asked, with a tinge of excitement,

“You think so?”

She pulled back to look you in the eye,

“I know so!! Goodness, we’ll need lots of time, I’ve gotta get you in the bath now Honey!!”

She clasped your hand in hers as she led you up the stairs, the two of you giggling girlishly with each click of your heels.

~~~~~

After hours of scraping off any sort of scent on your body, you’d been plunged into a bath filled with rose petals and goat’s milk, soaking for only a rest of 10 minutes before being pulled out. Josie roughly rubbed in all sorts of smelling oils that your husband had traded from a merchant from the East. 

Your hair was let down to grace your figure as you slipped into a long silk nightgown, with sheer lace accents in all the special places, of course to maintain your dignity you wore a long silk robe over it all as you walked through the hallways.

As the doors opened you met eyes with your husband, he sat on the bed in his own robe, reading glasses on and a few documents in hand. He noticed you linger shyly at the door, so with a beckoning hand he offered,

“Come in”

You nodded and quietly clicked the door shut behind you, pulling your robe close to you as to not reveal the surprise, only when you sat at the edge of his bed staring up at him, did you let the shoulders of the robe fall, revealing the thin straps of your nightgown that revealed much of your collarbones.

You stuttered his name,

“A-Alex”

He stared down at his documents as he asked a disinterested, “Yes?”

You bit your lower lip nervously before asking shakily,

“Do you know what tonight is?”

He hummed for a moment and offered plainly,

“It’s the 22nd my Dear”

You looked down at your fidgety hands, did he not remember? You scooted closer to him, sitting on the edge of his bed by his thighs now. He only bothered to notice you as you placed a hand on his thigh. You mumbled quietly,

“It’s our anniversary Alex…”

He stared at you as if you were a foreign sight, then his lips pursed before he said uncaringly,

“Oh, why I suppose it is…”

While you held his gaze you shrugged the robe off, leaving you only in your risqué nightgown. He looked back down at his documents and continued,

“Well, happy anniversary then Darling, what did you get- I mean, did you like what you got?”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, you knew he never personally got you anything, it was always up to his aides to buy you things for your anniversary, but it still hurt being faced with that ugly truth so directly. You sniffled softly.

“Mhm, t-the jewels were absolutely stunning Alex, I- I really loved them…”

He smiled softly up at you, placing a gentle hand on your cheek as he hummed,

“I’m glad”

He pressed a gentle peck to your cheek, but before he could pull back you put an eager hand at the back of his head, fingers buried into his brown hair with strings of gray beginning to form within it.

You maneuvered your lips onto his and leaned forward with him as his head fell back on the pillow. Your hand that rested on his thigh lifted to a new resting point which was his chest. 

For a moment you felt a sensation entirely new, his mouth had opened just slightly just enough for him to let out a gasp of surprise, but as soon as that was over his tongue had dipped between your lips.

He only allowed himself that for a moment before pulling completely away and keeping a tamed hand on your chest to keep you back.

“Darling this-”

You said his name with dire need,

“Alex..!”

“No!”

Your movements came to a halt as he raised his voice, your body had stiffened. You hated when he yelled. He stared at you and sighed as he noticed the change in your composure. Alexander brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

You stood up and backed away, keeping your eyes trained on him for a reaction, he only waved you away, “Just..! Leave, Darling, please leave… Now.”

You sniffled one final time and ran out the room, as you slammed the doors open in your leaving you saw your dear friend Josephine who must’ve been listening at the door holding her nose. You were too flustered, sad, and embarrassed to regard her as you went running down through the halls of the manor and to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

The night was long as you’d cried your heart out onto your pillow, Josephine was at your side as a faithful friend (and you made sure to apologize to her numerous times for hitting her nose with the door). And when morning finally did come, Josephine informed you that Alexander would be out on business for the next few days, as apparently something went wrong with a transaction he’d made when he was in the South.

But the days would continue on, as they had in the time he was gone. And for a while you could pretend that you didn’t have a husband, that you were just a rich, happy woman, entertaining her friends which consisted of a maid, a stable-man, and two stable-boys.

One of which had a weird way of showing his worry the next day:

“Jesus you look like one of  ‘em big-eyed bugs-”

Before Charles could continue his critique on your swollen eyes, Elvis had hit him in the back of the head and muttered, “Don’t take his name in vain you fool… And quit commentin’ on a lady’s appearance. Got a lot to say for someone missin’ a whole tooth up front there”

You smiled at Elvis which he returned back to you before continuing to carry a few wood planks over to the other side of the stable, some of the wood had begun to rot from the rainy season, which meant a tune up was needed.

You rubbed your eyes gently, murmuring more to yourself than anybody, “Do they look that bad?”

Sure you spent a large portion of the night crying, mainly from your own embarrassment rather than feeling sad that you didn’t lose your virginity, though that was a negative too.

You sighed softly as all the memories of the night before had replayed in your mind.

“Alright, are ya ready?”

You looked up at the familiar voice that seemed pointed toward you, and there stood Elvis, a flowy white blouse tucked completely back into his black trousers, it looked like he made some sort of attempt to dust off the dirt that had once been on it. In his hand he held a lead tied to the horse's bit ring.

You stared at him plainly and tilted your head in confusion, he scoffed and gently tapped the crate you sat on with his foot, “You’ve been mopin’ around all day. Really bringin’ the morale down for us workers ya know? So I’m doin’ us all a favor, I’m takin’ ya to town.”

Your eyes lit up, you hadn’t been to town in almost a year, the last time you went was to go shopping for the holidays. It’s not that you weren’t allowed to go, it’s only you never had someone to go with. Josephine worked long hours and when she wasn’t working she needed to tend to her mother, ah right you needed to send her mother something…

“...pie…”

The boys looked at you like you were crazy, and it was clear they’d been spending too much time with Elvis as he had the exact same, eyebrow-quirking expression slapped on his face as well.

You asked wide-eyed,

“Can we get pie while we’re in town? Josie’s mother has been under the weather and I’ve been wanting to send her something”

Elvis smiled fondly at you and walked around the horse, which was actually his personal horse, Rising Sun, to tie the lead around the other bit ring. 

“Sure Honey, we’ll go get pie, in fact let’s get three pies, one for Ms. Josephine’s mother, one for you, and one for me”

Charles chirped in pointedly,

“Ahem”

Elvis looked down at the rascal with a glare, you of course gave in and gently ruffled the boy’s hair, cooing softly, 

“And of course we won’t forget you two, what kind of pie would the two of you like?”

Oliver piped up with a mischievous smile,

“One for each right?”

Elvis sent the kid a look and mumbled,

“Don’t push it kid, we’re getting the two of ya whatever pie is on sale”

Charles elbowed Oliver and Oliver whined at the action, you laughed softly with a shake of your head as you reached to stroke Rising Sun’s mane. Elvis hollered to the boys as he finished settling the saddle,

“Now y’all keep an eye on the stables or there will be hell to pay and no pies”

You looked at Elvis with a fond smile, “You’re too hard on them”

“Nah, you’re just too easy”

With that he knelt down by the horse, resting his palms flat open on his knee for you to step on. You stared with an unsure gaze. “I’m wearing heels Elvis…”

He processed that for a moment, unsure of the difference it would make.

