#elvis the KING

[elvisvideos]

Elvis greeting fans and signing autographs. 1968

[elvisbooty76]

[cherrycolaride]

Hot summer days, rock and roll

The way you'd play for me at your show

And all the ways I got to know

Your pretty face and electric soul

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

~Lana Del Rey

won't stop with the lana quotes cause she's such an elvis girlie and so many of her songs are referring to him, i feel this too much 🥹

there's even speculations going around hat her "young and beautiful" is kinda the answer to e's young and beautiful and it makes so much sense, don't know if i'm to deep into the rabbit hole

[presleyheart]

Hello!! I was wondering if I could request a 70s Elvis X reader fic where before a concert, Elvis is really nervous(stage fright) and he doesn't usually tell reader that he is so after a bit of observing reader finally comforts him?

Take all the time you need, of course!

OMG OMG!!! Of course! I'd love to do this ^^ I feel like this is on par w/ Elvis having anxiety!! My first request!!! YAY! Sorry if it's bad lolol it's early in the AM but I'm so eager to write for you <3 So sorry if it's short, too.

"Walk A Mile In My Shoes" https://open.spotify.com/track/3TYiPU151GF7VASDPzk74Y?si=858262a5d85c419c Pairing 70s!TTWII!Elvis x gn!reader TW: mentions of !! Anxiety, light swearing, skin picking, throwing up !! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- It was 1970. Elvis was filming a new film, more-so like a documentary. Cameras were following you two around everywhere. No matter where Elvis went there was already a camera. He's absolutely been on edge. Every time you'd ask him, he'd say he was fine. You trusted him. What's the worst that could happen? Elvis has always sort've been a busy uptight man whenever it comes to concerts. This shouldn't be any different. ______ ______ You were tending to things backstage.

Everything was going perfectly. You saw Elvis come out of his dressing room; he decided the jumpsuit of tonight would be his Fringe Jumpsuit. No cape. Once he had exited, you could see by his posture something was off.

"Satnin." He had said, he went straight for you. "Hm?" You responded, looking at him. He was slightly taller than you so you had to look up to him a bit.

He immediately pulled you into a soft embrace. You could hear his heart thumping in his chest. "What's wrong?" Is all you could have mustered. He had you buried against him tightly.

He hadn't made a response. He was breathing lightly. He eventually pulled away after a few moments.

"Nothin'.. I just wanted to hold you'a moment." He responded. He was absolutely in shambles over something.

He had started picking at his face a bit and he looked almost queasy inside of his jumpsuit. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and hide from the looks of it. He was a mess. His eyes were red

"C'mon." You said. You had looked him up and down as you drug him to a spot to sit backstage.

"Y/N?-" "No." "Whad'dya think you're doin'?"

The expression on his face and posture said it all. You could tell how sensitive he was. His friends kept looking over but you shot a mean glare. They'd rather stay out of it rather than hear you "bitch up a storm" as they put it.

"Your heart is about to beat out your chest, Elvis." You answered. He looked around at the suffocating room pathetically, pawing at his seat. He twiddled his thumbs and just kept looking away shyly.

"Tell me what's going on." You demanded. Elvis failed to communicate his emotions too often.

You had been together for almost 3 years now and he was still nervous to express certain emotions. His past relationships had really caused emotional scarring on him.

"...'m anxious.. I-I..I don't understand why. I been doin' this for 'bout 16 years." He stated. He couldn't bear eye contact. He sighed softly. "It's all of these damn cameras, baby. I promise I'm okay. Jus' bein' a damn cry baby. Lem'me go"

You felt like you were ready to scream. He was very clearly anxious and tired. He looked ready to throw up, almost. He also couldn't bear to even look at you. Like he was ashamed to have feelings. It was heartbreaking.

"Look'ah me." You said, kneeling down in front of him. "What?" He says pitifully. He looks into your eyes. You could see how exhausted he was. There was no excuse for this.

You wished he could rest for only a moment, but sadly Colonel has him booked back to back. He had been acting off all week since his first concert of the month. It was like watching someone go insane, and it drove you crazier than him when he didn't even tell you.

"It's okay to be nervous.. It isn't okay not to tell me." "I-I know," He stammered; "Jus' hate bein' a burden.. y'know this"

You sighed and gently kissed him. You let him lean his head into your shoulder. He's always been a sucker for attention. He's needed someone like you after his mother had passed.

He needed love. And you were beyond certain you could give it to him.

"You're never going to be a burden. I love you so much. I understand how worried you must be, but just think.. All these people paid this money to see you. You have never let them down, and surely you won't let them down tonight." You knew exactly what to say to calm him down. You had learned quite a bit by being with him what most of the things were that he was insecure about. "Promise me?" He muttered into your shoulder "I promise." You responded, almost in a whisper. He pulled his head up fully.

"Look at'cha.. cheerin' this ol' man up." "Easy now.. you're hardly 30." "You're funny. I'm halfway through. 35." "30-shmirty. You're still a baby deep down." "Am not." "Are too."

He chuckled softly. "My baby. I love you most. Ever. Don't start tryna fight me on it, neither." He said to you. You just smiled, nodding at him. "Whatever."

He actually forgot about his anxieties. This was perfect. All you've ever wanted was for him to be happy. It was another thing to bring him happiness. Makes life a little worth living.

He eventually pulled away and nodded. He trusted you more than anything. Yet, sadly, your sweet moment was interrupted as one of his friends called over.

"E.P.! There is 5 minutes!"

You pulled away from Elvis softly. "Go on now, you'll do just fine." "I know, thank you." He says. Straight to the point. No hesitation. He had all the trust he could gather set on you.

His heart rate went to a normal speed for right now and he stared at you with adoring eyes. He kissed you on the forehead before getting up and walking towards the edges of the curtains, with his friends, coworkers, whatever. All of the fans were hollering as the lights dimmed.

"Shit, man.. I don't understand what took you so long." His friend made a snarky comment at Elvis. Even if Elvis wasn't even late. Elvis glanced over at you. He smiled a bit.

"Walk a mile in my shoes, Charlie. Then you'll get it."

The intro started and Elvis was ready to go, with a little help from his #1 fan. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

[elvispresley1956]

I love this man too much

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Notes: 18+ Sex & miscarriage mentioned

All the love and praise to my favorite blonde babe of an editor @ab4eva who holds my hand through it all and @precious-little-scoundrel for her screams of support!

 Elvis Presley Quietly Marries At Home

The man with the famous pelvis is now a married man! Colonel Parker confirmed that Elvis married Paramount actress Leona Grace at his home in Memphis on the nineteenth of March. The wedding comes on the heels of rumors that the new Mr. and Mrs. Presley are due for a visit from the stork. The Colonel’s response? “Those are questions for a different day”. The hush hush, spur of the moment wedding did not follow an engagement announcement and no pictures of the happy couple seem to exist beyond set outtake photos. The event reportedly took place in the evening with just family and close friends in attendance totaling about 50 people. A red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting was served for dessert and sources say that Elvis's own music was played late into the night as friends danced in the backyard of Presley's Graceland mansion. 

Leona had once heard Joe remark that Graceland was full of ghosts. He had chuckled with a cigar hanging out of his mouth when he had said it, but Leona had believed him. Once in a while she'd get an eerie feeling at night when all the lights were out and the various friends and relatives who occupied the mansion were tucked away in bed. Clad in a white slip with her feet bare, she crept down to the kitchen for a glass of water and a little peace. The master bedroom was dark and cold, Elvis asleep under the black silk sheets. It had been a whirlwind few months and she was only ever able to reflect back on it all when she was alone, which was a rarity since becoming Mrs. Presley. She was still unsure as to where everything was in the kitchen, but glasses and silverware she was sure of. Leona thought she heard creeping footsteps behind her, and kept peering over her shoulder as the sink water ran. She settled on to one of the stools, her petite legs swinging as she sipped her water and tapped her freshly manicured nails on the table. She and Patsy had ventured out to the beauty salon earlier in the day, Elvis's cousin was a sweetheart but her non-stop chattering about the room down the hall that needed decorating seemed to be the only topic of conversation. 

Leona’s biggest worries used to be whether she was getting cast in the newest buzzed about picture. Now the big concern was whether to have yellow bunny wallpaper or a toile print with puppies. She was still getting used to the weight of the 6 carat diamond on her hand, soon enough there would be a tiny little hand gripping hers. She let out a sigh she didn't know she had been holding in. Escaping Florida and the kitchy circus-like routine at Mac’s Mermaid Cove in the Florida Keys, Leona had been sending money back home to her mother and Grandma Alice in Orlando and scheming to win her breakout role. She had wanted to be a leading lady, but could never quite make the mark. She had once heard a director refer to her as “Florida trash”. She wasn't one to give up easily though. That persistence and all of the nagging and pleading to the higher ups at Paramount, helped her land a cushy supporting role in one of the newest Elvis Presley films. Paramount had agreed to lend her out for a price, now sitting in the kitchen of Graceland she did feel a bit smug knowing she wouldn't have to pay that price anymore in life. 