“And I’m wearin’ trousers? What difference does it make now?”

You sighed softly and reasoned,

“I don’t want to hurt your hand”

Elvis gruffed out, “What’s hurting right now is my other knee cause there’s a damn rock digging further into it as you dilly-dally. I’m not a piece a glass Doll, now c’mon”

You still looked hesitant. 

“Y’all sure are takin’ a while!!”

The both of you turned your heads to mischievous Oliver, Elvis hollered his way, “Now you hush up!”

He stood up abruptly and said, “You asked for it princess”, before picking you up, arms wrapped around where your thighs would be under your dress, you were practically slung over his shoulder, like he were some ogre kidnapping a princess.

You abruptly felt a change in angle and the feel of the saddle below you, Elvis crawled out from the layers of your dress and kept a steady hand on your waist as you tried to settle in. It’s been a while since you rode a horse, yes, but something seems different this time… Oh yes, now you remembered.

“Elvis, where’s the side saddle?”

The side saddle, it made it easy and was the couth way for women in dresses to ride a horse. Though now it seems the fashion of heavily layered dresses was going out the window, it was still helpful.

Elvis shook his head and informed, “Those things ain’t safe, they’re a thing of the past now Honey”

“W-Well how am I supposed to ride this?”

With a huff Elvis had mounted the horse, and you could feel his entire front against your backside. You tried to remind yourself it’s just casual. It’s just horse-back riding into town with a friend.

“It’s simple,”

As he settled in behind you, the two of you felt impossibly close. His mouth just happened to be inches away from your ear as he mumbled,

“All ya gotta do,”

One of Elvis’ arms wrapped around your waist to rest at your thigh, and the other barely had to reach over to rest at your other thigh, both of them connected as your legs dangled off the left side of Rising Sun.

You could feel the stubble of his cheek grace your own cheek as he peeked around to see his hands and the way you were positioned,

“Is spread ya legs”

This is more of a passion project that came to me, and I'm having so much fun with it so far! Plus, it's my first series so I'm very excited in general!!

[foreverdolly]

Dolly’s 2.5k Sleepover Celebration !!!

congratulations on 2.5k! you’re so deserving of it baby 💗 !

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

for my request: i would like daddy!dom elvis, number 12, number 55, and soulmates trope!

“I had a dream about you last night” and “I’ve never done this before…”

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompts: "i had a dream about you last night" and "i've never done this before. . . " with the soulmate trope.

word count: 2.1k

song: power of my love - elvis presley

notes/warnings: this is 70s elvis, so there is a brief mention of pill abuse. i might have taken a different direction than what you wanted, but i know that you're a hopeless romantic and thought that you might have enjoyed this a lil bit more. i hope you like it!

She was always so lovely. Big eyes and a beaming smile that made him melt like morning frost. She was the woman of his dreams- the one that made him fall in love without even knowing her. That was what a soulmate was supposed to do though, right? Make you fall instantly. He felt connected to her, almost as though there was this invisible string that connected the two of them. Elvis remembered the first time he told his parents about the dreams. His father was happy for him: Elvis had his passion with music and a newfound goal, which was to find her. 

She was always so lovely. Big eyes and a beaming smile that made him melt like morning frost. She was the woman of his dreams- the one that made him fall in love without even knowing her. That was what a soulmate was supposed to do though, right? Make you fall instantly. He felt connected to her, almost as though there was this invisible string that connected the two of them. Elvis remembered the first time he told his parents about the dreams. His father was happy for him: Elvis had his passion with music and a newfound goal, which was to find her. 

The same way that Vernon had found Gladys on that hot summer day during a church revival. Two months later they were skipping town, borrowing a ten dollar bill from their friend just to get married.  

“She was four years older than me. . . but I didn’t care ‘bout that none. She was the girl I’d been dreamin’ ‘bout all’a my life- and there she was, starin’ at me from across that ole’ linen tent. She was real. And she was mine. If I could’a married her right then. . . I would have.” 

Gladys wasn’t as happy for her son as Vernon had been. The “dreams” meant that he was growing up. He was shedding the skin of his boyhood, a reminder to his mother that Elvis wasn’t going to stay her baby forever. 

The bout of insomnia started right after he joined the military. It was ironic- in a macabre kind of way though. The only times he felt true happiness was when he was sleeping, and yet he barely got any shut eye. That was when the addiction started, he thinks. Most nights he couldn’t drift off at all without the help of a pill. He needed to see her to stay sane. He kept the bad habit up once he got back to Memphis, and without his mother there to scold him, there were no consequences to his actions. There was no one there to nag him or lead him in the right direction. Because even if he was strung out on sleeping pills and opioids, he was still making money. 

And boy, was he making money. 

The nights got lonely with nobody to spend them with. The house was too big to be empty the way that it always was. It hurt his heart. When Miss Mary removed her apron and turned off the oven to head home, the solitude began to sink in. The hallways got darker, the rooms felt larger, and not even the sound of his piano could drown out the silence. 

Vegas wasn’t any better. Elvis wasn’t just sinking- the man was drowning. All he could do was flail his limbs out, clawing for some solid land to cling to. His mother was gone, him and his father often fought like cats and dogs, and the Colonel wasn’t the same man that he had been towards the beginning of his career. All of his friends were on his payroll, the girlfriends never saw him outside of who he was up on stage, and it felt like Elvis was nothing but a figure. It was almost like he wasn’t a real person. Sometimes it was hard for him to even remember who he was outside of the flashy wardrobe and spotlights. 

Without a microphone in his hand Elvis was just a man. 

A lonely one at that. 

But the woman in his dreams was still out there. She was waiting for him, he could just feel it. He watched her grow up from his mind's eye, and saw the way that time had changed her. The musician knew that he would be more than willing to settle for a friendship- anything. Just so long as he could have her. 

And then it happened. That. . . that thing. 

His eyes searched the crowd just like they always did, wanting to connect with all of the unfamiliar faces. So he sang from the depths of his soul, his fingers trembling as he gripped the mic even harder in his large palm. Elvis wanted to reach out to all of them, and for everyone to see him. 

Really, it was a cry for help. 

Because he was still just that poor boy from Tupelo. And while he didn’t have to stand up on a crate to reach the microphone anymore, he was still putting on the same sort of show. Just a boy and his guitar- destined for greatness. Reaching out for love and acceptance. Desperate. Hungry. Searching. 

And then your eyes met. And Elvis remembered his father’s words. 

“If I could have married her right then. . . I would have.” 

It all clicked into place. 

The singer forgot who he was when he finally stumbled off stage, tearing at his sweat covered scarf and heading towards the doors that led to the casino ballroom. Out into the crowd. He couldn’t stand to be away from you for even a second. Not anymore. Not ever again. He wouldn’t be able to take it. Jerry had to yank him by the back of his white jumpsuit, keeping him from being surrounded by a screaming mob. They would no doubt tear him apart after he put on a show like the one that he had just performed. He could still hear the women’s shrill voices calling out for him. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were one of them. 

“I-I need. . .” Elvis was panting- breathless. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the show or the fact that he had finally found you. It could very well be both. “Orange dress. S-She was in the third row. Bring her to me.” He was practically speaking in riddles, but Jerry knew better than to question him. 

The dyed brunette didn’t want to leave the side stage. He wanted to wait right there until Jerry had finally found her, but he was being gripped at the elbows and numbly ushered over towards the employee elevator. 

Everything after that was a blur. He was taking a shower by instinct alone, and the same thing with getting dressed. By the time that he finally woke up out of his shocked stupor he was sitting on the couch, his wet hair dripping into his eyes and onto his clothed shoulders. There was a knock at the door, which roused Elvis from whatever daze he was in. 

“E.P?” It was Jerry’s familiar voice that called out to him. 

It had the man bracing his hands on his long legs as he stood up to his full height, practically stumbling through the penthouse suite. There was a possibility that you had slipped out of the hotel before Jerry could find you. Or. . . or maybe you wouldn’t want to see him. You could have turned Jerry away, and there would have been nothing he could do about it. The fact of the matter was that Elvis had been in the public eye for years. He had traveled all over the state, so why was this the first time he had ever seen you? He would have moved heaven and hell just to catch a glimpse of you. . . so why? 

But there you were in the doorway, your small frame dwarfed behind Jerry as he acted as a buffer to introduce the two of you. 

Your hands and knees were shaking. You stood there and stared like a deer in headlights as Jerry spoke your name, motioning a hand between the two of you. Elvis repeated your name under his breath, trying it out on his tongue. Tasting it. 

“Do ya wanna come in?” Elvis finally asked after what felt like an eternity of just staring at you. 

In his eyes you were the celebrity, and not the other way around.

You straightened out then, your back rim-rod straight as you tossed a nervous glance up at Jerry. There it was again. . . the fear that you didn’t want to see him. He was terrified that this might be the last time that he’d ever get to see you. It had his eyes searching both of your hands wildly, trying to see if there was a ring. 

What would he have done if there was one? 

Die, probably. 

“Ya don’t have t’come in. . . we can jus’ grab some supper-” 

“N-No. . . I’ll come in.” Your voice was soft and sweet. 

It was his first time ever hearing it. While your face was familiar, everything else. . . that was all new. It would have been horrifically dramatic, but the sound of it nearly had him weeping. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head before closing the door behind you, shutting Jerry out. 

“You know. . .” It was difficult to breathe in his presence, and as you looked up at him you found it hard to look at his face for too long. It was one thing to watch him on television or have his posters up in your room. . . but to stand in front of him was completely different. He was no longer a God up on a grand stage, but a man. A man that was staring at you with the softest eyes.

 You couldn’t help but admire his undone hair, his long bangs wet and hanging in his eyes. He was even more beautiful like this. He looked just as nervous as you currently felt. 

“Now, there’s no need’a be shy. Ya can talk’ta me, promise.” His black velvet voice surrounded you. His blue eyes softened on your face. 

And you believed him. 

“I dreamed about you last night.” It was hard feeling this vulnerable. He was yours, so there was no reason to feel so ashamed of opening up. The both of you were like two sides of the same coin. 

His lips twitched up into a smile, and he was quick to look off to the side and pretend to focus on anything else that wasn’t your lovely face. 

“If I had gotten any shut eye last night. . . then I definitely would’a dreamt of ya too.” And then it was your time to look all shy, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. 

He could have devoured you in one bite.

Elvis took his time comparing your small size to his. He started at your hands, then your height- the way you only reached his chest. You were like a little baby- his baby. The overwhelming urge to protect you was difficult to fight off. 

It was animalistic. Primal. 

“I-I’ve never. . . I’ve never done this before.” You finally spoke up after the silence had stretched on a bit too long for your liking. While you were enjoying the fact that you were finally in his presence, you were beginning to feel nervous all over again. 

He was a famous musician, afterall. He had called you up to his private room. Despite the fact that you were a virgin, you knew what this must mean for him. Still, he blinked down at you in confusion. After a few seconds of putting two and two together he spluttered, his eyes widening. 

“I didn’t call ya up here just’a have sex with ya, honey. I might not look it, but my mama raised a gentleman,” He reached out and took one of your hands in his. The feeling of your soft skin against his own nearly sent him to his knees. “I-I’ve been searchin’ so long for ya. . . I just wanna talk to y-” 

“I want to.” You spoke up, knowing you weren’t going to stay this brave forever. You’d never spoken to a man in such a lewd manner, yet here you were. Letting him know that you had gotten on that elevator all the way to the top floor, all while knowing you were going to have sex with him. Knowing and wanting it. 

“I just need to know that you’re not going anywhere afterwards. I won’t be able to do it-” 

“We could get married tomorrow if you’d like. I know a guy.” It was his turn to interrupt. 

It was the hurried, nearly panicked way he spoke to you that had your lips turning up into a grin. 

And then a laugh escaping you. 

“My daddy married my mama after just two months. I’m not sure that I could hold off for that long. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you.” 

You.

The girl that he had loved even in his adolescence. The woman in his dreams.

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

[drtyelvisfantasy]

Solider Boy💌🤍

parings: 50s!Elvis x female!reader

summary: Elvis has been stationed in Germany for 3 years, but to your love is the only thing that’s keeping you going

songs for the fic: Solider Boy- Elvis Presley, It’s Been A Long, Long Time- Kitty Allen, I Love You For Sentimental Reasons,m- The Righteous Brothers

The news of Elvis's deployment to Germany weighed heavily on you and Elvis’s hearts. You both sat together in your small living room, hands intertwined, grappling with the impending separation.

"I can't believe it's happening, El," you murmured, with tears in your eyes and your voice filled with sorrow.

"I know, baby. I wish I didn't have to go," Elvis said softly, pulling you into a tight embrace. "But duty calls."

She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him as if to delay the inevitable. "Three years... it feels like an eternity."

You looked up at him, your gaze searching his eyes for solace. "Promise me, Elvis. Promise me you won't forget. That you'll come back."

He stroked your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I promise, darlin'. I'll write ya every day. Call ya whenever I can. You won't feel like I'm far away."

As the day of departure drew near, your home was filled with bittersweet moments. As you were packing your bags tears started to well in your eyes,

“I can’t believe you’re leaving, Elvis”, you say while wiping away your tears.

“Aw, c’mon now. Don’t cry, baby. It’s gonna be alright.” He says to as he hold you in his arms.

“Why do they have to take you away from me for so long? It’s not fair.”

At the airport, your last moments together were a silent conversation of love, spoken through tearful gazes and tight embraces. "I love you, Elvis," with tears rolling down your face as you whispered, your voice quivering with emotion.

"I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything," Elvis replied, holding her as if trying to freeze time.