The role wasn't Oscar worthy, but she felt like a winner the second Elvis had drawled hello to her and gently held her hand. There were flowers and gifts, despite the fact that the blonde leading actress also seemed to be receiving similar gifts from him? He had taken her out for milkshakes on a Friday night after being out with their co-star the night prior. With his buddies mingling about, the owner in awe and basically allowing Elvis to turn the burger joint into his personal hangout, the two had kissed and whispered in the backseat of his car. A little warm up for what was to come. Two days later he took her on the floor of his trailer and filled her full, twice. 

What followed were nights of passion, a few tipsy heart to heart confessions where he talked of the loneliness since losing his mother and Leona told him of the loneliness she had been born feeling. She ignored the fact that he seemed to be wooing their co-star, or even the fans who traipsed into his trailer and left with dresses half buttoned or even on backwards. She liked what they had, she was allowed a moment of fun in life. Soon enough, things would wrap when the movie ended and this would be a story for her one day memoir. Her dalliance with the king. 

Except - things took a different turn. Three days before shooting wrapped for good, blame all that rain for dragging out production, Leona had collapsed from what everyone thought was “heat exhaustion”. Only she knew, it was a combination of heat exhaustion and a missed period. The studio doctor quietly confirmed with a serious tone that Leona was indeed pregnant. Rather than take the options the studio was pushing, Leona knew that men had the power. And Elvis? Well he had more power than even the president, it seemed. With shaking hands and a face powdered full of blush to hide her pale face, she waved down his car filled with friends. He jumped out and leaned against the driver's side door, flicking a toothpick between his lips as she told him he was to be a father. He took the news shockingly better than most. My baby? He had smirked. He wasn't questioning paternity, more like confirming the news to himself out loud. His smile was big and she had a feeling his eyes were gleaming under those sunglasses. He nodded and placed his giant hands on her shoulders. “Everything is gonna be alright honey, we'll make things right and do the right thing,” he had assured her, topping it off with a tender kiss to her forehead. He wagged a finger and ordered her back to her trailer to rest, he'd be by soon. Then he slid back into the car and she heard him chuckling and announcing something to his pals who in turn all whooped and hollered as the car left the lot. 

The water was cool and just what she needed to refresh her dry throat. She hadn't had much of an appetite at dinner despite proddings from Dodger. Everyone had told her she'd feel better as the days passed, she was officially 12 weeks and 2 days pregnant. She was crossing her fingers the better days were now upon her. She had been sick as a dog the day of the wedding. All hastily arranged and shrouded in secrecy as it was. She had settled for a dress the studio had gifted her, it still needed to be let out at the last second courtesy of one of Jerry's flings who was a costume designer. Once she had finished her drink, she placed the glass in the sink and crept back up the stairs. Down below, she heard muffled voices and a flirty female laugh. Probably Charlie and some blonde. They all tended to be blonde, the women who fluttered to the Mafia boys. The next best prize considering the King himself was taken. Leona wondered if he truly was though? They were virtual strangers when they married, but the deeply religious and old fashioned side of Elvis wouldn't take no for an answer. They had to marry, plain and simple.

 She cursed herself for not wearing socks, her toes were freezing. They were painted a shade of red that seemed to make Elvis's tongue wag. On their wedding night, the passion he had shown her in his set trailer and in the backseats of cars still seemed to be there. Albeit, he was softer and a bit more gentle given her delicate state. They hadn't been apart for more than a few hours since they said I do. She could say fairly confidently that there weren't other women in his life. He was due to shoot another film in a few months time, Leona was curious if that would still be the case when they were apart. She slowly took each step that led her closer and closer back to the bedroom where he slept with a shy little boy like smile on his face. She was fond of him, sure, and definitely attracted. Maybe love would bloom with time, like her growing body she mused. The door creaked open, the dim light from the hallway flooded the room and Elvis stirred. “Doll? You ok?” His drawl even more pronounced and gruff sounding. “I was just getting a drink, I didn't mean to wake you,” she hushed him. She closed the door, closing the world off and away from Mr. and Mrs. Presley. It was so rare they were truly alone, she realized. He was sitting up, his hair a bit of a mess. He ran a hand through it and then patted the bed beside him, “C’mere pretty baby, come talk to me till my eyes close”. She scurried back into bed and her feet brushed against his. He threw his head back and chuckled in that way that made her heart flutter. “Someone's got cold feet!” he crooned in her ear. Then he was pulling her into his arms and under the covers. Her feet continued to dance with his as she laid on her side, his lips teasing behind her ear. She let out a satisfied hum and burrowed deeper into his embrace. 