When Elvis saw you crying he immediately comforted you. “Hey, satnin don’t cry. The last thing I wanna see is a sad lil face as I’m leaving.”

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself? Please Elvis.”

“I promise baby. I’ll be safe. Take care of yourself too, okay?”

You nodded in agreement. Seeing him board that plane knowing you won’t see him for three years was the most heartbreaking thing ever. But his promises to write you letters and call you any chance he gets was the only thing kept you sane.

True to his word, letters from Elvis arrived regularly, each one a lifeline across the distance. Pages filled with his thoughts, his yearnings, his unwavering love for you. You cherished every word, reading and rereading, feeling his presence in every carefully penned line.

The phone became your sanctuary, the ring signaling the nightly connection across continents. "How's my girl doing today?" Elvis's voice would crackle through the line.

"I miss you, El," she'd reply, her voice filled with longing. "But your letters... they keep me going."

“I know, darlin’. Wish I could be there holdin’ you right now”.

“Me too El. But hearing your voice… it’s comforting.” You say wishfully.

“I reckon it’s the same for me, hearin’ your voice. Makes this place feel a little less lonely.” Elvis says with a smile on his face.

“You’re not causing a ruckus over there, are you?”, you say teasingly.

“Nah, just keepin’ my head down. But I’m countin’ the days ‘til I’m back home with you”

“Can’t wait for that day, El”.

“Me neither, baby. ‘Til then, just hold on tight. I’m right here, thinkin’ ’bout you every minute.”

Your conversation continued, each word spoken across the miles carrying the weight of the love the two of you shared, bridging the gap between them until the two of you could be together again.

Months turned into a year, then two. Yet, your love remained steadfast, growing stronger with each letter, each call, a testament to your unwavering commitment.

The day finally arrived when Elvis returned home. The anticipation, the nerves, the overwhelming joy—they all collided as you stood at the airport, scanning the crowd until your eyes met his.

Your reunion with Elvis was a whirlwind of emotions, tears, and laughter. You both held each other as if trying to merge into one, the both of your hearts finally reunited after enduring the agony of separation.

"You're home, El," you whispered, your voice filled with disbelief and joy.

"I kept my promise, baby," Elvis said, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm back where I belong—with you."

His embrace spoke volumes, reaffirming the love that had withstood the test of time and distance. As the two of you walked hand in hand, heading back to their shared home, you both knew that no amount of separation could diminish the love the two of you held for each other.

[mahg-stuff]

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

��

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

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

Now enjoy! & pls excuse any errors! 🫶🏻

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"El." Mumbled this time.

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

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

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

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

You moved around the bedsheet's to get closer.

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

You replied with furrowed brows, sounding like a child.

He takes notice of your contorted face.

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

He nudges you, and you relax your face quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Master List

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

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

[headfullofpresley]

𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4,1K

Summary: Your bacholerette party gets crashed by your fiancé in typical fashion, but even though the party is over doesn't mean that the night is.

Warnings: Elvis being jealous, reader not being jealous at all, strong language, alcohol consumption, smoking, Elvis being a lil tipsy, Elvis punches... someone 👀, sexual innuendos, i guess a teeny tiny bit of smut if you squint real hard (barely), fluff, small mention of Gladys and Jesse.

A/N: there's so much more in this story than the summary states but i suck at writing summaries woops. this was requested by my lovely @marriedtopresley, i hope you like it bby!! <333

masterlist

“We get the suite,”

“Nope,”

“Patsy, this wasn’t the deal- the boys get the suite, you girls get the streets,”

“Poor choice of words, West,” your husband’s-to-be cousin pointed out with a frown of her eyebrows before a smile returned to her features. “The answer is still no,”

You watched as they stood in the middle of Elvis’ suite, facing each other down in hopes the other one would break. You knew Patsy was just as headstrong as Red- it was like watching two wild animals circle around each other, waiting for the right moment to attack. It was downright fascinating.

“They’re still goin’ at it?” Elvis chuckled as he appeared next to you, fixing the collar of his dark crushed velvet coat. He had been wearing a full blown leather outfit minutes ago, similar to the one he wore for the special back in ’68, but he soon realised it was too hot for the Nevada climate. The velvet wasn’t much cooler but at least he was able to take some pieces of clothing off without being half naked- something he’d never do unless he was alone with you.

You were still in a bath robe, a glass of champagne in hand- it was only seven o’clock, but it was your bacholerette party… if Red and Patsy would ever give in, that was.

“Yup, and it looks like Patsy’s winning,” you chuckled as you noticed some hotel employees wandering in, beginning to build a tower out of glasses. Elvis let out a laugh as he slipped his arm around your waist, kissing your temple.

“It’s okay, I’ll tell Red you and the girls get the suite. Might do me some good to get out of this place on my last night as a free man,”

You knew he wanted a better reaction out of you other than the grin you gave him, but the thing was.. you weren’t jealous. Despite the amount of female attention Elvis got, it never bothered you. This irked Elvis more than he’d like to admit or that you were aware of, mostly because he could be jealous. Really jealous.

“Thanks, Elvis- now you guys leave, so we can get this party started!” Patsy exclaimed happily as she heard what he said, patting Red on the back who groaned and made his way over to Pat, his wife, to kiss her goodbye for the night.

“Wait, I don’t get to see what you’ll be wearing?” Elvis turned to you, pouting playfully as he circled his other arm around your waist as well to pull you against his chest. You shrugged, laughing as you hung your arms loosely over his shoulders, kissing his lips before you spoke.

“It’s just a simple dress- now the one I’ll be wearing tomorrow is way more fascinating. Patience, my love,”

He rolled his eyes as you tapped his cheek gently, grinning as he went in for another kiss. This time he parted his lips and you gladly welcomed the feeling of his tongue by doing so as well, deepening the kiss. He tasted like bourbon, which Sonny had made him take a shot of earlier, and cigars- it had you craving for more. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were ripped away from each other sooner than you liked but you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the guys pulling Elvis out of the room and to God knows where.

 

The guys knew Elvis didn’t like to be away from you for too long and in order for him to not turn grumpy, they kept pouring shots down his throat. He hated drinking, hated the taste of strong liquor, but after a few rounds the god awful taste simply wasn’t so awful anymore. He was actually having a good time.

After seeing Tom Jones’ show at the Flamingo Hotel, Tom joined their rowdy crowd and he was more than happy to drag Elvis along to the stripclub Sammy Davis Jr. who was present too pointed out. Now if Elvis would’ve been completely sober, he didn’t think he’d spend the night before his wedding in a stripclub in Vegas because he didn’t even like normal parties but he figured for once it would be fine. His friends seemed to have a good time and although he couldn’t stop thinking about what you were doing right now, the drinks caused him to let loose a little and not worry so much.

Until Red had to open his big mouth.

“Ah c’mon, EP- loosen up!” the ginger haired male laughed loudly, leaning back in his seat as he had a girl grinding herself down on his crotch, just like Elvis had. The only difference was that Red was greatly enjoying himself and Elvis was tensed to the bone, giving Red a glare instead of looking at the breasts that were right in front of his nose. Any man would consider him a nut job for not enjoying himself right now. “Y/N probably has a fireman’s ass in her face right about now,”

The rest of the group laughed along with Red, but as soon as they all saw the look on Elvis’ face, the laughter died down and the mood quickly shifted. It was obvious to the dancers too, who quickly sneaked away from the group of men.

“Strippers? There are strippers at that party?”

Elvis' hair was sticking up as if he had just got out of bed because of the girl that had been on his lap running her hands through it and if his voice hadn’t dropped a few octaves, the guys would’ve laughed at him. But they were all very aware of his jealous nature, especially when it came to you.

Sonny cleared his throat a little, planting his hand on Elvis’ shoulder as he let out a soft awkward chuckle. “It’s her bachelorette, EP. I’m sure she’s havin’ a blast and so should you,”

Elvis’ jaw clenched involuntarily as he whipped his head around to look at the man on his other side, pushing his arm off of him roughly. He shot up from his seat, fixing his hair by running his hands through it.

“I told you to have Patsy cancel that shit- I can’t believe she actually went through with it,” he exclaimed angrily, pacing back and forth in their VIP section. Most of the guys stayed silent, trying not to show their annoyance for having Elvis ruin the night because they already knew what was coming.

“We’re leaving,” Elvis barked, ripping open the velvet rope that separated them from the public. Joe immediately got up to follow, as did the others, because it wasn’t exactly safe for the singer to wander out the club alone, let alone be on the streets. He couldn’t even use a public restroom on his own due to crazy people hiding in every corner.

“So, what are you gonna do, huh?” Red sighed deeply as they all climbed into the limousine, looking at Elvis who poured himself a glass of champagne, downing it while scrunching up his nose. “Crash the girls’ party? You’re not even supposed to sleep next to Y/N tonight- you’re gettin’ married tomorrow, man,”

“To hell with all that traditional shit,” he grumbled, reaching for the bottle again as he tore off his glasses and put them atop his head- something he never did but now that he was slightly intoxicated, he didn’t care it made him look silly. “I’m sleepin’ next to my wife tonight, whether she wants me to or not,”

“She ain’t your wife yet,” Tom grinned at him, but before Elvis could comment, Red quickly pushed the champagne glass to raven haired man’s mouth, giving Tom a glare that made him shut right up.

 

 

You figured your bacholerette party would be small. Just you, Patsy, Pat, Judy, Barbara and the rest of the Mafia girlfriends, but an hour after you got dressed the champagne tower started flowing and more people started to arrive in the hotel suite. They were all female, such as Nancy Sinatra and the girlfriend of the hotel’s director, so you didn’t mind it all too much.

Compared to Elvis, you liked parties, so it didn’t take you long to get in your usual party mood and were steadily on your way to get intoxicated. But even if you were sober, you would’ve been just as excited about the stripper that barged into the room.

Your fiancé was going to have a whiplash if he was aware of your current activities, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

The stripper was hot, naturally, and you happily welcomed it when he pushed you down on a chair in the middle of the room and danced to the music blasting through the room. All the other girls were happily cheering and snapping pictures of the moment the man in front of you grabbed your hands and ran them down his muscles and down over his crotch which was still covered by a pair of firefighter pants. You screamed in excitement, hiding your mouth behind your hands as he took the little crown you were wearing off your head and replaced it with his hat before he pulled his suspenders down his bare shoulders.

You happily obliged as the stripper grabbed your hands and moved them to his pants, signing for you to do undo them. Your fingers moved swiftly as you flicked the button open and pulled the zipper down, Nancy cheering you on as she stood behind you.

Not long after the pants were off and your hands had been forced onto the man’s ass, it sounded like the door was nearly kicked in, followed by gasps coming from several girls in the room.

 

As soon as Elvis stepped into the room, followed by a panicked Memphis Mafia, and saw the stripper wrapping your legs around his waist, he felt anger boiling in his veins. Red and Sonny weren’t fast enough to hold Elvis back, because he was already striding toward you- you gasped in shock as the stripper was ripped off you and you were pretty sure your eyes were the size of saucers at the sight of Elvis’ fist connecting to the other man’s jaw.

“Elvis!” you screeched as you shot up from your seat, nearly stumbling on your heels as you grabbed his jacket and pulled him off the dancer. The half naked firefighter got back on his feet, grabbing his pants to get the hell out of the room. Elvis noticed the hat you were wearing and pulled it off, throwing it after the stripper- the plastic hit him right on the back of his head.

Joe quickly followed the poor man to do some damage control.

“Everybody out!” Elvis yelled, the volume of his voice roaring above the music and making everyone shoot into action as they left the room as quick as possible. Patsy flashed you an apologetic smile and you responded to it with one of yourself, signing to her that you’d call her later.

Red was the last to leave the room, which he did with a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes, which Elvis luckily didn’t see.

 

You didn’t want to laugh, honest to God you didn’t, but you couldn’t hold it in due to the drinks you had consumed tonight. Not only did your party last only about two hours, the man that you were marrying tomorrow had just punched a stripper. How in the world could you not laugh?

“I don’t think this is funny,” Elvis snapped at you as he threw his coat on the bed before sitting down at the end of it.

You placed your hand over your mouth as you sat down next to him, giggling in your palm. “I mean..” you inhaled a deep breath, putting your hands in your lap as you looked at him. “Aside from the fact that you ruined my party, it is kinda funny,”

“Did you know there was gonna be a fuckin’ stripper? You knew, didn’t you? And you let it happen anyways,”

You raised your eyebrows at him, even though he barely looked at you. His rings that he was twirling around his fingers repeatedly seemed to be more interesting to him at the moment. You could see by the way his jaw was clenched so tightly and the angry frown on his features that he really did not think this was funny. You knew he was jealous, no matter how silly it sounded in this moment, and while you usually teased him with it you knew that wouldn’t be the best option right now.

But he really did crash your party and you were genuinely having a good time- now you were getting a little annoyed as well.

“No, I didn’t know, Elvis- that’s the whole point of a bachelorette party. The girls took care of everything,” you told him, crossing your legs and folding your arms as you looked at his glasses on the floor which he lost when he took a swing at the stripper. “And you smell of booze and cheap perfume, it’s not like you and the guys were having a cup of coffee downstairs,”

Elvis turned his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. He moved closer to sit up against you, his arm snaking around your waist to let his hand rest on the side of your thigh. “Why? Are you jealous?”

You snorted, looking at him as you tilted your head a little. He leaned down into you a little more, his grin growing wider as a smile spread across your own face. As soon as you spoke, that smug grin was wiped right off his face.

“No, baby, I’m not,”

“Why not?” he exclaimed in frustration as he watched you get up and kick your heels off, picking up his glasses from the floor.

“I don’t know, I’m just not,” you shrugged a little, putting on his glasses as you turned back to him and pointed a finger in his direction. “But I do think it’s unfair you crashed my party and act like a baby just because there was one stripper here while you were in a club full of naked ladies,”

“So you are jealous?”