The dark, silent bedroom gave them more than just privacy. It was easier to joke, open up, and try and make some sense of this situation they found themselves in. He was pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulders. His hands came to rest on her tits which she was sure had already gone up a cup size or two. He had seemed to notice as well. Her white cotton nightgown would probably be on the floor soon, but she wanted to talk some until that happened. She wasn't sure what to say, she really just wanted to hear him. Steady, calming, reassuring words. He had a knack for making troubles fade away. His raspy voice piped up as he rested his head against her. “Been thinkin’ bout doing a little recording again….not for the public though…wanna sing a couple songs for my baby, you can play em while I'm gone and stop em from fussing”. She felt that cheeky grin of his against her skin. “Oh? What are ya thinking? Adding a little rock n roll to Rock-A-Bye Baby?” Her laughter was met with a rash of kisses to anywhere he could reach. Then slowly, his hands left her breasts and trailed down to her lower belly where things were just beginning to form.  “You're doin a real good job darlin’,” she could hear the tell-tale sign of sleep in his voice as his thumbs continued to rub small circles on her womb. She wasn't sure what exactly she was doing a great job at. Being a failed former actress, pregnant and married off in a flash, now resigned to a life that while glitzy and glamorous could also be fairly isolating? Was Elvis himself even aware of the sort of life he lived and how vastly different it was from most people? The thoughts tumbled into her head reminding her of the way she watched the seaweed tumble in the ocean water as a child. She'd pick Memphis and the Presley's over Florida and her own family any day, that's for sure. 

She wasn't even sure of when exactly she fell asleep or for how long. That is, until she was awakened in a sweaty instant, she felt like her insides were being rung out like an old rag. She was hot and cold all at once, and her thighs felt soaked? She practically threw herself out of bed, that's when it all began to register. The squeezing, tugging feeling in her stomach seemed to be in sync with the sharp, stabbing in her lower back. Her hands went to her thighs, Had she? No. It was blood. The blood from her thighs stained her hands, it dripped down her feet, and when she spun around on uneasy, shaking legs she noticed it was all over the sheets as well. It was too much blood. Gasping and wailing, she leaned over the edge of the bed as the room began to spin. With all she had left in her, she shoved and begged for him until he shot up. “What's a matter?!” He barked in confusion. “Get me a doctor..get someone…help..” her breathing was coming in spurts as she felt a tingling sweep from her shoulders to her toes as she continued to grip the sheets, hoping this wasn't what she thought it was. She didn't hear his response, she couldn't. Everything went black. 

She drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like days on end. She heard the sounds of the doctor's voice, smooth and sympathetic. Della and Patsy talking softly to her. Dodger pressing a hand to her forehead. Sometimes she'd blink open an eye and catch Vernon in the chair in the very corner of the room. He was always there though. Elvis with his mouth close to her ear, murmuring, praying. His big hands squeezed around hers when he wasn't brushing her chocolate curls out of her face. Slowly, she came to the realization of what had happened. There wasn't going to be a baby Presley arriving in the Fall any longer. 

The weeks that followed cemented a hysterical bond of sorts between Leona and Elvis. Every morning, when Mary brought Leona's breakfast up on a silver tray, Elvis would sit with her and make sure she drank her orange juice and take the horse pill looking vitamins the doc had recommended after all that blood loss. She had felt weak, physically and emotionally. With her father having run off when she was a child, and being raised by the overbearing tyrant duo that was her mother and grandmother, Leona had always hoped that her dreams of stardom would also blend well with a white picket fence. Dreams of coming home from movie sets to a shelf lined with little gold statues covered in sticky fingers, T-ball games, and a dog romping with a passel of kids in the sprinkler, an adoring husband by her side. Her hopes and dreams had perished alongside her baby. Elvis had leaped into his faith, reading to her, singing, telling her hope wasn't lost. She wasn't so sure though. They had married because of a baby, did she still have a marriage if she didn't have a baby?

Six weeks and one day after that horrible night, Leona had finally broached the subject. Was he going to cut her loose and they could annul the marriage? After all, they barely knew each other. Plus, Leona wanted her career, she couldn't rest without knowing if she was actually capable of cutting it as an actress. Elvis was aghast and furious. She watched his lips curl up and his face contort in anger in the same way it did when he fought with his father. “My wife ain't leaving my house,” he had snarled in her ear. Was he…hard? He was. This man was getting a hard on from ordering her around and telling her there wasn't going to be a divorce. And there definitely wasn't going to be a career for her like the one she had been used to. She raised her voice and spurred him on. He was hard for her and seemed to want to fight for her? Was Leona twisted for feeling a fluttering in her heart? She backed him into a corner and rambled on about the high possibility of him going on to screw other women in dark corners on movie sets or backstage. Was he really wanting to hang on to this marriage when there were so many pretty blondes desperate to taste him? His nostrils flared and she jammed a finger at him, conveniently landing it just above his cock. His eyes were dark with anger and lust. She gripped his shirt, wrinkling it, and finally pulled him to her mouth for a searing hot kiss. She saw no other way to end this dance at the moment. On the floor of their bedroom, he took with passion, panting into her ear and repeating, “You're my wife for my whole life, ya ain't going nowhere”. Bite marks littered her neck. He was inside her for the first time since it had happened. It made her emotional in more ways than one as he cradled her face and thrust into her desperately. Her orgasm ripped through her violently in perfect sync to his, he didn't withdraw. “This is your job now, being my wife and pleasin’ me,” his voice was smug and cocky as he tenderly tucked her into bed and pressed a soft lingering kiss to her cheek.

Since the dalliance on their bedroom floor, Leona had made it her mission to amp up the drama and theatrics. She had had some bit parts in a couple comedies, and was striving for a perfect sort of dark humor to get under Elvis's skin, convince him that she need be kept busy and not in a princess in a tower situation. Except - it was having the opposite effect it seemed. He found her antics amusing? She had started off strong, first making a trip downtown to Harris department store. She has bought a robins egg blue negligee, sent a sales employee scouring the back stockroom for the perfect pair of white kitten heel slippers with a little feather poof, and a white sheer scarf to tie up her hair. The cherry on top? A pair of cherry red, heart eyed sunglasses that she had once worn as an extra on set. Elvis was due for a lunch meeting with that vile reptile they all called Colonel Parker.  Elvis had pressed a kiss to her shoulder as she sat at her dressing table powdering her face. She was clad in just her panties and bra, he had yet to see her little ensemble. She felt goosebumps form as he slid the strap of her bra to the side and pressed a kiss to the bare skin that had been covered. 

“See ya in a bit, baby doll, gotta meet with the Colonel about some stuff,” his lips lingered on her skin while he eyed her in the mirror. Leona couldn't suppress the sour look that appeared on her face.

“What sort of stuff?” she questioned cooly. 

“Some movie stuff, ain't nothing for you to worry that pretty head about,” his tone was casual yet dismissive. Those were fighting words for Leona, who stomped her foot like a child and demanded to know just exactly why he was allowed to make movies while she had been regulated to pick flowers in the garden with the dogs, lounge in the pool, and shop herself silly with Patsy. She felt like a bird in a cage, albeit a gold-plated diamond-studded cage. 

“Oh, ya want me to start calling you my pretty little baby bird?” he teased, those long fingers, perfect for reaching all the right spots, were tickling at her ribs. Leona yanked away from his grasp and pouted. “Baby, you're a wife now, my wife, I'm gonna take care of things. No need for you to stress yourself and slave away to send money back home to your momma and granny, I had my daddy send a check two days ago,” Elvis explained, sliding on a pair of sunglasses that made him look utterly delectable as he shifted his weight from one leg to another in the doorway, seemingly unable to keep still. 

Too frustrated to formulate a response that would accurately convey her angst, she took a beat before swerving herself around to face him. With a grin that could only be perfected after years after trying to charm sweaty, fat producers in suits, Leona turned to her husband. Her voice was dripping with a faux sugary sweet tone, “I'll be here waiting for you to get back, baby”. She knew that's exactly what he wanted to hear. Elvis blew her a kiss before he disappeared down the stairs. She heard him below in the kitchen, chatting with Mary, probably grabbing a sweet treat. His pals downstairs playing pool, she knew that'd be his next stop. Rounding them all, lest he ever go anywhere alone. It was the perfect time for Leona to change into her newest purchase and head outside, to the driveway. She examined herself in the mirror, she knew if the sunlight hit just the right way that everyone would be getting a nice view of Mrs. Presley’s chest courtesy of her basically sheer nightie. Her fingers combed through her chocolate curls and then she added an extra coat of lipstick, spritzing herself with some of that perfume Elvis had brought back after a trip away with the guys. With the sunglasses hiding her green eyes, it was now or never. She scurried down the stairs as fast as her kitten heels would carry her, the front door was in her sights and Elvis's booming laughter could be heard on the floor below her. 