“No,”

He groaned as he let himself fall back on the bed, his arms spread out as he looked up at the helium balloons that floated against the ceiling. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you walked over to him, making him look at you as you crawled on top of him and straddled his waist. You pushed the sunglasses up in your hair, placing your hands on his chest as you smiled at him.

“Why do you want me to be jealous so bad, El?”

He sighed deeply as he placed his hands on your thighs, fingertips disappearing underneath the fabric of your short dress so he could let his digits absentmindedly caress your skin.

“It’s not like I want you to be-well… sometimes. Damnit honey, I don’t know. Bein’ jealous means you care and I guess I just would like to see the roles reversed sometimes,”

You laughed softly as he pulled his hands back and pushed his elbows in the mattress, looking up at you with a slight pout on his face. You bit your lip as you suddenly slapped him across the face- not hard enough to leave a mark or anything, but enough to make him look at you with wide eyes and shock written over his features.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

You climbed off of him, pacing the room as you threw his glasses on the couch by the tv. You still weren’t jealous, but if acting as if you were was going to make your man happy, then that’s what you’ll do.

“You went to a stripclub?” you exclaimed in feigned anger, making sure it looked as real as possible. You seemed to be a good enough actress because Elvis sat up again, gawking at you in confusion. “You’re disgusting, Elvis- I don’t believe you! How was it, huh? Did you touch any of them?”

You walked over to him, taking him by surprise once more as you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts. “Did theirs feel.. better? Bigger? No, don’t tell me- I don’t think I can take it,” as soon as you put the back of your hand against your forehead dramatically and looked away from him, the both of you couldn’t hold back your laugh. Yours was interrupted by a squeal as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down on the bed with him.

“You little shit,” he laughed as he hid his face in your neck, trapping you underneath him on the mattress. “I hate you,”

You giggled as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in your embrace while trapping him just as much by snaking your legs around his waist. As he pulled his face out of your neck, you moved your hands down his shoulders and to his chest, opening a few buttons of his blouse.

“You don’t hate me- you love me and I love you, El. Just because I’m not jealous doesn’t mean I don’t care, you know that, right?”

He nodded, smiling down at you as he caressed some hair out of your face before kissing your lips. “I know, baby, I was’ just bein’… stupid,”

“That’s what you get for drinking whiskey,”

He frowned, laughing softly. “How’d you know?”

“I can taste it and you got a mean right on whiskey,”

A smirk spread across his face as he thought back about the stripper he knocked down without blinking a little while ago. He was sure Joe would take care of things and that fucker deserved it, touching his lady the way he did, so Elvis didn’t really feel guilty or whatsoever.

“I got him good,” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, making you laugh as you tilted your head a little, welcoming his lips in your neck. You grabbed his hand, letting it wander down in between your thighs and right into the panties you wore underneath your dress.

“That good, huh?” he grinned against your skin, a moan rolling off your tongue as he did not wait for a response and slowly pushed a long finger inside of you, making you forget all about your friends who were probably continuing the party elsewhere.

 

“What if we got married right now?” Elvis questioned, blowing out the smoke from his cigar in circles before tapping off the ashes in the ash tray in your hand.

You frowned as you looked at nothing in particular in front of you, resting against the man’s chest while taking a drag from your own cigarette. You turned to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table, laughing softly.

“It’s 2 in the morning,”

“So? We’re in Vegas, there’s a chapel on every corner,”

You slowly sat up to turn around and face him, pushing out your cigarette in the ash tray. You exhaled the smoke in the other direction, still holding up the sheets to your chest.

“We’re getting married in a few hours, El,” you reminded him to which he laughed at softly, shrugging his shoulders as he placed his cigar in the ash tray and took it out of your hand, placing it next to the alarm clock.

“I know but tomorrow’s gonna be so busy with everyone there and we have this damned schedule to follow- tomorrow won’t belong to us alone, but we still have the night,”

The excitement of his crazy idea was rubbing off on you and as he slipped his hands into yours, you shook them wildly.

“You’re right, you’re so right but.. is this even possible? I mean, legally,”

“Baby, this is Las Vegas,” he reminded you again with a laugh. “Anything is possible,”

You nodded as you laughed, kissing him over and over again. “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s get married,” you said as you jumped up from the bed, running into the walk-in closet. “I have the perfect outfit!”

 

You wore a short baby blue skirt with a matching long sleeved blouse, putting the hood on and letting your hair drape over the shape of your breasts. You had a traditional dress for tomorrow, but what you and Elvis were doing right now was anything but traditional and you were excited about it- maybe even more excited than for the big day tomorrow.

He wore his crushed velvet outfit, including big golden belt and sunglasses and all- true Presley fashion.

Despite the excitement of it all, you tried to convince Elvis to bring one or two of the guys for safety, but he wouldn’t hear it. He didn’t want anyone else but you and him to know about this- tomorrow he was going to officially promise his loyalty to you and make you his wife in front of family, friends and probably way too many reporters. He was pretty sure everyone would want his attention at all times and he wouldn’t spend the amount of time alone he wanted with you until the honeymoon, so this little pre-wedding was going to be good and it was going to happen.

He had made up his mind and he wasn’t going to change it.

And you didn’t want him to, and even if you did, it was too late now. You and Elvis were already sneaking through the hotel and into the garage like a couple of teenagers, driving off to a chapel that wasn’t crowded by drunk people who were going to wake up married to a stranger tomorrow morning.

You and Elvis found one that seemed quiet enough way on the other side of the city, close to the desert. There were barely any people around and you were surprised they were open and doing services at all, but the few people that worked at the chapel sure as hell weren’t going to close up shop now that Elvis Presley walked in.

Getting married in a tiny chapel in the desert was hardly a girl’s dream, but you were over the moon as you got married to the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You’d have your ‘real’ wedding tomorrow and although you didn’t have rings to give each other now, you didn’t care where Elvis and you would promise your love to each other.

You’d follow him anywhere he’d go and you were hundred per cent certain he’d do the same for you, because it simply didn’t matter where in the world you were- as long as you were by each other’s sides.

 

“Sorry about the lack of cake, Mrs. Presley,” Elvis grinned from beside you as you sat on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars that twinkled in the dark sky. There were two that flickered extra hard and both you and your husband had decided those were Gladys and Jesse, watching over you and being part of your silly and chaotic night.

You laughed softly as you handed the bottle of champagne the workers at the chapel gifted you to him. “There’ll be plenty of cake tomorrow, my husband,”

He smiled down at you as you hooked your arm through his and snuggled up to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He took a few small sips from the bottle, kissing your head as he pushed it back in your hand. He did not like the taste of champagne at all and he already had too much of it tonight, so you were the one who drank most of it.

“I like the sound of that- my wife,”

“Me too,” you grinned as you raised your head to look at him, pecking his lips. “I love you,”

“I love you more,” he said in between kisses, pulling your legs across his lap before resting his hand on your thigh. You placed the bottle behind you, folding your hands behind his neck as you wrapped your arms around him.

“How much more?” you smiled playfully as you looked at him when he pulled his head back in his neck a little, pretending to think about it as he looked up at the sky.