Suddenly a voice called her name, “Miss Leona where on earth are you headed in that get up? Looks like you belong up there in that bedroom the way you dressed!” Mary, Elvis's long-time housekeeper, was a peach with a spitfire sense of humor. She had been warm and motherly since the minute Leona had walked through the front door. A single finger came to rest on Leona's lips and she pointed to the floor, Mary caught on it seemed. She flung a dish towel over her shoulder and rolled her eyes good naturedly, “Don't you worry, I certainly won't be running and gabbing to Mr. Elvis tellin’ him his wife is half naked in the yard where folks and fancy photographer men might see…girl…you best do whatever it is you planning and fast”. Almost giddy with anticipation and curious to see just exactly how this scheme would land with her husband, Leona’s heels clicked on the driveway. She paused and did her best to look down towards the gates, shockingly, there was no one there. She wasn't sure if she was glad about that or not. Elvis's Cadillac was parked just a little past the front steps. If she was laying in the driveway, Joe wouldn't dare move an inch. Hell, they'd all be too busy averting their eyes and making small talk amongst themselves about what nice weather Memphis was having recently. What was her end game exactly? Leona wasn't completely sure. She just wanted Elvis to see her and hear her, truly. Her grandmother had told her growing up that marriage was a compromise, but if all else fails defer to your husband. When Leona had called home to tell her mother and grandmother she was marrying the Elvis Presley, her grandmother had said in not so many words to forget compromise and keep Elvis happy at all costs. Why should she stifle herself down for him though? Ok, maybe she didn't need to go back to Hollywood full-time. But she needed something, anything, to keep herself busy and fulfilled. If she had to spend the next fifty years praising him and his work, picking out curtains, and entertaining the Memphis Mafia and their various girls of the week she'd absolutely need a sanatorium. 

The black asphalt was warm on the backs of her legs as Leona lay like she was making a snow angel. She heard the door open, the rowdy laughter and loud conversation that signaled the arrival of Elvis and co. Then someone spoke up, Leona was a bit too far back to place exactly who, but she thought it might be Charlie. “Uh, EP, that your wife laying down there in front of the car?” his voice sounded nervous. Suddenly the only thing Leona could hear was the sound of the birds and heavy footsteps approaching. It was as if the sun had snuck behind the clouds, everything felt dark as Elvis's shadow engulfed her. She pulled her sunglasses down and batted her eyelashes up at him. “Headin’ out honey?” She purred, she could feel her nipples hard and a hazy sheen of sweat covered her basically naked body. “Was plannin on it…seems to be a little detour though” Elvis crowed. “What are you up to little girl?” He leaned down closer to her face. “Well wouldn't you like to know..” Leona laughed, picking at her cuticles as if this whole scenario playing out was perfectly logical and normal. She watched him shake his head still, still sporting that grin, and motion for the guys to wait in the backyard. Her eyes darted to the side when she realized Elvis was laying down on the pavement beside her, his arms stretched back cradling his head. “I've got time…tell me baby”. He had his sunglasses on and a big toothy smile. Leona didn't expect him to use this tactic.

She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking his view of her hard nipples. He snorted when she did that. Her bottom lip jetted out into a pout. “If I'm here - and I'm certainly not going anywhere, you made that perfectly clear - then you should be too. No movies for me means no movies for you.” She lifted her shades to look at him and see if she could gauge his reaction behind his own sunglasses. His lip twitched and then he nodded slowly. “I'm so utterly bored, if you try and leave you'll just have to run me down, I've got nothing to do. I can afford to lay here practically naked for all your buddies and fans to see if that's what you'd like…honey.” She turned on the charm for the last part. Cooing and dropping her voice into a sweet little starlet tone. “Well ain't you slick”. Suddenly he was sitting up and sliding the sunglasses off. He towered over her from above. “Listen - I know you and half the folks in the house would just love it if I ripped up old Colonel’s contracts but I ain't doing that…I can't. So if you wanna lay on the ground and be a little whiny baby wife, have at it. I might have to punish ya for it though,” his voice was raspy when he spoke that last sentence and it made Leona’s stomach flip flop in the best way. “Or….you can march that pretty little behind back to our bed and wait for me to get home. If you're a good girl maybe I'll bring ya something shiny huh?” He was rising to his feet and held a hand out to her. Leona gripped her fingers into her hair frustrated before cutting her eyes up at him. “Fine..” she scoffed, taking his hand and marching back up the driveway, into the house, and past the family in the living room. Elvis trailed behind her like he was making she she'd do just that. When she reached the bottom of the staircase she yelped when he suddenly slapped her ass. Her plan foiled, she was now back to reality and keenly aware she was half naked in the foyer. She ran up the stairs, she didn't have to look behind her to know he was ogling her barely dressed body. When she reached the top of the stairs she did something that made him chuckle loudly enough that his father asked him what was so funny. Leona turned and winked at him before disappearing to their bedroom. 