“To the moon,”

“And back,” you immediately responded with a giggle, kissing him once more as soon as he turned back to you.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

When it came to you, Elvis never hesitated- out of everything in his life, you had always been the most steady and you were always going to be.

Just like that big, bright moon above that shone on you and him in this moment, you were his rock and he was yours.

 

The vow goes; “to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

But for you and Elvis, you wholeheartedly believed that you’d be together even after living out a happy and adventurous life- with your souls entangled the way they were, it was inevitable.

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

[asshlyyyy]

Lil Baby Presley (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Hi! This is heavily inspired by @fandom-imagines​. Is this based off a resident evil fic? Fuck yeah it is. You can’t stop me. I love Resident Evil. You are more than welcome to read what inspired this. I will leave a link here.

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Leaving Elvis, Like... very little angst, fluff, spelling and grammatical errors most likely

Word Count: 1.8k

As Elvis pulled open the door to Graceland, he felt as if something was off. He closed the door behind him and peeked around the corners. You weren't in the living room... you weren't in the dining room. Where were you?

"Y/n?! Darlin'?!" Elvis called out to you. When he didn't hear your voice back he started to get worried. He took a look around the house. Mostly to see if you were hiding somewhere within the property, or if there was a note.

After having searched the whole entirety of the house, and backyard, you were nowhere to be found. Not to mention there was no note. He was certainly starting to freak out. There had to be a reason you weren't home. You had just spoken to him last night.

Sure, he was home way earlier than he told you he would be... but... you didn't mention going out the night before. He didn't want to think that you were just leave him, but you weren't anywhere to be found. All he could do is sit and wait. 

"Y/n... are you sure you want to do this?" Your friend asked with a soft-spoken voice. "I mean... he loves you like crazy."

With your gaze fixated out the window, you let out a sigh. You closed your eyes and turned your head to face your friend. As you opened your eyes, you started to speak. "He's always busy, Bunny... I can't just force him into parenthood."

Bonnie knew there was no way to change your mind. You had seem to have already made it up. She just wished that you wouldn't push yourself through this by yourself. "Well... then your secret is safe with me... I promise."

While Bonnie didn't want to promise such things, she knew that she had to. You needed a friend right now, and lords know that your family would be upset with the whole matter. You were essentially homeless right now, and you had no idea what to do. 

"I should get going. I have to get to my brother's house and ask him if I can stay there."

"Why not stay at mine?" Bonnie looked a bit hurt. You trusted her enough with your news, and yet you wouldn't come stay with her?

"Because you're married. You guys are still in the honeymoon phase. My brother is married with kids. I'm basically a free babysitter to him. Plus... It will help me get ready." Bonnie sighed once more and nodded. It seemed like you had it all planned.

So, you got up and reached for your coat. You wrapped it around your frame and pushed your arms through the sleeves. You looked at your best friend and sent her a smile. "Thanks for coming on short notice, Bunny. I appreciate it."

"Of course, you're my best friend. Call me if you can't stay at your brother's okay? I will convince Scotty to let you stay." 

A light chuckle escaped your mouth and you shook your head. "I'll give you a call nonetheless."

"I love you."

"I love you too," you said softly and walked out of the diner. You looked down at your watch to catch the time and let out a breath. Elvis should be on his way home now. He was supposed to be home later tonight. Today was your last day to leave. 

You walked over to your car and got in. A gift from your boyfriend you frowned gently. You loved Elvis will all your heart, and generally, you didn't want to leave. But, you didn't want him to put a stop to his career to help raise a kid. This was just the best option in the end.

After staying with your brother for quite some time, you ended up finding a place of your own. It wasn’t the best, but it was enough for yourself and your child. Who was now… roughly two years old. He was quite a rascal that’s for sure. 

Of course, he just had to look exactly like Elvis. Why wouldn’t he? It made all the sense. You leave the only one you had ever loved, and your child ends up looking like him. You weren’t exactly complaining, because he was quite a cute papa. Floppy blond hair, dazzlingly blue eyes. He was the cutest toddler you have ever seen.

Yet, you were still lonely. Not to mention, it did get difficult at sometimes. Having to work and be a mother. It was all just one big… mess at some moments. You just wanted to be able to stay home. Be a stay-at-home mom, and not worry about the bills. You missed Elvis, and it sucked that your baby had to grow up without a father. 

As you sat on the blue seat near the phone, you picked it up and rested it against your ear. You rang the number for your best friend and waited for her to answer. You looked down at Austin as he played around with his toys.

“Hey Billy, can you answer that!” Bonnie called out to her husband. 

“Sure thing!” Scotty replied back. He made his way to the phone on the wall and answered it. “Hello?”

You let out a breath and hung up immediately. Scotty was still a friend of Elvis, no matter the fallout the two had when the band broke apart. If Scotty knew you called, then it would just give everything away.

“Who is it?” Bonnie wiped her hands on her apron.

“I don’t know… They just hung up. No one does that.” Scotty shook his head in confusion. Bonnie put two and two together and immediately knew that it was most likely you. 

“Oh don’t worry about it, must’ve been a wrong number.” Bonnie laughed nervously and shook her head.

“You know something, don’t you… Bought, Y/n. Don’t you lie either. You two are best friends.” Scotty folded his arms against his chest. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout.” She replied and walked back over to the kitchen. Scotty followed after her. A look of determination on his face. Whatever secret she was keeping, he would get it out. “Bunny, don’t you lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” she shrugged in return. Scotty let out a sigh and took the wooden spoon out of his wife's hand. Bonnie looked at him and glared. She was just trying to be a good housewife, and her husband was getting in the way.

“Was that Y/n who just called?” He asked.  Bonnie shrugged her shoulders and turned to work on something else. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. How could I possibly know? It could’ve been some teen's prank calling. I don’t fucking know.”

“You never swear, so what’s up.” Scotty trapped her between himself and the counter.

With nowhere to go, Bonnie met Scotty’s eyes. “I just can’t… I can’t tell you.”

“And why not?” He asked in return. He just wanted to put Elvis at ease. It’s better to know she left, instead of just dying. 

“Because you’ll just go off and tell Elvis. I’m not stupid.” Bonnie rolled her eyes. She folded her own arms against her chest at this point. She hated being interrogated, especially by her own husband. 

“Maybe so, because he thinks she’s dead!” Scotty admitted. That was the first time, Bonnie heard about that. She always just thought that Elvis thought she left. Not that she was simply just… dead. 

“She’s not dead. She's alive and healthy. Just… preoccupied.” Bonnie replied the best she could, without revealing too much. Though, by the need, she knew she would spill the beans. 

“She moved on? She just left him?” Scotty raised his eyebrow. 

“She was pregnant! She didn’t want to bare Elvis with a kid all right?!” Bonnie admitted. 

“She’s what?” Elvis’ voice erupted between the two. When did Elvis get there? And how did he get in? Then again, Scotty and Bonnie left their door unlocked all the time. 