Just as her husband had suggested, Leona took to their bed. Mary had come up and changed the sheets and the evidence of how Elvis had licked her until she gushed last night was no longer present. Laying on her back like the starfish she remembered collecting as a child, she felt a tad foolish. She hadn't accomplished what she had hoped for and now she was destined to sit and wait for Elvis's return. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and she flicked them away with her finger tips lest she ruin her makeup. Now what? She thought to herself. A melancholy mood washed over her and when Mary came knocking announcing dinner, Leona sent her away claiming she wasn't hungry. She heard the older woman return and leave a tray outside the door but Leona couldn't muster up the energy to rise and feign eating. She caught her reflection in the mirror above the bed, tussling her hair with her fingers and throwing it back. She allowed her thoughts to wander and imagine what life would be like had she not fallen into this marriage. She'd probably be hustling all over via orders from the studio, fittings here, screen tests there. She didn't miss that part. Being on set, delivering perfectly executed monologues in one take, becoming someone entirely different? That's what Leona missed. Proving herself, making a name on her own, those were all things that had once lit a fire under her. All of that jazz about making lemons into lemonade would suggest that Leona try and do some of that here in her married life. Should she be like some of the other wealthy kept women in Memphis and join the garden club? Something told Leona that despite whatever money Elvis threw their way, she wouldn't exactly be welcome. Curling onto her side, Leona came to the realization that if she wanted to act she'd have to consider Graceland her only sound stage. Was there room for two hot shots in this house? Elvis's words from earlier rung in her ears. He had called her a whiny baby wife. Him and his good natured teasing. Maybe that was it though, that could be her new role. She could embrace her new title as leading lady of Graceland and be this whiny baby wife character.....

---

[hooked-on-elvis]

[suspiciousmindsxo]

This is my favorite photo. Elvis driving, Lamar File in front and, my brother Ricky and Me in the back. There’s cool, and then there’s Super Cool riding with Elvis.

Via David Stanley on Facebook

[wanderingelvis]

hi!! so my birthday is tomorrow or the 27th of february and i was wondering if you could do an Elvis imagine and the Memphis Mafia throwing her a surprise birthday party? of course no rush or pressure i hope you have a wonder day ! - 🦢

headcanons for a birthday at graceland with elvis and the mafia 🎂🥂 (kinda possessive elvis!) 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

birthday's are special at graceland.

and yours, is no exception.

see, elvis spoils you every day, he showers you with affection and gifts that it's often overwhelming but you love feeling loved and you love soaking in the feeling.

but today, on your birthday, well, that's when elvis' generosity goes into overdrive.

he's like the captain of a ship, ordering the memphis mafia to do various tasks that will make your birthday extra special.

usually, jerry's scanning crowds making sure no-one is going to attack elvis but today he's blowing up pink balloons to decorate the interior of graceland with.

and of course he doesn't mind, he loves you as much as elvis does.

they all do in fact, jerry, sonny, red, charlie, lemar, you've got a hold on all of their hearts.

it's how sweet you are, even when they've had an intense and rough day, you'll be the sunshine that they crave.

like when jerry got in a scuffle with some guys trying to get too close to elvis and he cut his knuckles pretty damn bad, you sat by his feet, tending to the wound with a warm damp rag and clean bandages, trying to tell him jokes that maybe weren't all that funny, but when you said them, well then jerry had to laugh.

you're like a tonic.

and god, you were intoxicating.

so when it's your birthday, the entire memphis mafia ensure they're pulling out all the stops.

when elvis wakes you up, you're an adorable sight to see, your hair is slightly strewn and you blink several times before the realisation hits that it's your birthday, and suddenly, it's like you're a bush-baby, and the excitement begins to build.

"happy birthday, kid." elvis says, kissing your forehead as you gaze up at him from your shared bed, the kiss eliciting a soft giggle from you that practically melts elvis' heart.

even though you're still a little sleepy, elvis leads you out of the bedroom, your small hand in his larger, more calloused one.

and you practically jump out of your skin when a chorus of "surprise!" and "happy birthday!" roars around the living room, all of the men of the mafia, watching as elvis leads you to them.

of course, it's then that the stage fright hits, and your nerves bundle up inside you, the attention on you causing you to turn and bury your face into elvis' chest.

as if he's your comfort blanket.

but this only elicits another chorus of sound, but this time laughter, and 'aww's' from the men, cooing at just how sweet you are.

"think someone's got a lil' bit shy!" elvis chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back before leaning down his head to check on you.