Both Scotty and Bonnie both turned their heads toward the rockstar. Elvis had been a mess ever since he came home. Sure, he still pushed himself to do movies and occasionally perform, but he was still heartbroken. 

“I well- you see- uh-“

After you hung up the phone you turned your attention toward your son. You sat down on the ground and pulled him into your lap. With a smile on your face, you kissed his cheek repeatedly. A small giggle left his mouth, it just made you extremely happy. 

You would have to call Bonnie back at some point, but for now, you weren’t going to call. Maybe for a few days… weeks… you just didn’t want to be called out. The last thing you need is for Elvis to find out. 

After quite some time you heard a knock on your door. You looked at Austin and gave his head a kiss before you pushed yourself up onto your feet. You walked over to the door and opened it up. Before you could fully see what was at the door, they pushed it open and walked in. You blinked in disbelief and looked at the person.

“I- Elvis-“ You couldn’t even believe your eyes. Elvis was standing inside your apartment. Did Bonnie snitch? That fuckin-

“Y/n, wh-why? I mean I just- Why?” Elvis didn’t seem to be angry, but you knew at some point that anger will come out eventually. You let out a sigh and closed the door. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your career, Elvis. It’s as simple as that.” You replied and shook your head. 

“That wouldn’t have mattered. I would’ve made it work. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was scared okay? We were both still pretty young and everything was just happening at once. You were in California most of the time-making movies. It’s not exactly the best-case scenario.” You pointed it out to him.

“I would’ve had you come live with me up there. Darlin’… You shouldn’t have been going through this alone. I was a part of this. I should’ve been there to help.”

“No, Elvis… You should have followed your dreams. You should still continue to follow your dreams.”

“Do you know what it was like coming home? No note… no one in sight. I thought ya fuckin’ died.” Elvis admitted. You frowned softly and felt your eyes start to water up. Maybe you should’ve left a note.

“Look, I’m sorry Elvis… I just… I didn’t want to risk anything.”

“Do you still love me?”

“What- Elvis- of course, I do. I left because I loved you. I didn’t want to see you throw your whole life and career away. It was a decision I had to make and it fucking sucked.”

Elvis let out a shaky breath and walked closer to you. When you didn’t back away he wrapped his arms around you. “Please come back… Please… I want to be a father… I want to be a husband… Please.”

Hearing Elvis starting to cry broke you. This was exactly why you had to just leave. If you saw him upset you knew you would change your mind. You returned his embrace and ran your hands through his hair.

“I will… I will.” You replied softly and leaned your head against his. You closed your eyes and let your own tears start to fall.

Want to join my taglist? // Let me know If I spelt any wrong! I have updated my form for my taglist. You will be tagged under everything now in that selected fandom/person. Just makes my life easier.

Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @mirandastuckinthe80s, @mommy-maia, @yagirlalexx, @alligator-person, @diorxmimi, @anangelwhodidntfall, @pumkiinpasties, @djconde58, @21bruhs, @girlblogger2002, @dollfaceyourfear, @homebodybirkin2003, @dark-as-love, @pandora-journey, @hsstylesrings, @4everrmore, @bewitched-tales, @butlersluvbot, @curatedbyemily, @gyomei-tiddies, @wandawiccan60, @re3kin, @passengerjett, @neepo, @vane28282, @emilykolchivans, @gothantoinette, @gruffle1, @annamarie16, @misacc08, @marchingicenotes7, @callthedarknessdown, @domaniquessidehoe, @gay-af-satan, @skinnypantsmcgee, @sassyblazecloud,  @lordandmistress, @nuo0n, @coldonexx, @adoreyouusugar, @aliciaelle47, @danitheedanimal, @raefoxiegirl, @cobra-kaii, @rylee-durhxm, @crabat-the-queen, @austinbutlersgirlfriend, @hopefulinlove, @aradevil​, @laperceval​, @xcallmetaniax​, @londonalozzy​, @mslizziesblog​, @gloomynigvts​, @randompointlessbeauty​, @nora-nexus-34​, @jazmin2211​, @kittenlittle24​, @moonbird1507​, @bobthefishiesworld​, @cevans-winchester​, @luckyevansstan​, @noorreads​, @normatural​, @hauntedarchivesx​, @thatcrazyfangirl22​, @amiets2​, @myguiltypleasures21​, @poppet05​, @xcallmetaniax​, @fullmetal-falcon​, @kaitaesupremacy​, @rainydayz101​, @asd-n-adhd-fox​, @eliseinmemphis​, @adaydreamaway08​, @stitchattacks​ @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s​, @dkayfixates​, @fa1ryprincess222​, @austinstyles​

[elvisalltheway101]

Just Pretend; 60s elvis x multiple readers 🫣 ‼️ 18+

Summary: Elvis still yearns for the night, months later he can still capture the delicious moments. All snuggled and alone, he wears himself out, just thinking about it.

author’s note: by the help of @i5uckersblog this was possible! I thank for their help 🤧, and I hope you all enjoy! this has been waiting too long in my drafts, and I ain’t proud 😓

••••••••••••••

he could just call up a woman to make love to just as he did all those other nights. But what would that add up to?

Hugged and wrapped completely in his silky, velvety blue sheets that lay about in his hotel room. The silence empty and soft, it only brings him back to that night. Ladies’ night.

How well he was treated both comfortably and sexually satisfied. It’s not that he didn’t get a good blow every sex, but that was different.

He was so sensitive to the slender, manicured digits that pumped his cock so tenderly and tongues that dove between his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the time he’s came so hard, let alone so much since back in his youth.

Only for that sweaty, stuffy night to be resolved in such careful and loving attention. He hums softy in a trance as he flutters his eyes close,

imagining that he was in the same bath water as he was months ago, being lathed in soap and his hair scrubbed bubbly and fluffy while the suds and soapy water around him was rippled while the other ladies that treated him so deliciously that night continued their after care, and massaging his silky, wet skin.

he moans softly in both present bed and back in the tub, treated so tenderly and gently. his eyes fluttering close, as his cock soft and pretty lays on his tan thigh, to be gingerly pulled back and rinsed softly from the sinful filth.

They helped him out of the tub as if he was a wandering toddler, despite even being inches higher than their poofy hair that was settled and flattened.

he was carefully pat down with dovey kisses and the white, dry cotton towel. The ladies kisses were pressed with such awe and admiration, not with any expectation or desire, knowing he was already spent, but by genuine charity.

Slipping on the smooth, ironed polyester pajamas that wore a pretty navy blue pattern, he was tucked in tightly to his hotel bed. Surprisingly it was fastly changed and silky cool, from the wet, heated moments just earlier on.

Being tucked in with the red crimson weighted blanket to his chin, he’s cradled and spoiled by soft whispers and hums of songs. He didn’t remember the last time he was sang to, but it was so beautiful. As angelic as an angel’s choir that sat upon heaven’s dust. Drifting off so swoon to dream land.

Yawning cutely, and mimicking the swaddling way they had tucked him, his eyes felt droopy in the present tense now, oh how he yearns and reaches for that ladies night.

but until then,

he’ll just pretend.

••••••••••