"y'okay bunny? it's just the guys, they wanna celebrate y'big day with you baby, see," elvis coos at you, coaxing you into peeking at everyone as he points to the pink balloons over the archways. "jer got up extra early this mornin' to blow them balloons for you baby." elvis tells you and you start blushing, that feeling of feeling loved swelling inside of you.

it's already too much for a little thing like you to handle, and you've only been awake for 20 minutes.

once the stage fright is shaken off, elvis keeps a hold of your hand, leading you through the dining room and the living room, letting you see all of the pretty decorations that he and the memphis mafia have done for you, from balloons, to ribbons, to birthday breakfast pancakes.

and being the good girl you are, you give every one of the big, old men a cuddle, thanking them for making your birthday so special.

and even though elvis knows your cuddles are harmless, he never lets you out of his sight.

he trusts you, of course he does, and he trusts his men, of course he does, but there's just something so irresistible about you.

he knows his men are loyal but you're so heavenly that he knows you're worth risking everything for.

so he always keeps an eye on you.

because no-one else will ever have you, only him.

so he knows he needs to keep you happy.

and of course, that means presents, and extra special ones as it's your birthday.

and what could be more special than your own little puppy?

when elvis gives you the puppy, you can't help the tears that pool in your big, wide eyes.

"really? for me?" you ask with a slight tremble, you're not really ready to believe that the puppy is all yours.

"all yours baby." elvis smirks, he's proud of himself for the gift.

so there you are, with elvis' kitten with her own little puppy.

elvis and the mafia have invited everyone round for a party to celebrate you and by the time the evening rolls around, it's a full house.

the smell of champagne and cigars fill the rooms as does the sound of laughter and chatter.

and of course, you remember your manners, making sure to say hello to everyone and thank them for coming.

even if you have to go on your tippy-toes to whisper in elvis' ear because you need his help - you can't remember that guests name.

as the party continues and elvis is showcasing his new gun collection to sonny and charlie, the two men puffing on cigars, you're sat on the fluffy white carpet, by elvis' feet, your sole attention focused on your new puppy, who you're affectionately playing with.

elvis' talk of guns being interrupted with your sweet giggles at your puppy.

but it's not long before the staff come round with more glasses of champagne for everyone and you can't help yourself, you just want to have a little bit more.

only a little.

so you tap on elvis' trouser leg, catching his attention as he leans down to where you are on the floor beside him.

"please may i have a glass of champagne?" you ask softly and you know the look that he gives you all too well.

"just one more." elvis tells you with that coy look on his face. "can't have my baby being sick on her birthday now, can i?" elvis chuckles and you reciprocate, taking the glass that the staff hands you after elvis nods at them to confirm it's okay to give you one.

you love how elvis looks after you and knows what's best for you.

but the excitement of your birthday is quick to take it's toll, and it's not long until your head is firmly led on elvis' lap with your eyes closed.

elvis' lap is a good enough substitute for your bed, you think.

but obviously, elvis disagrees, and after about fifteen minutes of stroking your hair as you rest your head in his lap and lay on the couch by him, he decides it's time for your bedtime.

"c'mon little one, time to get you to your bed." elvis coos, waking you up ever so that you can say your goodnights and go with elvis to your bedroom.

and it's not before elvis instructs you to say goodnight and thank you to all of the memphis mafia that are sat around you in the living room.

"give the guys a kiss goodnight baby, say thank you fr' makin' y'day so special." elvis chides, patting your butt so prompt you to say your goodnights.

see, elvis is a possessive man, and he knows that his men adore you, and after a few drinks, he can't help but enjoy watching as you innocently go around, placing a kiss on each of the mafia's cheeks, not thinking anything of it, whilst the men won't stop thinking about for the next month, wishing they were as lucky as elvis to have you.

because there's nothing elvis loves more than having something that everyone else wants but can't have.

and for him, that's you.

because now, he gets to take you upstairs, undress you, kiss you up and down your body, taste you, fuck you.

and the mafia will still be thinking about that kiss on the cheek.

but all you feel is loved, and you love feeling loved.

and elvis loves you better than anyone.

and that's why birthday's at graceland are so special.

[monajoon16]

1970s Elvis is my soulmate

[elvisvideos]

Elvis interviewed in Friedberg, Germany. March 1, 1960

[elvisbooty76]

[lustnhim]

dilf vibes elvis 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[presleyheart]

Do you think elvis would've liked social media

I think Elvis would break iphones for fun. <3 Especially Elvis in 1973 after the divorce

[ladelinee]

THIS MOMENT 😱❤️❤️❤️

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. ���I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts