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floralcyanide · 2 years

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You Don't Have To Say You Love Me

Austin!Elvis x Reader Angst/Smut

request: smut prompt 3/ angst prompt 2: “Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?” and “Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“Okay so I feel like I want divorced or broken up reader x Austin or Austin!Elvis where like any time they're near each other this shit happens where they have sex or they make out or basically act like they would as a couple but afterward they're both back to fighting like cats and dogs.”

requested by @elvisabutler

>> not a lot of fighting in this one cause that's almost too sad lol but I also wanted to get around to finishing this after 84 years!! I hope you like it Ally!! and if ya'll enjoy this please reblog/ like <3 (btw I'm picturing early 70s austin!elvis here, also can be pictured as real elvis!)

pairing: Austin!Elvis x reader

warnings: angst, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anger, mentions of light violence, mentions of drug use, smoking

word count: 2067

masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE!

Everything about Elvis is alluring; there’s no doubt about that. It’s actually one thing you’ve come to resent about him after your divorce, but it’s also one thing that pulls you back in every time. The way his eyes hold so much emotion, whether it be passion, anger, curiosity, joy, or even lust, has always made you weak in the knees. But it was the lack of emotion towards the end that became unbearable. Elvis’ voice even pulls you in with its accented deepness. It would get deeper when he’d slur his words while under the dark cloud of drugs. He was a tad taller than you, which you sometimes hated, but other times it was endearing. Especially when Elvis would corner you, his height looming as he had to bend down to kiss you. However, he would corner you in the same way when angry, using his height to his advantage to scare you. Elvis’ alluring characteristics had turned into haunting ones. But it didn’t stop you from coming back time after time.

You still love Elvis with a fiery passion, but the drug use became too much to tolerate. His depression and anger had gotten too dangerous for you to be around, no matter how much you wanted to stay. Elvis still loved you, too. So much so that he often wrote love letters to you, even if they were sometimes pages-long tangents. You keep them in a box under your bed and read them sometimes when you’re alone. You and Elvis still had sex often despite being divorced. Usually, it was fueled by anger or loneliness and rarely out of love. One of you would get lonely and call the other over, get into an argument, have hate sex, argue some more, then you’d go your separate ways for however long. Today would probably be no different, but you hope that isn’t the case. You always do. This time, it’s you who calls Elvis over to your place out of pure desperation. It’s been a few weeks since you two have last seen each other. It’s usually never that long of a break. Hopefully, there won’t be anything to argue about, and the two of you can have an adult conversation.

“So,” you exhale the puff of your cigarette, sitting your lighter down on the patio table between you and Elvis, “How have you been? And don’t lie.”

The two of you are on your apartment balcony that faces the woods, the trees making odd shapes in the dark. You cross your legs and rest your free arm on your knee.

“Would I ever lie to you, darlin’?” Elvis takes a hit off his cigar, his face feigning hurt.

You glare at Elvis knowingly, “Yes, you would. Now, answer the question.”

He sighs lightly, “I’ve been okay. Just lonely.”

You hum in response, “Me too.”

A silence falls over the two of you as you smoke your respectable cigarette and cigar. The only thing audible at the moment is the sound of the night with cicadas and crickets echoing and chirping in the trees. You start wondering how tonight would end between you and Elvis. Would it end like it does every other time? Sex and an argument? Or the other way around? With that thought, you finish your cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, letting out a long exhale of smoke.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Elvis asks, still slowly puffing his cigar.

“Nothing,” you wave him off.

“Now who’s the one lying?” Elvis smirks.

You roll your eyes, “It’s nothing important.”

“Everything that goes through that pretty little head of yours is always important,” Elvis says, trying to coax you to reveal your thoughts. He’s always been good at that.

While clicking your tongue, you cross your arms in defeat, “I was just thinking about how tonight is gonna go.”

“And how do you think it’s gonna go?” Elvis stops smoking his cigar, presumably saving the rest for later.

“I don’t know,” you say, eyeing him carefully, “It usually ends with us fucking and then arguing. Or vice versa.”

“You’re right about that,” Elvis chuckles, leaning back in the patio chair and crossing his arms behind his head.

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at him, “It’s honestly not a good thing that our conversations always end that way.”

“They’ve been ending that way for a long time, baby,” he shrugs.

He unfortunately has a point there, but you’d rather not think about it too much. The last months of your relationship were spent being exhausted and fighting all the time before you eventually came home one day with divorce papers. You aren’t sure even all this time later whether or not it was a good idea. You still love him and probably always will. But, who he’s become isn’t who you want to spend the rest of your life with.

“They don’t have to, you know,” you say, picking at a piece of lint on your pajama pants, “We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk like old times.”

“Whatever you want, darlin’.”

You turn to face Elvis fully, “It’s a two-way street, Elvis. You have to want to talk too.”

“I do, or else I’d have you against the wall already,” he smirks as he puts out his cigar to finish later.

You raise an eyebrow, “What’s stopping you? You usually never hold back.”

Elvis laughs, looking you straight in the eye, “I’ve been sober for a few weeks.”

You’re a little surprised you didn’t pick up on it, but now that you think it over, he is acting pretty sober. And he’s right, he’s constantly sexually frustrated while under the influence of anything. So, now that he’s sober, he’s not all over me.

“I’m proud of you,” you smile, “I won’t ask why because it doesn’t matter as long as you stay this way.”

Elvis nods and leans over, sliding a hand up your jaw and cupping it on your cheek.

“I’m sorry I treated you so badly, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it,” Elvis traces your cheekbone with his thumb, “You never did.”

Your eyes remain on his, carefully taking in his words.

“I’ve had time to actually think without the pills foggin’ my head up,” Elvis says, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your eyes.

“I’m glad,” you say quietly, almost not sure what to do with the intimate proximity between you two. Every encounter you’ve had with Elvis for the last year or so has been rough, violent, or angry.

Elvis glances down at your lips again, this time moving his face forward just enough to reach them with his own. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed so gently, that it feels foreign yet familiar. You place your hands on both sides of his face, latching onto the kiss like you’ll never get it back. Elvis slightly runs his tongue over your bottom lip, his fingers snaking their way past your face and into your hair. You let him in, relishing in the nostalgic taste of the cigar on his breath. Elvis dominates your mouth, licking everywhere like he’s exploring it for the first time. The kiss turns hot and open-mouthed, close to desperate. An urge fills your stomach, and before you can think it through clearly, you pull away from the kiss and turn off the patio light. Before Elvis can say a word, you walk over to him and fall to your knees in front of him. You caress his clothed thigh, inching your face close to his bulge.

“Stay quiet for me,” you whisper, tucking your fingers underneath the waistband of his pants and pulling them down his legs along with his underwear.

Elvis nods even though you can’t see it, and glides his fingers through your hair before lightly gripping it as you pull his cock to your lips. You give the tip a kiss before sticking your tongue out to lick it, sliding it into your mouth before sucking gently. Elvis has to bite his fist to not let out a sound. You start engulfing him inch by inch, sucking a little harder as your mouth becomes fuller. Feeling him near the space between your throat and mouth, you pull off of him a little before slamming your face forward so he hits the soft spot in the back of your throat. You hear Elvis groan behind his fist at the feeling. After a few moments pass, he begins to thrust his hips forward a little to meet up with your rhythm. You gag a little around him, causing his hand to tighten in your hair and his hips to sputter. The length you can’t fit in your mouth, you work with your hand, making sure to squeeze a little with every thrust to drive Elvis crazy.

You eventually let Elvis take over, and he fucks your throat however he wants, tears streaming down your face as he hits the back of it without mercy. It’s been a while since you genuinely enjoyed getting your face fucked by Elvis. It’s happened a lot, obviously, since he liked using you and leaving, but it was always rough and not enjoyable for you. This time it was like heaven since he wasn’t sloppy with it. You’re lost in your thoughts when his tip presses against your throat at a different angle, causing you to gag and tighten around his cock. The feeling of your throat and mouth closing on him sends him over the edge. Hot spurts of his cum spill down your throat and the sides of your mouth. If it weren’t dark, Elvis probably would’ve thoroughly enjoyed the sight of that. You swallow and wipe your mouth with your sleeve, letting out a deep exhale as Elvis chuckles breathlessly.

There’s a long time when neither of you says anything and just focus on catching your breath. At one point, you turn the light back on and return to your spot on the patio floor in front of Elvis. He’s now pulled his pants back up, and you’re leaning against his legs, laying your head on his thigh.

“You ever thought about getting back together?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Are you going to stay sober?” you croak, your throat dry from the friction. But you were serious since you don’t plan on making this decision lightly.

“Maybe,” Elvis sighs.

You clear your throat and look up to face him, “It’s either yes or no, there is no maybe, Elvis.”

“Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?” he says suddenly.

You purse your lips, “Because I want what’s best for you, of course, but I also want what’s best for me. And unless you plan on staying sober for good, then I don’t want to be with you like that.”

“You don’t want to be with me like that, hmm?” Elvis says, leaning down and impossibly close to your face, “Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“That’s different,” you cross your arms, looking into his blue eyes.

“Different how? You divorce me, but you still hang around, don’t you? You call me up when you get lonely and get upset with me every time because I’m not who you want. But now I am working to be who you want, and you can’t accept it?”

That shuts you up. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You wanted to be away from him but still came crawling back. You would cry every time he’d leave because of what he’d say to you while he was with you. And now that the possibility of things going back to the way they were when things were good, is being presented, you don’t know what you want. You’ve gotten so used to both ways of life, that they seem to blur into one. But deep down, you know what the right choice is. Even if it’s a dice roll.

You sigh, “I’ll try again with you. But you have to promise me, really, really promise me that you’ll never touch those damn drugs again, do you understand?”

Elvis pulls you into his lap, burying his face in your hair, “I’d do anything for you, baby. Even if it’s taken all this time to realize it.”

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youaintnothinbuta · 4 months

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“What flavour do you want?” “You.” — austin butler x reader

Summary: At the end of a dinner date, Austin decides he’d rather have you for dessert.

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1200

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral (f receiving), explicit, mature language. also warning this might be a little bit shit, I wrote this last year and never posted it :,)

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You and Austin sat across from each other, on your date, him observing you as you considered the dessert menu.

“What are you thinking, Aus? We could get ice cream, what flavour do you want? Vanilla? Chocolate?” You asked, not lifting your eyes from the menu.

Austin smiled, it stretched perhaps a little too far as he leaned in to you and mumbled, “You.”

You laughed at his joke, “C’mon, what do you want for dessert?”

“You.” He repeated himself, his hand reaching out under the table to gently tap the inside of your knee.

Oh. OH. He wasn’t joking.

Your heart fluttered a little, realising he’d been sat there, watching you quietly, thinking about all the things he could be doing right now, all the things he wanted to be doing.

“Do you want to go?” You asked, shifting in your chair.

“Very much so.” Austin stood up, going to pay the bill. Coming back to your table, he picked up your coat off the back of your chair and draped it over your shoulders as you stood up.

The pair of you walked out the restaurant graciously, but inside your tummy was on fire, tingling with excitement, knowing what was soon going to unravel between you and him. The whole drive home Austin kept his fingertips pressed into your thigh, gripping onto you for dear life. Austin was starving for you, ready to devour you the second he got a chance. He always gave you good head, he loved it, loved making sure you felt good, but when he got himself worked up the way he had, wanting to eat you the way he did, it was always an extra intense experience.

“Come on, baby, bedroom.” He placed a hand on your back, guiding you with him as he locked the door after bringing you inside. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

“Sit, Austin.” You pushed him gently towards the edge of the bed. He nodded and took a seat, watching you with hungry eyes. You dropped your coat on the floor and lifted one of your feet up on his knee, asking him to undo the buckle of your heels. He did just that, pushing your foot down and bringing your other one up to do the same.

You stood in front of him, each of his hands finding your thighs, running his fingers up and down the back of them, tickling you slightly.

“Let me at it, darlin’.” He cooed, pulling you closer to him. You smiled, bringing his hand under your dress, to the waistband of your underwear. He pushed them down around your hips and then to the floor, taking his middle finger and pressing into you slowly, before drawing a slit down towards your clit, making you shudder. He paused for a second, shutting his eyes to process how wet you were for him.

He brought his face to your body, gently kissing around your tummy. He placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to lay down. You did just that, he then got comfortable, laying between your legs. He continued his trail of kisses, up and down your inner thighs, all around your pussy, except for the place you needed him most.

“Austin.” You mumble his name, your way of asking him to move on with the teasing. He smiled, placing a final kiss directly on your clit, making you jump slightly.

“Mm, sensitive, baby?” He hummed.

You nodded.

“Good,” he kissed your core once again, “I always get the best orgasms from you like this.”

He wrapped his arms around each of your legs and pulled your body closer to him, resting his hands on your tummy. He collected your arousal on the tip of his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your slit, before letting your own fluid coat your clit, swirling around in slow circles, making your moaning begin. Your hands reached down, tangling your fingers in his blonde curls as you gently gripped and tugged on his hair. Your sudden desperation he takes as a cue that he’s dragged it out long enough, and he encompasses his lips around your clit, gently sucking on it. You let out the most strung-out, desperate moan, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at what he was doing to you.

“I love the way you taste, darlin’.” He looked up at you, gave you a little grin and went back to sucking on your clit, making eye contact with you as often as he could. The visual of him, pleasing you like this, it’s almost enough to push you right over the edge, your arms started to shake with the weight of your body, making you drop back down onto the bed, continuing to whimper and whine as you watch Austin down the length of your body. He stopped sucking for a moment, bringing one of his hands off your stomach and using his thumb to lift the hood of your clit up, giving himself more surface area to suck on.

“Holy fuck, Austin.” You gasped, your pelvis smacking into his nose as your body jolted, your already sensitive clit on fire with the feeling he was giving you. Austin knew your body, knew the signs of your orgasm building. The specific whiny moans, the way you hips couldn’t hold still, the way you pressed up again him to get as much friction as you could, and the way your thighs started trembling.

“Oh, baby.” He mumbled against you.

“Austin, please, I’m so close.” You begged, your hands unable to choose whether they’d rather grip onto the bedsheets or his hair.

“I know, honey, come for me.” He encouraged you, his hands having to press harder and harder on your stomach to hold you still enough to keep his lips in contact with you.

You thrashed around, in his grip, your body unsure of what to do with all the pleasure he was giving you. With a loud cry, you felt that big release, your thighs clenched around his head, your orgasm pulled your hips upwards, lightly smacking Austin in the nose, making him smile as he continued to gently lick the rest of your orgasm out of you.

Once he was sure he’d gotten out of you all he could, he crawled up, laying his body over yours. The weight of his body on yours helped you calm down from your high, and he loved the feeling your body twitching underneath him, the feeling of your heart racing, right up against his.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your lips, then your forehead, “such a good girl for me.”

Still wriggling around under him, you couldn’t manage anything but another moan, making him chuckle.

“That was good, huh, baby?” He smiled, looking down at you.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, your abs clenching against him with another twitch.

“Still coming for me? Oh, darling, that’s it, that’s the way.” He continued to talk you through your orgasm, holding gentle eye contact with you.

With a deep exhale, you finally felt your heart rate begin to return to normal and your muscles relax, “That was crazy, Austin.” You laughed.

He smiled, “told you I could get a good one.”

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wanderingelvis · 3 months

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how about elvis & ditzy/innocent reader doing something in public?

thank you!! i don't do a lot of smut so i hope y'all like this! 🧚

🧚 masterlist 🧚 word count: 1,758

pairing: 70s elvis x innocent!ditzy!reader

warnings: fingering (f receiving), praise k!nk, overstim, public smut, daddy dom dynamics

"This bit is my favourite." You whisper adorably to Elvis, trying to be as quiet as possible and contain your sweet excitement at the scene about to play.

It wasn't uncommon for Elvis to hire out the Memphian Theater for you two and the Mafia. In fact, it was the go-to activity for you all after a long day of Elvis performing, recording or rehearsing. It was however, a bit more unusual for Elvis to let you pick the movie.

The choice was Sleeping Beauty, your favourite movie and Elvis would often call you his 'lil' sleepin' beauty' as you did indeed remind him of Princess Aurora.

Elvis smirked down at you, sat upright by his side, your big round eyes fixed on the screen as you mindlessly parted those pretty pink lips and put popcorn in your mouth, over and over again, your attention not leaving the screen as Aurora met Prince Phillip in the woods for the first time.

Knowing how transfixed his sweet little thing was, Elvis effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, your attention never wavering from the screen as you let Elvis manhandle you like his own little dolly.

Slowly, Elvis started feeding you the popcorn, as you watched the movie like a good girl. Absent-mindedly, you'd wrap your lips around Elvis' thumb or his finger as he'd place it in your mouth so you could suck the sugary sweet residue off his digits.

Truth be told, Elvis hadn't followed along with the movie since the first scene, his attention solely on you. But oh, how he adored watching you be so entertained and sweet for him.

He knew the rest of the Mafia weren't over the moon with your choice of movie, it wasn't exactly the usual Western that they were used to, but Elvis didn't care, he only cared about the sweet thing on his lap. Besides, they were a few rows back, allowing the two of you to have your own space.

All of Elvis' affectionate touches and kisses went over your head initially, your mind elsewhere, enjoying the popcorn you were being fed by the big, old man who's lap you were settled on.

It wasn't until Elvis wrapped a strong arm around your tummy, holding you in place as he shuffled in his place, letting his legs part ever so, so that your legs were now completely apart, each leg dangling over each of his, leaving your core dangerously exposed under your sweet pink skirt, that you begin to feel that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Gently, Elvis' coarse, large hands toyed with the hem of your skirt, his fingers lingering ever closer to your centre. Elvis kept his arm secured tightly around you, holding you in place so you couldn't squirm about as he began to trace circles into your plush thigh.

"Um..." You murmured softly, feeling that all too familiar funny feeling from Elvis' touch.

"Uh-uh doll, no talkin' durin' the movie pretty girl." Elvis reprimanded cooly, whispering in your ear from behind and making your shiver all over, causing you to try and squirm before realising that Elvis was holding you closely to him. "Eyes on the screen lil' one." Elvis instructed, quietly delighting in teasing you.

Elvis didn't wait though before he dragged his hands up your thighs, pushing up your pretty skirt and exposing your panties to the cold air of the theatre.

You blinked sweetly, trying to keep your attention on the movie that Elvis had paid a lot to have screened for you.

It was only when you felt Elvis' fingers toy at the damp fabric between your legs that you let out another stuttered gasp, your head lolling forward ever so, at the sudden sensation.

"Such a sensitive thing, hm?" Elvis whispered into your ear at your reaction at just a mere touch.

See, Elvis was right. It didn't take much for Elvis to stimulate you, he knew you inside out and he knew exactly how to work you into overdrive, and oh how we adored watching you get all antsy and disoriented.

And of course, Elvis knew what he was doing to you. He knew exactly what he wanted to happen during the movie as soon as he'd booked it. He knew that he'd wanted to pleasure you in the darkened room as soon as your eyes went wide with delight when Elvis told about the date night. Even as Elvis held your hand and led you to the seats in the theatre, Elvis knew those hands would be somewhere else entirely within a matter of minutes.

All you knew of course, was that you were excited for the movie that in your words was "just oh so pretty!". Elvis' decidedly darker intentions with you had gone right over your sweet head.

But there you both were, your lips parted and glossy as Elvis' fingers slipped under the damp fabric and began to massage your clit, pressing his thumb onto it and applying pressure as he rubbed you in circular motions.

Elvis watched with a smirk as he felt your chest rise and fall at a quicker and more erratic pace, he relished in the power he had over you.

You began to writhe in his hold before you felt his grip get tighter around your waist, his silent sign to hold still, a sign that you instantly obeyed. But there was nothing that could stop your head falling back on his shoulder as Elvis' fingers rubbed through your glistening folds, slick coating them.

Your breathing had now become erratic with breathy pants leaving your lips as the urge to mewl at the sensation grew and grew.

"Good girl, gotta keep quiet huh?" Elvis hushed, making you want to whine but you knew you couldn't draw any attention to the pair of you. "Now, pay attention to your movie baby." Elvis said, teasing you as he knew you were struggling with even keeping your eyes open, let alone concentrating on the movie on the screen but he just wanted to make you into a little mess.

And without warning, Elvis slipped a finger into your hole, your muscles tightening around it as you whimpered softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the searing pleasure and burn of it.

"That's it, taking it like such a good girl, ain'tchu?" Elvis soothed in your ear, knowing the torment he was putting you through by not letting you moan and whine like you normally would in Graceland.

You managed a feeble nod as your wet lashes fluttered, drinking in the pleasure as Elvis stretched your walls.

"Would you like another one?" Elvis asked cooly, a gloating smile taking over his face as you quickly nodded.

"Yes." You hissed, inadvertently rocking your hips ever so slightly, getting all desperate for Elvis' touch.

But Elvis wasn't one to give up control as he swatted your side at your movements, tsk-ing at you disapprovingly.

"Uh-uh Little, you just sit tight and keep them eyes on the screen and behave." Elvis reprimanded, as he stretched you further, putting in another finger, pumping them in and out of your pretty pussy, placing gentle kisses on your cheek and neck, overstimulating you more and more by the minute.

Your face was all flushed and pink, your hands balmy as you gripped onto Elvis' strong arm that was across your tummy with one of them and continued to hold the box of popcorn tightly with the other.

Elvis quickened his pace in you, watching with intensity as he watched a tear fall from your wet lashes. "Mmm baby, yer so sweet n' soaked, ain't ya?" Elvis teased lowly, watching you furrow your brow, trying so hard to be a good girl like you'd been told and keep in the moans you wanted to desperately to let out.

At this point, you're in total bliss, you're nothing more than a dripping mess in Elvis' arms, totally succumbed to his touch and desperate for more of it.

And this is exactly why Elvis is just so in love with you. You're his little dolly, to use exactly the way he wants, whenever he wants. It doesn't matter if the entire Memphis Mafia are 10 rows behind you, it doesn't matter if this is your favourite movie that you haven't seen for years, it doesn't matter that your panties are by your ankles in the middle of the Memphian, all that matters is that you belong to Elvis.

Truth be told, despite Elvis telling you multiple times not to make a peep, he didn't actually care if anyone heard the two of you, in fact, it turned him on to know that he had this sort of dominance and power over you that everyone would know that you're his, that you listen and follow every word that comes out of his mouth, that you love him just as much as he loves you.

You can feel that 'love' underneath you too, rock hard and huge, pressing into your ass, as he continues to pump his fingers into you and you bite your lip in a desperate bid not to cry out loud.

It didn't take long for Elvis to quicken his already fast pace on you, sending you into sensory overload, not being able to cope and hold it in any more.

"Let it out f'me." Elvis soothed sternly and it wouldn't be a lie to say your vision went all blurry and starry as your mind become clouded and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your body and your pussy leaking on Elvis' fingers and pant leg.

You couldn't help but let out a gasp as Elvis removed his fingers from you and Elvis didn't reprimand you this time, knowing that all you'd been was a good girl for him.

Elvis manouvered you ever so slightly so he could grab your damp panties that had fallen to your ankles and pocketed them before you had the chance to lazily grab them, he'd give them back to you when you both arrived back to Graceland.

Elvis watched you with that shit-eating grin on his face as you blinked hazily, looking adorably dumb-founded as you sat in his lap, cum dripping down your bare leg as you looked up at him with that gorgeous, innocent gaze that Elvis could simply die for.

"You're gon' miss the movie dolly." Elvis said softly, pointing his ring clad finger at the screen, as he rubbed soothing circles in your back, knowing you'd be begging to come back to the movie theatre in no time.

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stvolanis · 4 months

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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!!

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veryberryjelly · 5 months

Text

bookshop and cafe date with jason todd <3

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

someone headcanoned that jacob elordi is jason todd and i can't get it out of my head .!!.

models in this moodpboard are not any depiction of s/o, just the aesthetic of the photos

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angelinajoulie · 1 year

Text

At his mercy.

Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.

Pairing: dom!Austin Butler x shy!girlfriend!reader

Summary: Austin fucks you in his ‘The late late show’ suit.

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT. this is PURE FILTH; age gap; austin is definitely a DOM in this (you can't tell me otherwise); swearing; pet names; fingers sucking; oral (m receiving); size kink; praise kink; austin referring to himself as daddy (just twice); unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it); creampie; cockwarming (sorta??).

a/n: English is not my first language, this is the first time I’ve written from Italian to English and after two months of writing and translating this work I really don't know what came out, so please forgive any mistake✨ leave a comment down here and let me know what you think✨

Enjoy!

It's late at night, the lights outside are already out, and the street lamps are the only ones left to light the wet road while everything around is sleeping and waiting for a new day to come. Not a sound, not a noise is bothering the atmosphere outside except for the sweet rustles of trees on the street as a black Range Rover nears the driveway.

Shortly after, the sudden noise of a door opening makes you skip a beat, taking you off-guard and waking you from your sleep. He is back.

Your eyelids open slowly and you instinctively look at the alarm on the nightstand. 1:30 am.

"As usual," you think.

It takes you a little to realize that you fell asleep too early and didn't wait awake for him— as you always do, but you had a very stressful day at college and you couldn't help yourself to give in to the comfy bed beneath you.

So you decide to wait for him to make his way into the bedroom before you can close your eyes again.

You hear him from upstairs while he tosses the keys on the side table at the entrance, then a series of muffled noises follow.

And then, again, silence.

You feel your eyes getting heavy and you know that you'll fall asleep soon. But not without him.

And noticing he's still not gone upstairs yet you decide to get down to him.

You rise from the bed and a breath of wind wraps around your shoulders as soon as the blanket leaves your body, leading you to wear your white satin robe before going downstairs.

Your bare feet meet every cold step unnoticeably, the high temperature difference between the two floors causing you to shrug.

You're searching for him, your eyes are looking at every corner of the living room while waiting to catch his figure until your feet finally touch the ground.

You see him.

Standing in front of the cupboard against the wall, bottle in his hand as he pours himself a large glass of whiskey.

Austin.

He is wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit from Prada that perfectly matches his blue eyes, the jacket left open to reveal a black mesh shirt, half undone and barely covering his toned, tanned chest.

It suits him heavenly.

His eyes look up to meet yours as soon as he feels your presence.

“Hey” he murmurs in a low and raspy voice.

“Hi” you respond and get closer to him, trying to greet him properly.

Seeing you lean in he puts the bottle back in its place and in no time you feel his arm around your waist. Austin lowers his head for his lips to meet yours in a chaste and tender kiss, the first one after an entire day away from each other.

Your hand travels up his spine, reaching the nape of his neck and starting caressing it, your fingers sneaking between his hair gently as you hold yourself closer to his chest. His body is so warm against yours, his warmth filling your heart completely and making you feel safe in the tight grip of his strong arms.

You’ve missed him so much.

The last period has been very exhausting for him, every day passes between interviews, photoshoots and premieres and he's terribly busy, and considering that you too have your things to do with college and all, you're both forced to be apart from each other. But despite all of this, you always try to do your best to support him, following him at the events when possible or watching him on TV, waiting for him until he gets home— like you should've done today too.

Soon your lips move away with a tiny 'pop' and your eyes meet, a shy smile appearing on both of your faces.

“How was your day?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Great, just a lil tiring” he sighs, caressing your hip gently “have you seen the show?”

You nod without hesitation.

“Of course I did,” a sense of pride overwhelms you seeing him smile slightly at your obviousness “just for you.”

“Really?” he grins, pretending to be surprised as his eyes look down at yours and you nod again.

“Yeah”

“Good girl” he places two of his fingers under your chin, lifting it up for your lips to meet his again in a quick kiss before he pulls away from you and takes the full glass of whiskey in his hand.

You shudder thinking about the pet name.

Good girl...

“And what about you? How was college today?”

Your gaze never leaves him, following each one of his movements while he reaches the couch and takes a seat between the black leather cushions. A shiver runs down your spine, stopping right on your lower stomach. Your mind gets fuzzy, distracting you from his question.

Legs wide apart, broad shoulders resting on the back of the sofa, his right hand on his knee and thigh as the left one brings the edge of the glass towards his mouth, needing a sip. The bitter and yellowish liquid runs down his throat, and his eyes shut just for a second until he swallows it, licking his plump lips after.

You feel yourself throb around nothing at the sight of him manspreading, and your thighs instantly rub together at the thought of every single time you've seen him doing that same thing: eyes closed, lips and tongue wet— not from whiskey.

You don't know why, you don't even know how to explain it to yourself, but seeing him like this sparked something inside you since you saw him on ‘The Late Late Show’ tonight. Something able to keep your mouth shut and your eyes glued to him.

He looks so confident. So dominant. So powerful. Right now, he could move mountains at his pleasure just by lifting a finger if he only wanted to.

And that damn suit... God, you want to sit on his lap so bad.

You'd do it immediately if only you weren't so shy to stand still at your place, merely biting at your lower lip while fantasizing about the mighty man in front of you, a gesture so simple but not enough to go unnoticed— not to him. Not to Austin.

His icy eyes linger on you again and this is the exact moment where you come back to reality and blush.

“What's up?” your awkwardness leads you to open your mouth and talk before you can remember a very important detail.

You still haven't answered his question.

“I asked you” he emphasizes, his tone sharp and deep as he takes in another sip and his tongue runs over his lips to wipe them more slowly and languidly than before, never taking his eyes off of yours “how was college today, angel?”

A mischievous grin appears on his face, the name that always knew how to make your stomach twirl makes you understand everything.

You got caught.

“G-good...” you stutter, coughing slightly as your cheeks are on fire for both arousal and embarrassment in front of that one clear consciousness.

You have a lot on your mind at the moment, a thousand thoughts are running through your head and Austin can read every single one of them.

And you know that he can, you know that he knows what you're thinking about.

Austin knows everything about you.

Because he knows you too well.

He can see from a mile away that something inside you snapped. Your body language is enough to let him know what you want and what you need.

He's tired, the only thing he needs at the moment is to finish his drink, take his clothes off and go to sleep with you, but seeing you wearing nothing but that white silk robe that barely covers your thighs as you bashfully bite your lip, thinking about all the shameless things you want him to do to you, is enough to drive him crazy too.

Because he'll never get enough of you.

He lifts his right hand and two of his fingers gesture you to get close.

“C'mere” his order is like liquid gold for you. You walk towards him without blinking, reaching the couch, stepping in front of him as if you've been waiting to all day.

Austin quickly swallows the last drop of whiskey, leaving the now empty glass on the table before grabbing your wrist and putting you between his spread legs.

His fingers manage to undo the tight bow of your robe, taking it off of you to reveal a lovely black satin nightie under it, one of the many he bought you to make up for the many others he ripped off of your body: soft to the touch, lightweight, with thin stripes and lace hems, short enough to leave your ass exposed.

No doubt that it's his favorite one. You're a goddess in it.

His forefinger traces a line up your thigh and reaches the hem of your nightie, your cheeks reddening as soon as he lifts it up, giving you goosebumps.

Austin feels his cock throb in his pants at the sight.

You aren't wearing panties. As he wished.

“No panties, mh?” you shook your head no, feeling the heat starting to pool right on your bare center and your heart pounding in your chest.

You feel so exposed under his touch, so weak, so small, so vulnerable at the feeling of your skin burning under his lingering hot gaze. Your body is completely at his mercy, poorly covered by that tiny piece of fabric while Austin still has his suit on, fully clothed from head to toe, looking at you like an uncompromising master who's thinking about the right treat for his good submissive. And in the darkest and deepest part of yourself, you're loving it.

You love that he always wants to be in control. You love being controlled by him.

At the moment you just want to follow his rules, please him, worship him, be punished if needed, because you want to be a good girl for him and him only.

“Get on your knees, angel.” and when his order comes, you can do nothing more than obey.

Your knees fall to the floor with a soft thud, hands anchored on his thick thighs as you're face to face with his crotch.

Austin's fingers are under your chin again, a gentle reminder for you to pull your gaze up to his face, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

His baby blues are darkened, filled with craving and lust as they meet your shy and innocent ones waiting for mercy, for him to choose their fate and what is better for them.

Like an angel at God's feet.

“You're such a good little girl for me, you know this?” his voice gets deeper enough to make you feel soaked as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

“So submissive” he praises you in a whisper, his calloused digits moving to caress your cheek, allowing you to surrender to his touch by resting your head on his thigh.

“So responsive” the intense feeling of the cold gold of his rings hits your warm skin and your spine tingles.

His voice is so soft, yet so firm while he praises you that a weak moan leaves your parted lips, Austin taking advantage of it to shove two of his long fingers in your mouth. You know what to do so you embrace them with no hesitation and start sucking, wrapping your lips and tongue around his knuckles as the metallic taste grows strong in your mouth.

“So greedy...”

You are a vision to him, you look so tempting that his hand falls on his crotch to palm himself, his growing erection begging to be freed from his slacks and swallowed up by your throat.

“Bet your pretty little head's just thinking about one thing since I came home, doesn't it?” you nod frantically, his wet digits still in your mouth before he retracts them.

“Use your words.” authority drips from his tone and you sigh.

“Y-yes...” not enough.

“Yes what, angel?” your head lowers again in front of his request but he holds you still in place, grabbing your jaw “Look at me”

“I...” words get stuck in your throat, too shy to let them slip out easily.

“C'mon, don't be shy. Wanna hear you say it” he spurs “what's on your mind?”

Your heart keeps pounding as never before, and at this point, you don't even know how but you say it.

“I want your cock.”

“And where do you want it, angel?” he smirks as he adjusts himself between the cushions, your thighs clenching together to hide the wetness between them.

You love everything about him and the thing you love most is that he's able to read your mind without talking, but right now it seems like he has forgotten about this ability of his own. And you're hating him for this.

Because you know he's doing it on purpose.

He wants to hear your voice.

He wants to hear you beg.

He wants to hear your innocent mouth tell him the dirty things you want from him, the things he knows that make you feel all small and weak.

For this reason you swallow thickly, and gasping with your heart on your sleeve, you answer.

“In m-my mouth.”

“Then take it.” his words are the only green light you needed to put your shyness aside and leave room for the actions you're going to do in silence.

You reach the fly of his trousers with both hands, unzipping it and slipping between the black fabric of his briefs, freeing his cock.

You take it in your hand, he's already hard as it springs free against his stomach, the contact of your fingers against his weak flesh making him gasp.

You feel him. Long, warm and veiny, the tip already reddened and leaking with precum.

Your mouth waters at the sight. You need to make him feel good so bad.

You sit better on your own thighs, adjusting yourself to avoid the feeling of your knees pressing against the carpet before running your hand along his shaft.

Your strokes are slow and gentle, your fingers applying a small amount of pressure, making him breathe heavily.

“Angel...” he's so eager to feel you, the way his hips are bucking up to meet your strokes is silently proving it. So you decide to indulge him.

You lean forward and your lips start kissing his length from the base to the tip. You tease his slit with your thumb before starting to leave kitten licks on his head, feeling his salty taste exploding on your taste buds.

“Mmm, little one...” a deep groan falls from his lips and goes straight to your soaked center, making you shudder in your place “I love feeling your mouth on my cock...”

He seems so much weaker than before, and a strong sense of power washes over you.

“Fuck...” he swears, adjusting the blonde locks falling on his forehead.

The sensation of your warm mouth around his girth already sending him into a state of pure bliss “I'm not going to last long”.

You take a deep breath through your nose and start sucking, slowly moving your head up and down his cock as far as you can, trying your best to please him. His hand ends behind your head, his fingers holding you close to him as he'd never let you go.

“Yes, baby” he grunts “you feel so good”

Arousal is growing more and more inside of you, your pussy getting wetter as juices start flowing out of you because of hearing him moan.

You feel so bold right now, a sense of euphoria takes over you all of a sudden and makes you grind uncontrollably, searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs while your head bobs faster around him.

“Yes, just like that, keep going baby...” you do as you're told. You keep sucking, and Austin's grip between your hair tightens.

The cool metal of his rings presses against the nape of your neck, his knuckles turning white and his protruding veins popping out as he applies more pressure to guide your hips at his own pace, making you feel trapped under his grip— under his control.

Right now you're the one giving him pleasure but it doesn't matter. He'll always know how to control you and be in charge.

Your throat is becoming sore and dry, some locks are covering your sweaty forehead and falling on his pubic bone as little tears are forming at the corners of your eyes.

You're a complete mess.

“My pretty little angel- shit, I'm going to fuck your pussy so good” his promise hits you right at your core and a choked moan escapes from your lips, the vibration is so intense against the head of his cock that he jerks frantically.

“Oh god!” his eyebrows furrow, his tight grip around your neck forces you to swallow more of him until he's hitting the back of your throat.

You can't take it anymore. You pull away from him, your fingers never stopping to rub his cock. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you breathe feverishly, searching for air to fill your lungs but Austin is quicker than any move you can make and leans toward your lips.

“Wanna cum inside you.” he tugs you into his mouth hungrily and you moan in both surprise and excitement. You are both panting at the same pace, his tongue slides into your wide-open mouth starting a steamy make-out session where your lips crash between grunts and bite each other without mercy.

Austin moves both his hands on your covered back and you sit up to climb on top of him. Your legs surround his thick thighs and your hands run everywhere on his sweaty chest and around his neck.

“I love you” he breathes on your lips, between heated kisses “so much”

“I love you too, Aus- ah!” his throbbing cock pushes against your soaked folds, making you gasp and jolt. The thrill is too much, you're so desperate that you start grinding against him, searching for friction to stop the hundreds of shocks running down your spine and hitting your womanhood repeatedly.

Your skin burns under his touch. You want him. You need him. You crave him.

And he knows it.

His hand stops on your asscheek, underneath the fabric of your nightie as his teeth keep biting your bottom lip voraciously, his fingers squeezing your flesh before grasping the hem of your nightie.

Austin takes it off of you and tosses it to the side.

Now you're fully naked on his lap, your breasts are pressed against his half-covered chest and your stomach shakes at the sensation of being so exposed while he's overdressed.

He leans forward a bit enough to bring his hands behind his back and take off his jacket.

“No!” your voice leaves your throat in a worried shriek, bringing out a primal emotion hidden in the deepest part of you.

Austin halts and looks you in the eyes, urging you to give him reasons. You blush.

You can't run away.

“L-leave it on...” you swallow thickly, hair falling on your face, hiding your awkwardness from him. Right now you're ashamed to death for this implied confession and his silence is not helping to ease your feeling.

He simply keeps staring at you, with those damned eyes that know how to make you melt, and without saying a word he kisses you again.

His tongue hungrily pushes itself into your mouth, giving you goosebumps as his fingers slide down straight between your folds, coating in your juices.

Now he can feel it.

“Fuck, you're dripping” his touch is so slight and lasts only for a moment, making you moan against his lips "all this wet just for sucking daddy's cock and seeing him in this suit, mh?"

“Please, Aus...”

“Who knew a stupid suit would make my little girl so eager?”

You don't answer and your shyness seems to no longer exist.

You just keep grinding against him, more desperate than ever while his tip rubs against your throbbing clit; he grasps his cock with his hand, adjusting himself on the couch and lining up with your slit, teasing it as your heart aches in eagerness and you can do nothing more than keep begging him shamelessly.

Hearing you beg is making him crazy, he swears he could stand still for hours only to hear you beg with your tear-filled eyes, but right now he just wants you too much to do it.

“Please, I need you”

You don't need to say anything else. His tip pushes inside your cunt and right after he grips your waist forcefully. His entire length slides inside you slowly, your mouth curving in a perfect 'o' from which nothing comes out as you pull away from his lips. Your breath hitches as he makes you sink onto him until you feel his pubic bone hitting against your swollen clit.

You're stuck, unable to breathe. You squeeze your eyes shout and cry out.

“Oh!” you feel so full. Full of him.

He gives you a few seconds to get used to his presence inside you and a heavy breath releases from his chest.

“Shit, you're so tight” he curses under his breath, bottom lip between his sparkling teeth and eyes closed for pleasure.

And then he starts guiding you onto him and you let yourself get carried by his hands, feeble like jelly as you meet his thrusts, moving slowly, moaning weakly.

“Aus” you whimper, each one of your moves against him only stretching you open more.

“Shh angel, you can handle it” he coos softly in your ear, leaving sweet kisses behind your lobe, helping you to ease the pain.

Your thighs are trembling as they wrap around his and your fingers slide between his blonde locks, trying to hold him closer than ever.

From this position, you can feel him completely. Every inch, curve, vein, and single part of him is inside you to the brim and is filling you perfectly with a combination of pain and pleasure that only Austin can give you.

You open your eyes and look at him. He's already staring at you and now your gazes lock together, making you both feel more connected with your soul than just your bodies and skin.

Your breaths mingle, your lips only a few inches distant from each other and ready to touch again with each thrust.

“You're taking me so well” he murmurs.

His forehead is sweaty, his lips are plump and red like yours, his jaw clenching as he watches you fall apart on his cock and babble something in response before moaning, struggling to take him.

You feel that familiar coil growing in you, your walls clench around his girth and you feel the base of your stomach burn every time his tip caresses your cervix.

It's too much for you. You stop, ready to surrender to his touch, but Austin holds you in place.

“Ah-ah. Stay still, pretty girl.” his fingers force you to sit straight, impaling you more and more on his cock.

“I-i can't...”

“C'mon little one, don't be a brat” he warns you as he starts guiding your hips again, with slow but intense strokes, the stimulation leading a whine to escape your lips before you stop again.

“Hmmph... t-too much...” you babble, it's the only thing you're barely able to say. You can't even talk.

It's so good, you just wish you had the strength to ride him faster but his cock's hitting you so deep you swear you could die in his arms.

Suddenly something draws his attention and forces him to look down.

You feel his hand press on your belly and you gasp in surprise. So you lower your head as well and see the outline of his cock poking out of your stomach.

The vision makes his cock twitch and your walls squeeze around him. He's in your guts.

“God, you look so hot like this” his gaze is burning on your skin, and you can say he definitely loves the sight in front of him. His pupils are dilated, and his breath is getting heavier. He's addicted “Small, desperate, and full of my cock”

You moan hard, turned on by his words and seeing how much he's going deep inside you with every stroke.

“‘s so deep inside you, uh?” he mocks you, his thumb rubbing your tummy as your eyes meet each other again.

“Y-yes! S-so deep” hearing your voice cracked and desperate leads him to one conclusion.

“Think you need daddy's help” suddenly his grip on your flesh tightens and with no warning he pushes you down onto him brutally, slamming his cock into you, bucking his hips upwards to start thrusting deeper, harder.

In a matter of seconds, your nails dig into the back of his hands and you scream, tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Aus- oh, god!” you moan louder, your mouth wide open as ecstasy takes over you, leading you to shake uncontrollably against his hips, making him grunt and moan.

“Keep moving, angel, don't stop...” he whispers as you try to follow his orders as far as your body permits you.

His cock is buried in you, he is fucking you so good you're barely able to move properly.

“Yes, just like that, baby, you're so good” his words keep hitting at your core, only spurring you to push yourself to your own limits as he starts leaving wet kisses on your throat “My good girl...”

"Please, please, please!" the fire inside you is ready to burst, your peak is getting closer and you want more.

“You wanna cum, angel?”

“Yes, yes please, n-need to cum!” hot tears start streaming down your cheeks and you moan again, again and again, scratching his hands and leaving bruises on his knuckles.

Everything seems to be so intense. Sweat is soaking your bodies, immersing you both in a hot-as-hell shower. The wet sound of bones and skins slapping floods your ears, your juices flowing down your thighs ruining the fine fabric of his expensive trousers.

You're so close and so is he. You feel in heaven.

“Then cum baby, cum around my cock” his voice shakes you inside, his tip hits that sweet spot in you and your vision goes blurry.

“Austin!” you cry out, your throat rips apart for the strength of your climax. Your orgasm washes over you and you convulse, the shocks running through your body are too strong and leave you powerless as you collapse on his chest.

“Fucking god” soon a growl of satisfaction slips from his throat, and his abdomen tightens underneath you. His grip loosens, thick ropes of his white cum spill inside you and paint your walls, making you shiver.

The room is now filled with silence, interrupted every now and then by the racing breaths escaping from both of your lungs.

You're exhausted.

“You did so good, angel, so good” he starts caressing your head gently, his praises warming your heart as you try to recover from the passionate fuck you two just had, but before you can say anything he picks you up and gets off the couch.

You whimper in surprise, finding the strenght to tie your legs and arms around the soft fabric of his suit as Austin's cock is still hard inside you.

“Let's go t' bed, baby” he announces, a wicked grin crossing his face “Wanna see how deep I can fill this pussy if I let you ride me on the mattress”

a/n: okay sooo… what do you think? would you like to read anything else? i got five or six ideas to write in my drafts already 👀

Tag-list: @pennyroyalcreep @bcofl0ve @houndogsblog @gigisworldsstuff @emmaolsen @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @fuckhoes1123 @cchl @auranightangle @spirited-away-to-mandalore @donnamarie23 @ab4eva @dancer4j @kibumslatina @denised916 @faeolwen @alqvarde @lilmisswoo93 @oldermenluverrr @eliseinmemphis @purejasmine @lillypink @sournatromanoff @lukedorkyhemmings @claudia-barnes @bo-burnhxm @lilac-presley @onlyangelssing @amorx

(the tag list is OPEN, comment down here if you wanna be added!)

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starryschoolgirl · 7 months

Text

Responsibilities (of marriage)

Summary -> Even though the two of you may have a little fight here and there, Elvis reminds you that regardless of your feelings, you still have your marital duties to abide by, it's what holds a union together. Your responsibilities as a wife. And to keep him, you're bound to fulfill them because Lord knows he can have them filled anytime anyplace.

Warnings -> Jealousy, the brutally soft/appeasing nature of the reader can be annoying to some people, smut, p in v, possible dacryphilia, unprotected sex, sex in a house full of people(?), kitchen sex, entitlement to a woman's body, innocence/inexperience kink, threats of infidelity, dismissed jealousy, Elvis gets pervy with panties, ass slapping, outdated views on how marriage/being married should be, swearing, talks of 'breaking in' girl's vagina, repeated denial of sex, persuasion for sex, this is quite dubious at certain points

WC -> 5.6k

Edit: This is an installment of the Baby Love au!!

This could only have come to fruition thanks to the wonderful input of @yourfavoritedreamgirlblog, thank you Lovely for the help

As another song came to a wrap Elvis made sure to send a smile to every girl in the room, along with a few of the guys who watched from their places at the fold-out table they used to play cards on, having their respective girls on their laps.

Squeals of excited ecstasy left the mouths of the girls that surrounded Elvis as he sang one last sweet, drawn-out note.

This kind of night wasn't an unusual occurrence, Elvis often held jam sessions with girls there to praise him because for some reason your words and the words of his entourage weren't enough to satisfy his ego. It had started happening a lot more since you and Elvis officially tied the knot, not even a month ago now.

But tonight it wasn't in you to be the cool wife, to be just the wife. The wife who was sweet and unthreatened by the floozies Elvis would let into the house, into your home. A strange swirl of anger and sadness had been giving you a headache for the entirety of the jam session. It either stemmed from your waves of emotions, or it was the fumes of how much perfume these girls were spritzing all over themselves, filling your house with the scent of them.

It also didn't help that Elvis had been paying special attention to the girls tonight, usually he'd take time to look at you and smile at you throughout the session, but tonight he hadn't given you any attention.

Biting down on your wobbly lip, you watched from afar on the plush couch, Elvis sat on a stool a few feet away, his guitar sitting on his lap as a group of girls sat at his feet like concubines. The girls were meant to be there for the other guys, at least that's what Elvis had always said to you. Joe would go down and pull a few pretty girls from the gate of your California home and drag them up to the house so that they could entertain the boys.

As your nails dug little crescents into your palms Elvis' laughter boomed over the shrill giggles of the girls sitting at his feet, he then asked as he stared down at a particular green-eyed blonde,

"Got another request?"

Just then a different girl wearing a skin-tight green dress crawled forward slightly, putting her hand on Elvis' knee as she suggested with those big batting false lashes,

"Could you read to us again?"

Elvis smiled down at her sweetly and put his hand over hers as he purred,

"'Course Doll… And by the way,"

He went on about how pretty her makeup was done and that led to another girl clinging to his leg and asking coyly, "What about my eyelashes Mr. Presley? They're natural.", everyone in the room knew they weren't, even Elvis, but he'd feed into the girl's words because she was just so cute.

As the group continued to converse with Elvis' preferences being the focus, you bit your manicured nails harshly, feeling tears build up in your eyes as you watched this all go down in your home.

Your legs bounced nervously, but only seconds later a woman turned her head back to the sound of your heels clicking against the wood floor. Her stare wasn't nice or sweet, it looked closer to disgust. Your nervous habit came to a halt, not wanting to be bothersome to anybody even in your own house.

As her head turned back to Elvis her hair flicked with it. You pulled your nails from your mouth and let them rest in your lap, the paint on your pointer and middle fingernails was chipped. You'd have to fix the ugly mistake tonight.

Elvis' conversation with the girls came to a stop as he decided to fulfill the blonde's wish, and for the first time tonight he looked over to you with a hand pointed to the cushion next to you where he left one of his religious books,

"Honey, could ya grab my book f'me?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes and immediately stepped into action, grabbing his book gently and stepping around the girls who stared up at you with unreadable gazes. You mumbled quiet apologies as you tried to step around them to get to Elvis, you felt like an inconvenience, and you knew you shouldn't, but you did.

As Elvis grabbed the book from you, instead of smiling and mumbling a 'thank you', his eyes caught the imperfection on your nails. He grabbed your wrist gently and turned it so that he could get a better look at your hand, with a soft laugh he spoke bluntly,

"Your polish is chipped Honey,"

A few girls giggled along with his laugh, but you knew they weren't laughing out of love the way (you hoped) Elvis was. They were laughing because even the smallest glimpse of imperfection from a woman married to a man like Elvis was pathetic. It gave them the idea that they had a chance with Elvis. Little Miss Perfect made a mistake, so they had an opening. You felt a blush of embarrassment fall over your face and softly stuttered,

"I-I know, I'll fix it"

Elvis stared at you with a small smile, his thumb gliding across the smooth skin of your wrist as he mumbled,

"I think it's best ya do"

The attention on you at the moment was making you antsy and irritable. You just wanted to go back to being a decoration in the corner of the house. Something that no one but Elvis would pay any mind to. The uncomfortable feeling of having the eyes of girls you didn't even want in the house on you was weighing on your mind and your words.

You looked down at the tips of your heels and avoided eye contact as you quietly repeated yourself to get yourself out of the situation as fast as possible,

"I said I'll fix it."

His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly at his sweet little girl's tone, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to leave a mark but not so much that the girls that surrounded you could see it. His smile turned patronizing as he tilted his head a little. He spoke through a breathy laugh,

"Shouldn't have chipped it in the first place Doll…"

The laughs of the other girls sounded like a soft hum as you stared at your feet, nodding in silence as you chewed your lower lip, feeling tears build up in your eyes once again. After he got your nod he let go of your wrist, but instead of turning to head back to the couch, you turned a different way, as you made your way through the girls in a different direction. As you walked you murmured a soft, "Excuse me", a quiet, "Sorry", and a shaky, "P-pardon me"

As you began to quickly make your way to the doorway that led to the kitchen you could hear Elvis ask, "Where ya goin' Hon?" and you continued without looking back or speaking, fearing that if you did he'd see your teary eyes and hear the cracks in your voice.

Thankfully the kitchen was a completely separate room, and though you could still hear everything going on in the living room, it was more subdued despite that the entry to the kitchen was open and free for noise to flow in and out. You sniffled softly and stared down at your nails, finally taking in the ugliness of the chipping at your polish.

You walked over to the medicine cabinet just above the stove, you were tall enough to open it but unfortunately, you weren't tall enough to reach inside so you had to grab one of the stools that were used as seating for the island counter, shakily standing on it as you continued to sniffle.

Your search for the nail polish remover was a hard one, maybe it was due to the tears that filled your eyes and made your vision blur, but for some reason, you were having such a hard time finding it that you hadn't even noted that the strumming of the guitar in the other room had come to a stop, and Elvis' voice which sounded like a soft murmur from here in the kitchen had now disappeared from the air, like the scent of your favorite dinner after everyone had taken their portion.

It was only when you felt the rough callouses on Elvis' hands and the rings that adorned his fingers run along the inside of your thigh that you realized he must've stopped entertaining the girls at some point and entered the kitchen. He looked up at you as you stood on the stool while his hand continued to knead at the flesh of your thigh.

Your lip wobbled as you looked down at him and you quickly used the back of your hand to swipe your tears away as you noticed a frown tug at his lips. He mumbled in plain confusion,

"Why ya cryin'?"

You sighed softly, disguising it as a breathy laugh as you shook your head,

"It's nothing"

Elvis' hand that caressed your inner thigh ran down toward the back of your calf, rubbing upward and downward twice before he spoke pointedly with an unamused look on his face,

"If it's nothin' why'd ya leave? And why didn't you answer me?"

You looked down at him with widened eyes and quickly closed the cabinet so you could put all your focus on him, feeling apologetic as you'd forgotten about that.

"I-I didn't mean to- I was just, I was embarrassed…"

Elvis' laugh was low and dry, complimented perfectly by his rough voice and tightening grip on your calf,

"You were embarrassed? How'd ya think I felt after my wife ignored me in front of a whole fuckin' room of people?"

You kept yourself from wincing at his tone as you looked away from him, realizing how inconsiderate your actions were, and remembering your mother telling you that the wife is a representation of the man, that she is responsible for his image, and that she should always maintain decorum. Hardly married a month and you'd already made so many mistakes, this was just another notch to the bedpost.

Your voice was quiet as you breathed out another apology.

A silence ensued as Elvis' hand ran up your calf to your thigh, slipping up even further to touch the skin under your skirt. You turned abruptly which made him lose his touch on your skin, before stepping off the stool carefully. Your eyes were widened as you looked scandalized by even the prospect of what he was silently proposing.

As he moved the stool out of the way to clear his path toward you, arms reached out and landing around your waist. You put both your hands on his chest, the force you could evoke from yourself was a small pathetic one as you whispered up at him, "No, no, no…"

He smiled down at you and licked his lips, his girl was so smart.

"No what? Hm?"

Each stride of his pushed his body against yours, the contact would lose for a second as you took a step back, but he would follow up with another stride until you were pushed back against the counter, you could feel the hard granite pushing into the back of you.

He knew what he was suggesting, he knew what he was imploring with those fingers that danced too close to the lace lining of your panties under your skirt. He just wanted to hear you say it, to say you knew what he was implying.

You, his sweet little wife, having only recently had her cherry popped by her husband, a girl who while she dated him wasn't all that aware of sexual cues until now. And within the span of a few weeks, Elvis had broken you in all nice and proper, he'd taught you how to take a cock, and he loosened you up enough to where sex could be enjoyable.

And though the wedding was almost a month ago, he still cradles the idea that his darling bride is still new and flimsy, inexperienced and innocent.

He wanted to hear what he was turning you into. From a virgin bride who needed to be gently introduced to her marital duties, to a fucked-out wife who knew her place and knew when she needed to fulfill her responsibilities. Whether those responsibilities take place on the plush of your shared bed, the leather of the couch in Elvis' dressing rooms, or the hardened countertops in the kitchen.

It didn't matter, it was your responsibility.

"E-Elvis, there are people, they'll hear…"

Elvis' grip on your waist had firmed up as he leaned down to press little kisses along the side of your neck. One hand rose to gently get a grip on your hair as he used it to pull your head to the side, giving him more access to the skin. He mumbled softly into the skin,

"Isn't that what you want?"

You breathed out a confused, "What?" as his kisses continued up your chin and then to your cheek. He pulled back and smiled down at you, both his hands cupping your cheeks in the gentlest of ways,

"As subtle as ya think ya are, it's pretty easy f'me to tell when you're jealous"

Oh no. He knew.

Your mother always told you that a good wife doesn't get jealous, she shouldn't anyway.

She's the wife and that's the spot that matters, a man can have girlfriends if he wants to. Because the only way to keep a man happy is to let him have his cake and eat it too. Men were simple that way, they were greedy and lustful. And your mother told you that no matter how hard you work, there comes a point when a man will no longer lust over his wife, his eyes will travel elsewhere and that's a given. But you'll stay around as long as you're pleasant company because men are greedy.

You looked panicked as you tried to deny it with a shake of your head, your voice frantically soft in the way your mother always spoke to your father,

"I'm not-"

His voice was sharp as he easily cut through your denial,

"Think I'm stupid or somethin'? I know ya want those girls to know you're mine. So I'll be a good husband and comply with your wishes."

It was all falling apart, you should've just sat there and dealt with it like a good wife. As you realized the bunch you got yourself into you began to try to explain yourself, only to have your thoughts get all jumbled as Elvis pressed his body against yours entirely, his arms trapping you against him as he wrapped them around your waist. His nose was buried into the crook of your neck as he began tugging the neckline of your shirt down, when it didn't comply he simply began ripping it.

"Elvis don't!"

He mumbled into your skin, sounding a little annoyed as he did so,

"Would ya just shut the fuck up"

You blubbered with your hands attempting to push him away by his shoulders, you needed to explain to him that you were fine with the girls, you didn't care, you could be the placating wife a man like him no doubt needed. You really could. So the two of you didn't need to do it now, didn't need to do it here for anyone to walk in and see. For the people just one room away to hear.

Your voice was panicked as you continued despite his scolding,

"B-but, I'm not, I mean- We can't"

As Elvis continued to attack your neck he spoke roughly into the skin, "Goddammit" and pulled away, pulling you by your wrist over to the island counter, center of the kitchen and as big as a dining table. You tried to explain your viewpoint quickly,

"People will hear, I don't, please no, not here, c-can we go upstairs?"

He kept a bruising grip on your waist with one hand while the other grabbed your chin roughly, making you look him in the eye. Your breathing was ragged, not from means of pleasure, but rather your fear of having a displeased husband, having done something to make him look at you the way he was now. You're sure what's in his eyes is anger, fury, disappointment, and dissatisfaction.

"Look Honey, I don't wanna be an ass of a husband, but if that's what I gotta be to make this marriage work, then that's what I'll be."

You stared up at him with fear of what being an ass of a husband entailed. Was he going to find a girl who'd let him fuck her in this situation instead? Would he do that? No, he wouldn't… Your eyes watered at the idea.

Your tone sounded hurt as you said, "Elvis…"

As your eyes continued to fill with tears Elvis' hands flew down to your hips, quickly spinning your around to face the island and pressing his groin against your ass. The surface was digging painfully into where your hip bones were.

"If I have to fuck you face down over this damn counter so that this marriage can keep on keepin' on, then that's what I'm gonna do."

You gasped at his statement and tried to maneuver out from between him and the counter, but that only led to him grabbing you by the back of your neck with a gentle, but firm grip. He pushed you down by the neck till you were completely bent over the counter. As the cold granite snapped against your temple and cheek you whined softly, "Elvis, can we please do it upstairs? Please"

Even in this situation, you were still acting like a good little girl, still minding your manners, talking sweet and soft.

Elvis gave you an ultimatum from behind as he shifted his crotch slightly, letting you feel what you were doing to him,

"I don't wanna fuck you upstairs, I wanna do it here and now, if you won't I'm sure one of the other girls will."

You stayed bent over the counter pliantly, chewing the bottom of your lip with an internal battle, Elvis' voice interrupting it as he asked,

"Now then, I'm gonna make this marriage work, spent too long breakin' ya in to have ya turn into some naggin' old, jealous prude of a wife."

Before you could say anything in response he was already hiking your skirt up to have it pool around your hips as he kneaded your ass. You let out a strangled yelp as the sharp sound of Elvis slapping your ass filled the room. Followed by another. he leaned over your body and cupped your chin from behind as he littered kisses down your temple and cheek, growling into the skin, "Go on Baby, let them hear you, let them hear what I do to you."

Another slap of your ass filled the room followed by a cry. You hated that you liked it.

Elvis pulled back to stare at your pretty pink panties, his fingers toyed with the edge of the thin fabric. After ample admiring he tugged the sides down, eventually letting them drop and watching as they fell to your ankles. He smirked softly as he watched your small clumsy feet try to step out of them.

"Atta girl, knew my sweet girl would come 'round"

You hummed softly, happy with the tinge of approval in his voice. Your actions showed that you could be the kind of wife Elvis could fuck next to a room full of people, but your body betrayed you as you trembled with anxiety from the thought of someone else coming in and seeing you in this state. Seeing you acting like a whore.

As you heard the click of Elvis' belt buckle you inhaled a sharp breath of nerves. And though at this moment, any spectator might think Elvis was just another self-centered man who thought sex was only about the man's feelings, you knew Elvis was thinking of you, that by having not even fucked you yet he was being considerate. He could have easily pushed you against the counter and had his way with you a few minutes ago.

And he showed his silent consideration of your feelings as he kept one hand on your lower back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin while his fingers on his other hand fumbled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling out his length and quickly spitting onto his palm just to rub himself up.

Had it been any other man the image would've been disgusting, but when it was Elvis it was different. Because your husband wasn't like any other.

His hand that once soothed you drifted down to squeeze the globe of your ass before traveling even further South as he used two fingers to part the lips of your pussy. A soft squelch filled the air between to two of you as he parted you, it was proof that your body wanted him just as much as his wanted yours. The noise left him to hum pleasurably, and you to press your red-hot cheeks into the cold counter.

"What's this? Were ya secretly hopin' I'd fuck you over the counter?"

You whined softly at his insinuation. Squeezing your eyes shut in distaste as he reasoned, "No point in askin' I guess, I mean-" His eyes caught sight of your discarded pink panties on the floor and he quickly reached to grab them, laughing softly to himself as he saw all he needed. He continued, bringing your panties down for you to look them head-on.

Your face flushed at the sight and as you tried to turn it away his other hand gripped your chin roughly, the rings pinching at your skin as he made you stare at your own doing, laughing breathily, "The answer to my question is right here ain't it?"

And it was. You didn't want to admit it, but it was all true. The idea of, after repressing your jealousy night after night for so long, of finally letting everyone know you were his and he was yours… It was such a romantic idea. And for you, raised to only get your rocks off on romance books rather than boys, romance was the most erotic thing of all.

His two fingers that parted your pussy's lips squeezed their way through the folds, entering a much warmer, more enclosed area. Your vagina contracted slightly at the sudden intrusions of Elvis' long fingers, you let out a soft breathy moan, it was quiet for the most part but had a high pitch at the end that could give away that not all was normal in the kitchen.

He spoke breathily at the noise, "Oh Honey," it was a giveaway that he'd enjoyed hearing that sound leave you. You quickly flung your hand over your mouth as Elvis' fingers curled within your heat, the squelching continued with each movement, the larger his movements were, the louder the squelch would be. It amused him.

When he deemed you ready he pulled his fingers out, running the white discharge that stuck to his fingers along his length, using it as a lubricant of sorts, but really, he just loved how lewd the idea was. His special times with you always ended with your skin getting stained with the proof of his satisfaction. So when he could, he loved to lather his cock in your proof of satisfaction as if it were the most purifying of body washes. You getting cum on your face and him watching it begin to slowly slide down your skin was lewd and he knew deep down you loved it, this was his equivalent, this is what he loved.

His head fell back gently as he tugged at his foreskin again, making sure to get your discharge in all the little cracks and crevices before lining himself up behind you. You could feel the tip of him press against your lips, despite all his experience he always fumbled around a little down there, in his defense there were a few things to look out for before he could land himself in the gold mine.

You tried your best to brace yourself, but there wasn't much to grab on the counter, it wasn't like when Elvis fucked you on the bed and you could cry into a pillow and grasp at the sheets, the best you could do on the counter was hold onto the edges, it was worth a try though.

As Elvis pushed into you he groaned lowly, the noise only getting louder the further he pushed in. You did your best to keep quiet, to keep your dignity, but it was only due to you beginning to stand on your tippy toes to stop Elvis from getting his natural leverage due to height into you, it soothed the burn enough to where instead of moaning loudly you got by with a soft cry that you did your best to choke back.

Elvis noticed this and leaned down, careful not to shuffle around in you too much. He kissed your shoulder gently and murmured into the skin, his tone and words sweet for the first time this evening, as he spoke he sounded the way he always did when the two of you were alone, his public behavior now wearing off as he tried to soothe his wife.

"I know it's still hard Babydoll, but this is the only way it gets better, c'mon, come down from the tips of your sooties, ya can do it Baby, I know ya can…"

As Elvis continued to press gentle kisses along your shoulder you slowly eased yourself down from your toes, but the tug at your inner walls and the burn that followed was too much. You fell forward defeatedly onto the island counter, raising yourself back up to your toes as you cried softly into the hard surface,

"It hurts Elvis..! I can't, I can't"

Elvis grimaced and looked up to the ceiling like he was asking the Lord for patience as the throbbing and twitching of his cock was beginning to tingle him painfully, he needed to move, but he needed you to be ok with that.

With a gentle hold, Elvis moved your hair to the side so that he could press a gentle kiss on the back of your neck. You could feel and hear him murmur into the skin, his voice patient yet stern,

"You've done it before Mama, we've been workin' so hard. Don't ya remember it only burns at first, r'member how good it feels after?"

You nodded slowly, he watched from behind and quietly hummed, "There, now let yourself down on me Honey, all the way." His hands settled at your hips as he slowly helped guide you down from your tippy toes, you winced softly as you continued, and he encouraged, "A-almost there Baby, that's right, there…"

His last word had drawn off as his head fell backward from being completely engulfed within your heat.

Pulling out a little was easy, it was the going back in that was hard as it put the both of you right back where you started with you arching back up on your toes and crying out softly from the familiar yet painful intrusion.

Elvis swore quietly, "Fuck's sake…"

Though you felt bad for being so bothersome, you stuck with your actions. You'd never done the act in this position before, all the other times you and Elvis had sex up until now, it was always slow, sweet, and soft. There was never any pressure, and you never had to stand up.

You stuttered out as you felt your poor little toes begin to tremble from supporting your entire body for so long,

"It-It's not getting better, it b-burns"

Elvis grunted and laid his head on your back as he spoke through a sexual frustration from being granted access to your pussy just to have it taken away once again,

"It will get better."

You were being such a tease, well not purposely, but it still wasn't something that would fly with Elvis. He knew how to cut through to you though, he knew his bride was such a sweet girl, such a people pleaser, that she wouldn't be so difficult under different conditions.

Elvis pressed his head against your back, his tone of voice low and breathy as he asked,

"Remember all that breakin' in I did for ya? How good I was? I was good wasn't I, mama?"

You wanted to sob as you were stuck in a predicament, if you stopped Elvis would think you didn't think he was good enough, but if you kept going you were certain he'd tear you open from the inside out, or at least rip the crevice of your womanhood, the idea made you grimace painfully as you thought about it.

As you ducked your head into your shoulder to try and stifle a cry, Elvis was there for you to lean your cheek against instead. It was romantic, the feel of your wet tears that glided down your face as if they were shooting stars, rubbing up against his much dryer cheek, letting him feel the struggle he was putting you through. Letting him feel what he was doing to you for once while you knew all too well with a hardened cock up your pussy what you were doing to him.

He hummed soothingly and clicked his tongue once, twice, before murmuring as he placed a kiss on your damp cheek,

"I jus' need ya to trust me Honey, same way ya did on our wedding night"

His kisses danced along your cheek and lingered on your earlobe, nibbling the edge softly as his hand drifted around your waist, landing expertly at your clit as if he knew your body like a map.

"Don't tell me ya forgot about that already?" He whispered as his middle fingers began to circle that special little bud down there, making your hips twitch ever so slightly with the sensation.

You let out an airy moan as he added his index finger to the circling of your most sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing slow lazy circles as you felt the hot, wet edge of his tongue land on the skin just below your ear as he pressed gentle little kisses. His words were encouragingly sweet, "I've been neglectin' ya here, haven't I?"

Your hum was weak and broken as you tilted your head back, biting your lower lip,

"Mhm"

Elvis cooed softly and kept with his thumb's movement.

"Oh Baby, why didn't ya tell me?"

As the burn in your aching cunt loosened to a familiar warmth from Elvis' expert strumming of your clit your breaths became ragged and torn, just the small stroking of his fingers was turning you into a panting dog, a bitch in heat. With the warmth overcoming your pussy your body began to chase what it needed, your hips began to grind downward. The feeling of Elvis' length rubbing up and down ever so slightly within your walls as you continued to grind down what you could handle was a pornographic one.

As you could practically feel the shift of his foreskin within your cunt with each rise and fall of your hips, Elvis' hands now rested on them as he helped you broaden your movements, his hands squeezing your sides tightly as a low groan fell from his lips. "That's it, oh fuck…"

As his head fell back he brought a hand up to rest firmly on the center of your throat, pulling you back by it just barely so that your head could fall back on his chest. The breaths you both let out no doubt danced with each other in the air as you continued to grind down as best you could while his fingers strummed a tune on your clit which pulled the notes from your mouth as your breaths turned to airy moans.

Abruptly, Elvis gave a small thrust upward, the strength within the movement was enough to make you bounce slightly and let out an immediate moan of pleasure. You quickly flung your palm over your lips just for him to remove his hand from the center of your throat, now gripping your wrist and pulling your hand down to your chest as he murmured lowly,

"Let it out Honey, let 'em know you're mine, and I'm yours."

He began to grind upward into you slowly, working his way back to a thrust, each movement evoked a noise from you louder than the last, and as time went on the soft grinding of his groin into your ass as his dick plunged further up your heat turned to soft skin-to-skin claps with air between them. He tended to be loud as he chased what he needed.

He groaned into your neck as he pressed open-mouth kisses along it, your skin didn't even make a dent in minimizing the sound of his groans. He was loud and full of want, and as prudent as you were taught to be about sinful, sexual desires, it was the most liberating experience you could ever go through.

The smutty sounds of skin slapping on skin reverberated in the walls of the kitchen, stretching into the room just a thin privacy wall away. All the while Elvis was groaning and growling loudly against your skin, mumbling your name between groans and low moans.

His fingers kept their rhythm, so even in the chaos of Elvis' thrusts speeding and his body pushing yours against the hard granite of the counter to the point of bruising, he kept his fingers going just the way you liked. Your moans went up a pitch as you felt a feeling Elvis had introduced you to a few weeks ago on your wedding night, it was one you'd slowly begun to crave even when the two of you were doing something as simple as sitting in the car together. You could hold back and keep your dignity in those moments.

But now as the feelings lingered in your face and were oh so close, you felt like an addict who needed her high. Your voice cracked in a moan as you begged,

"Yes, just like that"

He growled breathily, his lips still dancing along your neck as his hips rocked into you from behind, his voice was breathy as he asked,

"Like that? Ya like it like that? Yeah?"

Your head hung back on his chest, your mouth open wide as your hips began to chase the sensations, "Yes Elvis, y-yes..!"

By now all the chatter that filled the house like background noise was completely silenced as the sounds of sex that filled the kitchen drifted into the other rooms. The air of the other room was awkward as your high-pitched moans which contrasted beautifully with Elvis' low groans were the only thing keeping the California house from silence. Everyone's assumptions were answered by the sudden increase in the volume of the skin-to-skin slapping along with of course your noises of ecstasy.

Elvis swore loudly into your neck, his voice reverberating against the soft skin,

"Fuck Baby!"

As he bit down roughly onto a rather sensitive spot your moans hit their height as you practically wailed, "Oh Elvis!"

And within the span of a second, that coil that played around ever so coyly in the space between your stomach and pussy had completely broken. Elvis' animalistic speed of rhythmic thrusts lost their rhythm and their speed as you felt a warmth like no other fill your body, his open-mouth kisses simply turned to his lips dragging lazily along your neck with a loud groan accompanying the skin.

His thrusts tampered down to deep grinds of his hips down into yours as you'd let out the heights of what your voice box could manage. Your mouth was still open wide but nothing leaving it as you'd reached nirvana.

Your body gave out as your legs trembled and you had to lean over onto the counter to support yourself. From behind Elvis' arms caged you against the island counter, his hands at either side of you pressed down onto the surface to support himself up. You let out a soft whimper as he slowly pulled out of you and fumbled around you from behind for a few moments, the familiar sound of his buckle could be heard.

Before you knew it his hands were on your hips turning you back around to face him, he was dressed, and in hand were the discarded panties of yours that he quickly shoved into the back pocket of his trousers.

Elvis' hands flew to smooth your hair back into place gently. They lingered on your temples as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your head, you closed your eyes in the process.

"You're so beautiful Honey, did so well for me…"

He quickly hiked your skirt back down to its proper length, and wrapped an arm around your waist, suggesting softly,

"We'll head upstairs for the night"

With the fucked-out look in your eyes he knew you needed rest and a shower. So he kept an arm around your waist and walked slowly with you out of the room. As the two of you passed the group in the living room you kept your eyes trained on the floor, knowing if you looked up, you'd only be met with looks of disgust from the girls that still occupied the floor of your living room, sitting around Elvis' stool as if it were a king's throne.

Elvis didn't spare them a glance as he only looked back toward Jerry and Joe, the two men were holding their cards without qualms at what they (and the rest of the house) were just exposed to listening to, as they'd heard that kind of thing more times than they could count coming from the two of you.

"Could y'all escort the girls out when you're done with 'em? Wife and I gonna be upstairs a while…"

With that simple statement, he helped you walk toward the staircase and kept a supporting hand on your lower back. Asking once, twice, three times, if you needed anything. You replied no.

All you needed was him, and that's exactly what you had.

And all the other girls knew it as a little something had fallen out of Elvis' pocket. It was hardly in his pocket to begin with. The boys wouldn't tell him, "Hey E, ya dropped somethin'" Because the boys knew the message he was sending to every girl in the room.

You were his, and he was yours.

Well, for my first time writing, I quite enjoyed that. Anyways...

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lustnhim · 10 days

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big daddy elvis (70s) photos 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis aaron presley #70s elvis #70s #elvis presely smut #elvis fans #elvis imagine #elvis the pelvis #elvis photos #austin butler #austin butler x reader #elvis #elvis smut #elvis x y/n

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marinas-drafts · 7 months

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Honeymoon

A Sky High Lovin’ segment, the swingin’ 60’s

Summary: If weddings are for the bride then it suggests that Honeymoon’s are for the groom -a stupid cliche you had dismissed until your dashing groom proves a little inexorable in his intent to “educate” his new bride on the long Learjet flight to Honolulu

Warnings 18+: (sex, dubious consent) I am about to possibly over exaggerate these cautions but I find it necessary, particularly for anyone who is used to reading my work because this is by far the most dubious consent piece I ever ever written and the theme is entirely narratively sympathetic to entitled husbands and female objectification. So, as it’s me, of course there’s love and tenderness but it’s also got -repeatedly denied requests to stop during sex, innocence kink, possible male enjoyment of a recent virgin’s discomfort, nasty baby talk, worry about a man being unfaithful if you deny him, talks of teaching you how to take him, (possible grooming?!) assumed husbandly entitlement to a wife’s body, archaic views on gender roles… y’all, I ripped off Pricilla and went full Lana Del Rey and glorified breaking a woman into her husbands tastes, like, that’s the theme and it’s reveling in it so, enjoy but heads up 🌷🎀🌷

Repost here from my main: @precious-little-scoundrel

There’s something very salacious in the simple act of walking across the tarmac amidst a swarm of reporters clicking away with their cameras, ready to print the image of your little figure pressed against his side, images for all the world to look at and know what occurred to you last night.

What you two did. How he made you his. On your wedding night.

He made you a woman, his woman and the whole world knows it now. There’s something so damn dirty about this, even -or perhaps because- of how traditional it is. The ring sits with a comforting weight on your finger as he holds your hand, and your belly aches from your husband drawing his pleasure from your virgin body, your thighs trembling as you try your best to keep up with his long strides in your kitten heels. It’s so proper, it’s everything he ever wanted, and it makes your cheeks burn beneath the generous layer of makeup.

He looks painfully handsome and happy this morning, impeccably polished in the bright sunshine and you wonder at his duality. The way he can clean up and regain his proud suavity when last night you had seen him mussed, tremblingly tender and near unhinged in his passion while consummating your union. A dab of pomade, a double breasted jacket and his wife’s little hand in his -he’s utterly in possession of himself now and is the fuckin’ American dream incarnate right in this moment.

He’s very proud as he introduces you to some of the familiar press faces, and very gallant as he guides you up the few steps into the Learjet, broad palm searing your lower back and you wish you two could have remained tangled up in sheets, honeymoon and travel arrangements abandoned indefinitely. Just you and him floating together in a sky of crisp sheets and tangled limbs.

The photographers crowd in after you, soaking up the shy way you cuddle in close as he tucks you into his side, sympathetic to your own desire to be alone but too happy to begrudge anyone a glimpse at his little prize. Uhem, bride. The amount of satisfaction he finds in you is palatable to all here, his arm around you holds you close and grounds you even as his face splitting grin proclaims that you were a tight but obedient fit last night.

Your eyes burn you’re blushing so hard and that makes him grin harder and it’s pavlovian that smile, you can’t help but grin back, harder and crinklier than his and that stokes his joy further and soon y’all are giggling over memories the photographers will never be privy to. Those are yours, frantic and tender and aching.

Even the ever hungry photographers are glutted by the loved up display you give them, and soon they are departing and the plane door is shut. Then it’s goodbye America, off to Honolulu.

The tiny jet crew and the couple of boys from his paired down entourage settle into their seats as the jet roars down the runway and lifts off, effortless, soaring and sleek. Beside him you are restless, shifting and jittery on the leather seat, though he is gratified to see the demure way you cross your ankles and the ladylike poise of your spine even surrounded by the comparative privacy. His perfect southern Belle, whose every thought and action and word is to reflect well upon him and keep his name from disrepute, he couldn’t have chosen better. Your mouthwatering submission last night proved it.

You squirm again. Maintaining the modest coverage of your pretty little shift dress, the one accented with navy bows that coordinate with his suit, requires you to keep your upper thighs pressed together tightly, squeezing the bruise of your freshly opened little flower as it pulses distractingly, as if in flustered shock at its sudden required usage. Throbbing, sticky and hot.

“What’s my lil lady doin all that fidgetin for, hmm?” he asks you, tone solicitous but his eyes glint, “Plush leather seats not soft enough for my baby’s bottom?”

You startle and blush, just as he knew you would, and it’s adorable really, the way you can still be bashful after months of foolin and despite the recent intimacy of the night before. And it’s downright precious that you are so sore and achy after he had been so painstakingly gentle when he took you. You had no clue how sweet he’d been, the amount of self sacrifice he had shown in his languid slide and shallow thrusts, tender kisses and gentle grip. Resolutely holding back the absolute wreckage he could unleash on your poor, widdle unsuspecting cunt.

“Just excited.” your body vibrates as you shake your arms to highlight your explanation, gesturing to the wide blue sky out your window and the decadent interior of the jet.

He grins down at you and kisses your cheek, reaching for the seatbelt fastened at your lower belly and he flicks it open with his thumb, the heat of his hand branding you like an iron for the brief contact. “Lemme show ya round then, baby.”

He folds your hand in his again and weaves you down the aisle between the padded seats and towards the back of the plane, the occasional stray crew member meekly ducking towards the cockpit. You two pass the music lounge with its built-in piano and electric fireplace, then the kitchenette with its circular bar and spherical burst of lights coming out of the wall like cascading planets, back towards the little bedroom. You marvel at the designs, the colors, the unabashed wealth of it all floating thousands of feet above solid earth.

Happy and giddy you tuck into his side and he holds you close, arm snug around your waist, satisfied to show his little wife all he has to offer her.

“Y'know,” he serves as your guide, supplying details and anecdotes, most of which you already know but would listen to, enraptured a thousand times to keep him free and easy with his conversation, “Frank n' i didn't really get along when i first started out. ‘Said my music was brutal n' ugly. But we get along now. met 'im in person right after i met you. Reckon' ya rubbed off on me 'cause now we're good friends n’he lent us this jet to defile as we saw fit." his tongue pokes between his teeth, amused at himself and you find there is something cutely self-deceptive about his rare fits of humble bragging. “He’s got a mirror down here, nice big ole Broadway style vanity with it, bright lights n’low counter.” you’re far back into the plane now, he holds back a dividing curtain and you step into the little hallway dressing room right in front of the inauspicious bedroom door, “Frank uses this setup to primp before goin down the ramp to meet fans or shovin off for the next concert, reckon it’ll serve for the lesson I wanna show ya.”

Curious as to his plan, you look to him, both his image reflected in the huge, bare bulbed mirror and his own dear face beside you, more than a little pleased to see what a striking couple you make in the reflection, with his tailored suit and your chic smock, an IT couple without a doubt. It makes you feel pretty, wanted, a little proud maybe. That you won out of all those other hopeful girls. He sees your pleased expression in the mirror, the way your hip cocks and your expression morphs to your best kittenish smile. You’re preening. You think you’ve made it, think you’re at the summit of what life can offer and he may be partial but he thinks you wear smugness rather cutely. Makes him wanna shake ya up, rumple you a little, remind you who gave you all this. That your new image and importance and identity are due to being Mrs Presley.

He scoots up behind you, wrapping his arms around your belly and pulling you close to him, his chin settles atop your head. “Likin what you see?” he asks slyly, staring at the reflected image that will be on every magazine and newspaper tomorrow, the King of Rock n Roll and his perfect little darling who thinks she’s a woman now that she took cock once.

He runs his hands along your body, broad palms gathering then smoothing out puckers and rolls in the fabric of your dress as he follows the curve of you, breast to thigh and back up, then back down, further this time. He squats a little behind you and his clever fingers hook in your hem line and begin to draw it up, little by little exposing more and more leg in the mirror.

“Oh, no I-“ your hand flys to the apex of your thighs, pressing the fabric against you and keeping a covering there as his gathering has pulled your dress nearly to your little secret place, “what are you doin Elvis?” you ask, a little unsure and bashful of him exposing you in this somewhat public place, even if the crew is nowhere to be seen and the curtain is drawn.

It’s obscene to rumple up the perfect couple, all the starch and pomade that make Elvis Presley and his new bride the envy of the world. And it’s worrying. He does not know you omitted underwear today, the feeling of the fabric chafing and holding in the heat of your tender pussy too much to bear while maintaining a proper face on the tarmac.

“Gonna show ya somethin,” he repeats, eyebrow quirked at your “no” and the nervous way you are almost cupping the last few inches of your dress over your private parts.

He keeps ahold of the fabric he’s gathered up so far and takes to running his knuckles up your side soothingly again, till he notices there’s no band or catch on your hips as he glides up.

“You hidin somethin from me, honey?” he asks, already knowing the answer and the reason for your flaming cheeks, “Keepin secrets from your husband already, denyin him his right?” he tuts and your pretty coal rimmed eyes fly open in denial as you shake your head and pull your hand away. “That's more like it.” He nods approvingly, and ever the showman he waits a minute, building the suspense as his hands continue to map out your clothed body as your breathing quickens. In the mirror both your eyes zero in on the barely hidden triangle between your legs. Then with a flourish and flick of his wrist he swoops the hem up and a rush of cold air hits your exposed pussy. You slump into him and await his verdict. “Darlin, what’s this?“ he asks you gravely, his eyes very dark in the mirror and there you are, pristine up top and entirely bare below, it’s -vulgar. Vulgar and salacious with a fully suited man behind you shaking his head in disappointment that you’d be so careless on your first day as Mrs Presley, risking flashing the photographers or the flight crew because you were too delicate to stand a little fabric. He expects more of you, and he knows you know that.

You mix your explanation with your apology, looking like an eager to please little foal on shaky legs, and he accepts it with another tut and a hum as he rolls your dress up methodically until its bulk is beneath your armpits. The shame you feel in being so exposed is your own fault, your own doing, you know that.

If you’d obeyed you would currently have some demure scrap of silk covering you in the full glare of the showbiz mirror. But now you are bare to his blazing eyes. Your handsome new husband inspects you closely in the mirror, his ringed fingers trailing over your hips and over your belly, swooping up your ribs and tickling the underside of your breasts. Back down he goes, hands gliding and palms warm and broad, spanning much of your abdomen in his reach, down and down till he is petting your mound. Your arms dangle listlessly at your sides, entirely unsure what your part in this is, except to submit to whatever he wishes.

“You say your lil pussy is tenda, hmm?” he understands your motive now, and coos solicitously over your discomfort, even as he smirks at the notion you’re sore from that pathetically gentle love making. It snaps something primal deep inside him, or at least, he thinks that’s what made the decision for him, the decision to enlighten you that last night may have been real nice, but it weren’t typical. He can’t have a wimpy wife, he knows you’re made of tougher stuff, just needs to be coaxed out of you. “A little discomfort ain’t no reason for ya to risk showin the world Mrs. Presley’s goods, is it?” he observes and you nod in abashed agreement.

“No it isn’t,” your tone is fervent and you are so eager to make amends, “I’m sorry Elvis, I wasn’t thinking, I’ll do better.”

“I expect you to.” he says, not unkindly but you gulp and nod anyway, unmoored by his effortless authority. “Now, let’s see about this lil owie, hmm? Spread your legs for me, c’mon wider, that’s a good girl.”

You moan as his hand engulfs you’re throbbing heat, cupping the wounded little place and pressing it firm but gently with his palm. He can feel the thud of your heartbeat down there and the sticky proof of your excitement at just being near him. There’s heat pouring out from you too, a lotta heat. Half of it arousal no doubt, but it’s angry down there like a woman gets during her menses. Puffy and sweltering against his palm.

It’s gonna feel indescribably good around his cock.

“Now we’ve opened ya up,” he explains softly in your ear, “she’s gonna get all fussy down there if she’s left empty for too long.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror with a worried look, unconvinced that emptiness is at all the cause of your discomfort. You feel like something got rearranged down there and needs to be left to mend itself in peace. Preferably in a hot bubble bath. The one luxury this floating palace doesn't have.

“You trust me, don’t ya?” he asks your fretful expression proddingly, “Don’t want ya to close back up all th’way. Go too long and then we’d be starting from scratch each time, you understand baby?”

That does make sense. You swallow your fear and shake your head agreeably. Why shouldn’t you?

He was so tender last night, so romantic and gentle and chivalrous. He had kissed away all your fear and worry into the fluffy bed, sending you careening into bliss and flinging you up to the stars before gently pressing in when you least expected it. It had hurt then, sure, a little pinch and an uncomfortably full feeling he helped soothe by tilting your hips with a courteous pillow beneath them.

Making love had been nice, unexpectedly nice.

And better yet had been the sight of your gorgeous groom, shaking in effort to hold back his vigor as he worked himself in and out above you, gentle and kind, slowly losing a grip on his decorum and letting out sounds of pleasure and praise. There had almost been a whine on his lips as he stalled suddenly and clung to your shoulders and spilled inside you, cementing your union. It had made you feel gloriously happy, and a little smug to see him come undone from the feeling of being inside you.

He earned your trust.

“I understand.” you assure him, the little kisses he is pressing to your neck making you brave. You’d like to see him come undone again. If that means he has to go inside you again then you’ll accept that. Maybe he was right last night, maybe it’ll be even better today.

“That’s my good baby.” he praises you, pleased and handsome over your shoulder, “Gonna turn you into the best little wife the world has ever seen.” he starts to drag his fingers through your bruised petals and you make a ugly little grimace at the soreness before seeing how unpretty it looks in the mirror, consciously changing your expression to demure acceptance. The shiny pink of your lipstick highlights the baby doll serenity of your gentle smile.

“Take me to bed, please, Elvis.” you try to play along with him, desperate to show him your excitement and desire to please.

“Aww now, we’re not goin’ to bed this time, darlin, we’re gonna have a lil lesson so you ain’t in the dark bout marital duties and all that.”

You stiffen in his arms, confused and wary. He keeps nuzzling at your cheek and neck. You had anticipated that there might be adventurous trysts once married, sure. He had proven himself fond of messing with you outside the bedroom during your courtship, fingers playing with you under tables and in hotel elevators. You had prepared for him gently making love to you on a picnic blanket under a Hawaiian moon. Maybe in the tub, or heavens -perhaps the kitchen if he was ravenous. But you’re concerned now that you haven’t grasped his entitlement fully, you’re still trying to understand what he means by “lesson” and why he led you to this vanity. You have a shaky feeling that your embarrassment at being flashed in front of the mirror is about to pale in comparison to what he has planned.

His hand goes from petting your sticky folds to rubbing and swirling, calloused fingertips worrying your bud till you’re nearly keening in enjoyment. He hasn’t looked you in the eyes in a minutes. You keep watching his face as his expression goes from intent to hungry, watching himself fiddling down there with your pink petals as he gets you primed. Primed for the two insistent fingers that plunge into you with no warning. It’s easier this time, having had a coke bottle up there, even just once, did the trick, his fingers meeting far less resistance than last night. He’s made his mark, claimed ya and stretched ya. Never the same again.

His movements burn for you, tugging and persistent as they are and you wince, can’t help it with the way his elegant digits are caressing your sore walls at a foreignly fast pace. You hope that maybe not looking at the rough act will ease your discomfort, like looking away from the needle poke when giving blood helps you keep from getting queasy. The sounds though, wet and squelching, are unmistakable despite the hum of the jet's engines. You watch his face, hoping he’ll look up and meet your eyes, but he’s transfixed by the sight in the mirror of his fingers disappearing into you.

“Gimme your hands, baby.” his sudden instruction startles you as you had flown far away in your mind, trying to reconcile the conflicting amounts of embarrassment and arousal you feel under his heated scrutiny. Who knew married life would cause such a upheaval inside?

“Yes sir.” you present them palms up, and he jerks his chin,

“Now baby, listen, you’re gonna replace my hands while I get myself ready, alright, gonna keep my progress for us. C’mon, hand on each side, pull your lips apart, gonna spread your snatch nice n wide so you can really see the mechanics of the thang. The act.”

The act? What act - you figured if this was going to happen to you at the vanity he would spin you around and set you on the counter, take you kindly as you sat. He had licked you in a movie set bathroom like that one time. Your brain scrambles in confusion and panic, supplying the only familiar acts and positions you’ve tried so far. A man can’t take a woman standing, he can’t, it wouldn’t fit, or at least, it wouldn’t be nice, surely and he wouldn’t be anything but nice-

“Now,” he’s speaking up again, “squeeze your arms a lil, gotta keep your dress nice and clear of the exhibit, ok?” he snickers at the way your dress is bunched beneath your underarms.

You make a respectful noise of acknowledgment, too nervous to say more. Your folds are puffy and slippery beneath your numb fingers as you pull your labia apart like he instructed. This feels new, keeping clothes on while being intimate. It feels…irreverent and dirty somehow. Just like standing here, your whole reflection lit brilliantly and his eyes still glued to that place between your legs.

You watch him pull away from behind you and start to methodically undo the buttons of his double breasted suit jacket, sliding it off his lean arms and folding it carefully over a towel rack, “Ya see, darlin,” he explains, as he undoes his cuff buttons and starts to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, “it's only proper you know what it looks like when we're joined together. I’ve got no desire to keep ya in the dark bout somethin God says is a good thing. This isn't the olden days, I don't mind having an enlightened sorta gal. So long as you don’t turn into the bra-burning sort of enlightened.”

He meets your eyes then as he gives you a look from under his lashes, admonishing you to stay away from such nonsensical, feministic, man-hating company as his deft fingers pop open the button of his slacks and he pulls himself out, weeping, thick and ready. You had no idea he was already so fully excited, your legs begin to tremble anew. He looks larger like this, somehow, all poshly dressed and admirably sauve in the mirror as his cock juts out of his tailored slacks, a single indecorous vulgarity marring his pristine Ken Doll image.

You flush red hot at the sight of him

lazily pumping himself as he saunters back to you, his hand yanking and pulling to chub himself up and then a thumb swirling around the uncut tip. He’s leaking and messy already, a profusion of precum wetting his hand and you give a silent prayer of thanks that at least he will add to the slick, hopefully ease the slide.

He doesn’t waste time with romance, he takes his place again behind you and this time you feel him sliding between your cheeks and then your legs, the feel of his open fly and belt against your bare butt. Due to your obediently spread lips, it’s perfectly visible when he slides through your folds and pokes out the other side, a pink, blunt, oozing cockhead playing peek-a-boo in your garden. He bumps your clit again and again with it until you are huffily shivering in his arms.

“Elvis are you really gonna-“ you can’t bear the suspense of it, you have to ask him his intentions, if he really means to make love to you standing up.

“-really gonna fuck my new wife in front of this state of the art mirror?” he laughs, thinking he knows what your quibble is, “Goddamn right I am, be a crime to not avail ourselves of the experience.”

He punctuates his enunciated vocabulary with rough thrusts against your bud that have you shaking and coming…just a little. Just enough for him to be sure you’re ready to take him.

“Fuck me?” you repeat in a panicked whisper, “B-b-but I’m your wife, Elvis!” you object, wounded.

He gets confused, stalling with his hand as he lines himself up with your freshly excavated entrance, “Whadda ya mean, honey?” he asks kindly, reaching around to tilt your chin towards him, but you sense that there’s an impatient edge to it.

You tearfully explain to him how your mother and other women have told you very explicitly you that men don’t fuck their wives. They make love to them. You are very adamant regarding it, and he ought to know better.

“Why baby, that’s the single greatest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” he declares in fond amusement, smooching your tear stained cheek and resuming his rutting through your folds, “You gonna trust some ole ninnies over your husband? Baby, I gave ya a real nice wedding night cause I love ya and you’re my special girl and I thought it your due, but I ain’t gonna be saddled with a wife who can’t meet my needs when I need a quick fuck, ya hear me? Case in point is now, my dick’s about to fall off from all this chit chat.”

You suppose there’s a great deal about marriage that is far more complicated than movies and books and Sunday potlucks led you to believe. It’s hard balancing how to please your husband as you ought with retaining some dignity that will make him respect you. You can’t imagine Elvis ever not respecting you, it’s too ingrained in him and what he wants isn’t to humiliate you, it’s what he needs to be satisfied. And you so badly want to keep him satisfied, you know deep down you’d do unspeakable things to keep his attention on you, perhaps that is where your shame comes from. It’s less about his expectations and more about the fact you’d throw away all your mother’s teachings before causing him to go elsewhere for comfort and acceptance.

You turn your head to him and pucker your lips for a kiss of acquiesce, which he obliges. His hand is still firm on your jaw as he deepens it, and it’s heady and passionate and loving and -he’s breaching you suddenly. A squat and flex and tilt of his hips and then he’s snagged your hole and he is pressing up and up and up and you whine into his mouth as his foreskin rolls back in your canal, an extra friction against your raw walls.

“Elvis!” you beg, breath caught in your throat at the burning sting of him as your hand flies up to clutch at his arm, secure around your hips, “its it’s-” you flounder with a word to adequately describe the delicious pain of it as he goes deeper.

He mouths messy and moaning at your neck and you can feel his belly shaking against your lower back, his cock twitching at the feeling of getting dipped in your silky channel. It makes you cringe in discomfort.

“You’re so goddamn perfect and warm as anythin,” he praises in a slur of kisses and moans as he flexes up and up.

The farther in he goes the more it loses any snuggly quality and instead feels rather like getting slowly impaled. You shift your stance in front of the mirror, legs spreading of their own accord and eyes squeezed shut in concentration at just trying to breathe. It goes on forever and you start to try to go up on your tip toes, to get away from it, from him, to lessen the fullness and the deepness of his assault somehow. He persists. You try to scramble up him, leveraging your weight on his forearm till your little feet are nearly off the jet floor.

His answering chuckle vibrates your back, “Looks like you’re tryin to learn how to levitate, honey.”

You scramble harder in a vain attempt to get taller, to elongate your poor vagina somehow, to keep him shallow

“T-that’s all I can take, Elvis” you try to tell him when he’s only over half in.

It's an honest declaration, to your hyperventilating self he feels impossibly big and certainly every bit as deep as it felt last night when he took you discreetly beneath the sheets in the good ole fashioned missionary position.

Your eyes widen as he doesn’t stop, just goes on and on and on, as your breaths get more panicked, shallower with each inhale, on the verge of a panic attack until he stalls and starts to pet your belly and kiss your cheek in an effort to bring you back down. “Breathe babydoll, breathe for me. Calm down, satnin, you took this all last night. you can do it again, I knows ya can.”

You've long ago started to whimper when he didn’t listen, half in pain and half in fear that he isn’t stopping, that he isn’t being as nice as he was last night. Why isn’t he stopping? oh why, why, “I can’t, I think I’m not made for it.” you wail as you writhe helpless in his arms, a pounding ache between your legs and a strange flutter in your chest.

“No, no, don’t say that baby, please don’t say that, you’re perfect baby, just perfect.” he pleads a little frantic, rubbing his lips along your cheekbone to collect your tears, “Only need a lil breakin in is all, this won’t always be so rough. I’ll fix ya honey, I’ll make it better. Don’t you go objectin’ to the heavenly proportions God gave ya, or what he gave me neither. We were made for each other.”

Hearing the tender worry in his voice soothes you, even more than his comforting touches, knowing he isn’t indifferent to your struggle, he just wants what’s best for you as any good teacher would. You take a breath, a large breath and it feels like it made him sink deeper somehow. You bite back a sob.

“You can do it.” he says in your ear, his voice shaky from how badly he needs to be moving inside you, “Please baby, let me in, I’m hurtin’ real bad, if you could just see lil elvis you’d feel so bad for the poor guy. Let him in, you can take it, let him in, let him in his lil house. That’s it, that’s it just a little bit more.”

The man lied. There was nothing “little” about the more he gives you when he bucks up that last bit and buries himself fully inside, balls snug against your butt.

“Oh, i’hurts.” you moan, tears leaking through your clenched eyes, smearing your immaculate cat eye. “hurts -I-I can’t, Elvis.”

“You can.” he declares firmly, trying so hard to stay in control, to gather the last shreds of his gentlemanliness, “More like -you *are* doing it. Look, come on. Baby! I said look! Open those eyes and watch how well you’ve taken me.”

You pry your clumping lashes apart and slowly your eyes drag from the reflection of your faces pressed together, down to your breasts where his hand is crushing a velvet bow in his grip, down your belly to to his forearm barred around your hips. Down to that place where you join.

“Where’d lil Elvis go, hmm?” He teases like you’re playing hide and seek, and you let out a watery laugh, rolling your eyes at his babying tone, “Where'd he go, darlin? Oh, there he is,” he pulls out a tiny bit so the pink veiny length of him peaks out from between your lips, “there he is -wait where’d he go?”

“Elvis. Stop. Stop, that’s so dumb.” you beg through your sniffling giggles, the fiery stretch of him temporarily forgotten.

He laughs at your embarrassment and pulls out further this time, then snaps his hips back up to the hilt of him, drawing a pained cry from you “Who’s my bestest girl, hmm? who’s that? Shhh, shhh, Das you ain’t it? Look at’chue, doin so well. I need ya to stand straight baby, let those heels touch down. I mean it, plant your feet, don’t cry about it, no reason to cry, you gotta relax.”

You’ve heard him use the same tone of voice when helping Red’s puppy get a burr out of its paw. Pitifully you obey him, planting your feet and it feels like you’re riding a telephone pole, the way he’s stiff and unyielding, deep inside you, plumbing the depths of your belly.

“That’s more like it.” he hums in throaty appreciation of the snug fit of you, “Alright now, ‘member the job I gave ya?” he reminds gently as he starts to thrust slow and deep, watching as your face crumples in grief, “Hold yourself open baby, it’s very important you watch this, I need ya to understand you’re perfect for this, gotta let go of ma arm, c’mon now.” he pries your grip from his forearm and brings your hand back down to your puffy heat, “Spread yo’self.” his accent deepens as your body struggles to take him, clenching around him in an effort to expel him, and only serving to make him moan in bliss. “Look a’that.” he marvels, sounding utterly worshipful of the way the glistening pink length of him slowly comes into view, then slowly disappears -absorbed inside you, your painfully stretched little hole fluttering hopelessly at each dragging inch of him.

“It still really hurts.” you observe childishly through gritted teeth, your pained body fighting the fuzzy headed arousal you feel while watching the obscene display of him sliding in and out of you for a few languid grinds.

“That’s cause you’re so tense, loosen up baby, -actually, here.” he shuffles you forward and you make a reckless sound of disgruntlement at the feel of him shifting inside you with each baby step, “Here, knee up here.” he hooks his hand beneath your knee and props it up on the counter, somehow making this worse and better all at once with the new angle.

“Ow, oh god, you said it would get better.” you accuse, biting your lip in savage self reprimand after it. Foolish girl, to risk making him unhappy and frustrated, stoking his wandering eye.

“It will, dammit, it will. I'm gonna need you to hang in there and play with your lil button till it does, alright? Bout to burst back here with all this startin and stoppin.”

“Ok.” you whisper, feeling a little more steady with the firm counter beneath your knee, opened up a little for the intrusion of him.

He pats your hips and presses an appreciative kiss behind your ear, nearly drunk off your sweet little struggle to be good for him. It makes his heart soar and fills him with wild wants, makes him reckless, and a little mean somehow, like crushing rose petals to gain the scent.

“Now, I know I made love to ya last night, darlin,” he pets the bulge of his cock in your belly and you shudder in anticipation, “cause that’s what weddin nights are for, but now you’re a wife proper you gotta learn how to take cock without so much whinin and clingin, alright? Made ya a woman, didn’t I? so do me proud, act it.”

With this emboldening commission he presses one more kiss to your neck before pulling out before driving in, hard. And then he does it again, and again and again at a pace you’ve seen him maintain on stage but never, never imagined him using with you, against you, it feels like.

You shriek and your knee slides further apart with the violent rocking, trying with terrible desperation to find solace and feminine satisfaction in the guttural groans and huffed out praises your husband vents as he takes what he needs, flaming eyes glued to the mirror and the place where he plunders you.

You are really trying, it just hurts so damn much.

You know you’re lucky, you cling to that even as he spears your cervix again and again with gusto that suggests your panicked clenching is the best damn thing he’s ever felt in his life. You’ve heard from other women, older women trying to counsel you, prepare you for what lay ahead, that some husbands didn’t even bother trying to make sure their wives were slick enough. That the dry drag and burn of a man can make the stretch truly unbearable. It keeps you grateful that the lewd sounds now causing you to blush are testament to the flood of slick down there. It keeps you grateful meek even as you wail and smear your makeup with your gasped out shock.

He should slow down, he should moderate his thrusts, cherish his wife. He can see you’re struggling and panting and crying and somehow it’s all just a drug to him, the gorgeous little dolly he crafted so perfectly this morning looking utterly overwhelmed and defiled by his cock. It’s enough to make a man lose his bearings and forget his mama’s teachings on how to treat a lady.

The beast won’t be tamed. And so Elvis Presley begins to babble a stream of apologies as he exerts all the energy of his able body in fucking his young wife, like the deeper and harder he goes the more likely his lil swimmers will have the chance of making themselves a nice comfy home in your sweet womb:

“oh goddamn baby I’d stop if I could, but yer squeezing me like a vice and I just…I just can’t stop baby, be good, be good, don’t cry on me, be good for your husband, baby. You’ll get used to it, we’ll train your pussy baby, just gotta get through these early stages. Early stages and it’s, it’s normal, just a lil skittish is all, ain’t no way god made me want you this bad just for you to be cold. Ain’t no way, I can feel it when you’re dancin to my music, you want it deep, you crave it deep, you were born hungry. Oh goddamn, yes, yes, fuck yes, baby, I’m sorry I’m sorry, yes, keep squeezing me like that …….”

It is not talent on your part, this clenching that has him snarling in rapture with his eyes rolling back in his skull, it’s pure creature instinct, whether trying to expel him, bring him deeper or milk him fast so this agony will end, you don’t know. All you know is that his force is terrifying and you’ve never seen something quite as erotic as the pristinely polished beauty of his face morphing into ravenous determination.

Your panic flares one last time, unwilling to allow yourself to coast into enjoyment of this filthy usage without a fight. “Please, Elvis please -enough!” you gasp, even as something seems to have shifted inside you, a tilt or a nudge, whatever it is, it’s a spark of something dangerous.

“Listen here now,” he pants in frustration, one of his hands leaving your hip to fly down to your clit and rub it viciously, “i don’t have a particular hankerin to pin you down over the tabletop, face down ass up, and make this marriage work but I will if I have to. So be a good girl n’ quit all your whinin, show me some of that grit you show when I’m teachin ya on the mats. Don’t wanna make me do nothin rash, but I ain’t gon’ have my honeymoon ruined cause my wife is insistent on bein’ an obstinate lil’ brat!” his voice his shaking with effort, “now, open ya self up!”

It spooks you, this inexorable side of him, white hot lightening ripping through your nerves. Suddenly you’re alite. Scientists might be quick to give credit to the clever little rhythm his thumb strummed over your clit but till the day you die you will swear it was instinctive obedience that had you spasming and then gushing, suddenly relaxing and drawing him in, pliant and eager. Subdued at last.

“Aww baby, oh baby that’s it, oh thank fuck,” he gasps in relief as he feels the change, “I’ve gotchu, you know I gotchu always, gonna help ya get over that damn hill, gonna drop ya off that cliff gentle like.”

His movements are not gentle, if anything they speed up, but his hands cradle you, his mouth caresses you and he places his own knee beside your own, glued together everywhere except for the snap of his pelvis. There is a razor's edge here, in the sensations his body is drawing from yours, and it is an edge upon which you wobble, tipping now towards pleasure, then pain, then back again to pleasure. It confuses and overwhelms you, makes you moan and keen and beg like an animal in heat, the jet crew and all your ladylike deportment forgotten.

“Oh dear god Elvis, I- oh, oh, please don’t stop!” you’re suddenly shouting in a shocked beg, something irreversible building and this isn’t your standard *nice job buddy that was swell* orgasm approaching, it’s one of the *well done sir, I think I just died there for a minute* variety. It’s shaking, and thrumming and burning up your entire body, suddenly making lyrics to his well worn songs take on an entirely new meaning.

“Lordy mama, tryin to let the whole plane know I’ve broken ya in at last?” he teases, finding it heavenly the way you move with him now in an easy give and take, the smacking of your bum against him and the happy slack of your mouth driving him to madness.

Gone is the suave man of myth and envy, here is an animal instead, mounting and mauling and claiming you with ferocious devotion and you take it like a jerking rag doll, whining in need where you were once whimpering. He’s proud of you. If he had breath to laugh he would at the way you suddenly look dazedly disbelieving in the mirror right before your body seizes up and pleasure annihilates all your senses.

Your legs give out and you slump, having only the vaguest awareness of the fact he’s beginning to grunt and cry out himself, using you like a writhing receptacle, coming unglued behind you as you begin to melt on him like butter. There ain’t much thought or chivalry to the way he grabs at you, a hand beneath each knee and folds you in half, split open in front of the mirror as he ruts every last drop of satisfaction into you. He hears himself hollering as if through a tunnel, something that the fight crew, if asked, would paraphrase as being “oh goddamn, you are more perfect than anything.”

You are numb and pounding down there, the last frantic usage of your pussy an ordeal you endure with cock dumb acceptance. The way his face draws up and crumples shortly after, and then slacks in bliss -it is the single most violently arousing thing you’ve ever witnessed. Feeble as your energy is, you feel a surge of feminine pride at the way he mumbles and moans and finally shakes to a stop.

“That’s it, oh you’re so beautiful.” you moan, watching as his hair falls into his bleary, slow blinking eyes as he comes back to the surface, “And you’re mine.” you sigh, content.

“Mhmm, yours.” he coos, jostling you a little on his cock and he snuggles closer somehow, you think you feel his seed start to dribble out despite the sizable stopper inside you, “Well, bless your heart darling, I’ve got ya folded like a camp chair. Ha!” he gently folds your legs back down, pulling out of you with painstaking gentleness on the way down, “That weren’t very gentlemanly of me, was it?” he teases.

You sway dangerously once placed on your own two feet and you don’t even have the chance to fall, he never lets go before he realizes what’s needed. He picks you up and sets you on the counter, you pool back against the mirror, boneless and debauched, legs stuck bow legged from such a long ride and a vividly puffy pussy leaking his seed onto the counter. He tucks himself back in with still shaking hands. He won’t be fully back down to earth till Honolulu’s runway, he thinks. Just in time to carry you off the plane. And begin it all over again.

Married life, he could get used to this.

“It was perfect, you’re perfect.” you slur earnestly as he returns to you and unzips your dress, hauling it over your teased you hair, baring you fully as you sit on the counter, kicking feet thumping against the cabinets in your patten leather heels

“Nah…perfect -that would be you, Mrs Presley.” he kisses you deeply, before taking you in his arms bridal style and carries you into the bedroom, conscious but uncaring that you’re leaking all over his pristine shirt sleeve.

This next part oughta involve washcloths or wet wipes. But that would require leaving your sweet arms and facing a jet crew that just heard him railing his tender young bride.

Yeah, he’ll just use his mouth.

Hope y’all enjoyed. This is a repost from my (currently censored) main blog @precious-little-scoundrel and in turn it’s a repost from the original written over a year ago on my deleted OG Elvis blog@aconflagrationofmyown I want to start collecting my fics here in case anything happens with my main. Xoxo

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memphisflash · 26 days

Text

𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: It's been a year since you've seen Elvis - he hasn't called or reached out to you once, yet you still can't forget about him. Summer rolls around and you find yourself back in Vegas, picking right up where you left things with the singer that brings the heat to the desert every year, and you can't help but fall harder and deeper...

Word count: 6,7K

Warnings: basically a smut fest. reader losing her virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), kissing after oral, somewhat uncomfortable first time for reader (that shit hurts, hello???), they fuck multiple times- woops.

A/N: I tried to keep it short and sweet, but anyone who knows me that's a damn joke, because I always get carried away HA. I kinda hate the ending but oh well, I had to stop somewhere. Hope y'all like it!

← part one | masterlist →

A whole year had passed since that night you shared such an intimate moment with Elvis.

He had asked for your number before the two of you said goodbye but you didn’t expect to hear from him. You didn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

You didn’t want to become just another foolish girl that was completely head over heels for the singer, but you couldn’t help yourself, no matter how hard you tried.

He’d been on your mind every single day for that whole year.

You listened to his records, read everything the magazines printed about him and would even watch some of his movies to hear his voice. Your boss at the local art gallery you worked at in Tucson, your hometown, even caught you daydreaming a couple of times and snapped you out of it which was highly embarrassing.

The whole thing was embarrassing, to be quite honest.

You were in love with a man who was fawned over by thousands of girls across the globe and he most likely didn’t even remember you. After all, you hadn’t been the first girl he brought up to his suite in Vegas.

You hid those feelings well for your parents though, who thought you were just infatuated by the superstar and dealt with the amount of times you played his music through the house. Your father secretly liked it – you’d heard him sing along plenty of times when he thought no one could hear him.

But your best friend Emma knew better. She was the only one who you had told what happened between you and Elvis and like the supportive, and sometimes tad overly excited, best friend she was, she made it her own personal mission to save up for another trip to Vegas the coming summer.

You picked up a few extra shifts at your job and even babysat the children in the neighborhood and before you realised it, summer was there and you and Emma made the six hour drive to sin city.

Las Vegas was as exciting as ever. With Elvis’ residency being promoted like a summer festival, Elvis fans were everywhere – walking the strip to spot him or any of his entourage members, taking up hotel rooms in the numerous accomodations in town and shopping, dining out or seeing afternoon shows by other artists to kill time.

Vegas was thriving off of the tourists and if you could, you would want to stay here for the rest of your life. Despite your innocent nature, the sinful aspect of it all drew you in.

“What if he does recognize you…” Emma retorts to your worries as you lay side by side on a tanning bed by the pool of the International hotel. You two had booked so many months in advance that you were assured a nice room in the crowded hotel. “and asks you up to the room again. This is Vegas, baby, anything can happen!”

Emma grins widely as she looks at you over the rim of her sunglasses, wiggles her eyebrows and then laughs as she pushes them back up the bridge of her nose, reaching for her margarita. You laugh with her and sigh deeply as you watch some people in the pool splash around, chattering and hollering adding a nice atmosphere to the pool area. “Oh please, Em, I bet he won’t even recognize me. He’s been to other places for the past year and God knows what kind of girls he met.”

“You’re hotter,” Emma says matter-of-factly as she puts her drink down and lays back on the sunbed, soaking up the rays of the harsh Vegas sun.

“You haven’t even seen the other girls,” you snort softly, looking at her even though her eyes were closed behind her glasses.

“I don’t need to. I’m your best friend and I’m obligated to tell you, you’re hotter. And even if I wasn’t, I would still tell you the same thing.”

You couldn’t contain the smile on your face and let it spread across your features, playfully slapping Emma’s arm. She always knew just what to say.

Ofcourse you didn’t think you were ugly, but you would always compare yourself to other girls that seemed just a little more prettier. A little skinnier, their skin a little more flawless, their clothes a little more expensive.

Emma often talked you out of it though, because she was right when she’d tell you that wasn’t the way to live your life.

You did have to admit that your confidence had grown in the past year, even if it was just a smidge. Your boss gave you more responsibilities at work which had you come into contact with customers face to face more often, which included handsome business men and rough around the edges cowboys who came in to buy an art work.

They’d flirt with you more often than not and their blatant but sweet compliments even helped you with your blushing. In a way, you’d grown used to the men in Tucson, so hopefully you’d be the same around that one man from Memphis.

If you’d even meet him again.

“Okay, let’s say he knows who I am and he invites me up to his suite again,” you said, sounding a little more light hearted. “I think I wanna have sex with him.”

“You already did, Miss Foreplay.”

“That wasn’t.. sex!” you whisper loud enough for Emma to hear above her own laughter, gasping as you chuckled. You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the sunbed, leaning in closer to your friend so nobody else was able to hear you. “I’m serious, Em. I want to.. I want him to.. you know.”

Emma pushed her sunglasses into her hair, turning her head to look at you. She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. “You can say it, Y/N, it ain’t some kinda disease. You want him to pop your cherry,”

The way the word ‘cherry’ rolled off her tongue so sensually it had your cheeks heating up a little, but you quickly forced the heat back down, slapping your friend’s arm once more.

This time with a little more force, which made her pout and rub her arm.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Fine. You want him to fuck you then.”

“Emma!”

The girl next to you laughed loudly and quickly avoided you before you could assault her poor arm again. You shook your head but laughed along with her – she was impossible at times, but you loved her like a sister.

You and Emma had tickets to several shows Elvis did at the hotel. You were staying for two whole weeks and would attend a few shows during the week, and every show during the weekend.

While getting ready for the dinner show that started at 7, the phone in your hotel room rang. The sound startled you a little, hoping it wasn’t the front desk with a noise complaint because you and Emma had been playing music while getting ready – and Emma was singing along in the shower, sounding like a dying cat.

You put your curling iron down after switching it off and ran into the room from the bathroom, picking up the phone. It was the desk clerk, telling you you had an incoming call from an individual named Jon Burrows.

You didn’t know anyone by that name, but thinking it could’ve been work related, you accepted the call.

But as soon as you heard that deep voice and that Southern drawl, you realised this wasn’t Jon Burrows.

“Hi Cherry,”

Your heartbeat started picking up, resembling something of a group of wild horses gallopping.

“Elvis?” You questioned, sounding breathless and in somewhat of disbelief.

He didn’t confirm, but you knew it was him. Especially when you heard his deep, rich sounding laugh which felt like a comfortable blanket being wrapped around you.

“Now why didn’t ya tell me you’re in Vegas, honey? I called your house and your Daddy told me you were already here, comin’ to see me..”

You looked at Emma as she wandered out of the bathroom, waving your hand like a maniac to the radio that was playing. She frowned but took the hint and switched it off, walking closer to you to silently ask who you were talking to.

“Well, I’m sorry, Elvis,” Emma immediately widened her eyes and sat down next to you, pressing her ear close to the phone. “I didn’t.. I didn’t know how to reach you..”

You mentally cursed yourself for such a lame answer, but it was the truth. You didn’t have his number, and in that whole year, he never called you.

At least, not to your knowledge.

“You comin’ to see the show? How long are ya staying?”

“Me and my friend will be here for two weeks, and yes, ofcourse we’re coming to the show. We wouldn’t want to miss it.” You made sure your voice sounded extra sweet and Emma nearly toppled over when Elvis said, “That’s my girl.”

“Don’t make any plans for after the late show tonight, honey. I want you and your friend to come to a little party, okay?”

Emma looks at you and immediately nodded yes. You agreed and after talking to Elvis for a few more minutes, he hung up to get ready for the show. You put the phone down and looked at Emma, who was staring at you with wide eyes before you two squealed like two teenagers.

“Oooh, that man wants you, believe me,” Emma smirks as she gets up and turns the radio on again, dancing happily through the room while getting ready.

As always, Elvis was amazing on stage – his moves making you feel things and his vocals were superb. He recognized you in the crowd and during the moment where he wandered through the crowd and kissed girls, he made sure to press an open mouthed kiss onto your mouth, his tongue playfully flicking against your lips.

You were already on cloud nine, fantasizing about what would happen during the rest of the night when you’d have him alone. You were praying that that party wouldn’t last very long.

It turned out the party was held in the dressing room and you nearly fainted at the sight of Cary Grant greeting Elvis when you stood next to him. They talked for a short while and you couldn’t even keep up with the conversation, so many things around you were happening.

Emma was standing across the room, talking to Charlie Hodge and by the way she was squeezing his arm and throwing her head back as she laughed, you could see they were hitting it off.

Good for her – Emma had horrible taste in men, often falling for the bad boys, but Charlie Hodge seemed like a nice man. And a funny one, because you could hear your best friend’s flirtatious laughter all across the dressing room.

Elvis and you didn’t talk much one on one, as there was always someone who came up to strike a conversation with him. But he kept his arm around your waist, because he liked knowing that you were still there, close to him.

To him, it wasn’t strange at all. He acted like you’d always been there, like you belonged to him and only him.

It sent your mind spinning, or maybe that was because of the two Cosmo’s you’d already had.

The party was nice – everyone was having fun, talking to each other, enjoying each other’s company and sipping drinks. But it was like Elvis could read your mind when he looked at you and leaned in closer.

“Let’s get outta here. I want to be alone with my sweet little cherry,”

The way he whispered in your ear nearly had your knees buckling, but instead you flashed him a smile and quickly nodded. Elvis slipped his hand into yours and as he signed to Red and Sonny he wanted to leave, the four of you moving out of the room. You exchanged one more look with Emma, who grinned widely at you and blew you a kiss, mouthing a “have fun!” to you before she disappeared out of your sight.

After walking through a few long hallways and a short ride on the service elevator, you arrived at the top floor of the International and you disappeared into the suite with Elvis.

“You know, I really missed ya, honey,” Elvis smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close against his chest, making you stand on your tiptoes a little due to the height difference.

Again, you wanted to ask him why he hadn’t called if he missed you so much but you knew better than to ruin the moment.

You hugged him back, telling him you missed him too and in this moment, you felt like he truly cared about you.

Like you weren’t just a fan, or just another girl that would tend to his needs for the evening.

“Why don’t you go take a shower an’ we can relax, hmm?”

It could sound so innocent, but with what you had planned for tonight, you knew it was the beginning of something very sinful.

Elvis led you to the bathroom and handed you one of his silk pyjama button ups, this time in a shade of crimson red. Once again, he didn’t give you the bottom half of the set but you didn’t mind it, nor protest against it. As he left you alone to take a shower in the other bathroom in the suite, you locked the door behind you and turned on the shower. You washed your body, making sure to leave your hair and make-up untouched.

Thank God for Emma who hounded your ass for making sure you were trimmed nicely – your bikini line, legs and pits waxed, only a little bit of pubic hair left on your vulva.

You turned the shower off after a little bit and dried yourself off, making sure to spray some perfume in your neck that you carried in your purse and sneaked into the bathroom. You put on the button up, leaving your panties on top of your folded clothes on the sink. You quickly brushed your teeth with the spare toothbrush in the bathroom and took a deep breath before you walked back into the bedroom, smiling shyly at Elvis who was already sitting in his bed against the headboard.

His hair looked like he’d just dry-blowed it, soft and fluffy. He was wearing his own set of pyjamas in black and the tan skin that was visible due to half of his top being left unbottoned made arousal slowly creep its way to the surface.

Talking turned to cuddling, cuddling turned to kissing, and kissing turned to wandering hands creeping up your top.

You were nervous, God how nervous you were, but this time you didn’t stop him when he cupped your breasts.

A soft gasp left you when he caressed his thumbs across your perked nipples. He looked at your face to see if he was taking things too far, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks and the way you were looking at him with pleading eyes, he figured he could go on.

As long as you did not tell him to stop, he wasn’t going to.

Slowly he got on top of you, wiggling himself in between your legs which you eagerly opened and wrapped around his waist this time. He moved his hands out from underneath your top, fingertips working quick as he flicked the buttons open one by one.

“Cherry,” he spoke softly, his eyes finding yours. “Have you been touched in the past year?”

The question rolled off his tongue so casually as if you were just making conversation, but it caused goosebumps to tingle along your skin. You looked at him and shook your head slowly, unable to control the heat that was crawling up your neck, reddening your skin.

“N-No..” you whispered, feeling exposed as the fabric of your top fell open, your breasts on full display for him. “Only by myself,”

You didn’t know where you’d got the courage from to say such a thing, but it slipped out before you could stop it. Elvis smirked, his hands back to cupping your breasts, squeezing them a little firmer.

“Is that right?” he hummed lowly, keeping his eyes on your face as he leaned in closer to your chest, his soft lips connecting with the supple flesh of your right breast. “Did ya think ‘bout me when touchin’ yourself?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, his tongue poked out to swirl it around your nipple. A gasp and then a moan slipped past your lips and you gripped onto his shoulders, arching your back a little.

“Yes!” you moaned out, perhaps a little more desperate than you intended to. “Y-Yes.. Always.. thinking about.. you..”

Your words came out breathless as he sucked onto your nipple softly and he grinded against you a little. You could feel the outline of his cock pressing against your folds and you were pretty sure you were staining his silk bottoms with your arousal.

Neither he or you cared and you grinded back against him, trying to rub your clit against his length.

Elvis could see the difference between last year and now. With those flushed cheeks, he knew you were still the same girl but there was a flair of eagerness lingering about you now.

You wanted him and he sure as hell was going to enjoy taking you, stripping away your innocence completely.

Just as you were about to reach out to unbutton his shirt completely, he was already moving lower onto the bed. His lips dragged over the curve of your breasts and along your stomach, his hands sliding up the back of your thighs to spread your legs and give him the view he’s been so eager to see all night.

Your perfect exposed pussy… right there in front of his nose. So beautiful, so pink, so untouched.

He looked up at you through his dark lashes as he kissed your inner thighs, grinning against your skin when he felt your legs trembling with anticipation. He could practically smell your arousal and it had him groaning softly as he rubbed himself against the mattress slowly.

You wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on the most intimate part of his body but he decided to take things slow. He knew you were eager but he wanted you to experience it all, and he wanted to be the one who could make you feel this good.

His fingertips caressed through your folds, spreading your slick all over your lips before he pressed his thumb against your clit, adding a little pressure. You were looking down at him the whole time, not wanting to miss a second of this sight, and he loved hearing you moan softly the way you did.

By the end of the evening, he intended to have you screaming for him.

“My Cherry’s got such a pretty pussy,” he whispered as he grinned at you before looking down at your wetness glistening against your skin. He ran his middlefinger down your folds, slowly pushing it inside of your entrance. “All for me to play with,”

You gasped and gripped onto the sheets, your muscles immediately tensing up around his digit. He let out a soft laugh as he pulled his finger back before sinking it into you completely again. “Relax, baby. It’s jus’ a finger,”

Just a finger that already had you moaning louder, like a damn cat in heat. You moved your hands to your face to cover up your mouth and muffle your moans, and Elvis let you – for now. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, moving his finger in and out of you a little faster.

Then he added another finger and you were clenching around him so viciously, he was thinking you were going to push his fingers out of you at one point by just using your muscles.

The thought of feeling that feeling around his cock had him grinding against the bed a little more.

But Elvis wasn’t a quitter and he pushed the two digits deeper inside of you, fingertips curling inside of you and caressing that special spot. Your hands couldn’t contain your moans anymore and they once more found the sheets as you arched your back, spreading your legs wider.

He repeated the action a few more times, fingering you at a steady pace until he couldn’t take the sight of his fingers coming out so wet anymore. It was too tempting.

“Let’s see how sweet you taste, Cherry,” he smirked as he pulled his fingers out and grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing his fingertips into your skin a little to keep you still.

Without warning, he leaned in closer and dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit. You gasped as your hips stuttered and he held onto you firmer, looking up at you as his tongue swirled slowly around your clit, before he gently sucked it in between his lips.

The sight was downright sinful.

But even though you couldn’t get enough of it, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head as his tongue slipped through your folds again.

He put your legs over his shoulders, his hands moving up your sides until they found your breasts again. He fondled them lightly, pinching your nipples in between his fingertips softly as his tongue worked wonders on your eager pussy.

“Mmm, Elvis!” you moaned out freely now, unable to contain yourself. The sounds leaving you, the way you were moaning out his name, made you feel so… slutty.

And yet, you were loving every second of it.

He groaned against your skin, his hands slipping down to your hips as his eyes shot open and stared up at you. He wanted to see your reactions to his actions and make a mental reminder of it – the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip, the way your eyebrows knitted together. And the added roll of your eyes as he sucked on your clit was very much appreciated.

You didn’t know what an orgasm felt like. Sure, you had touched yourself but when that pressure would start building in the pit of your stomach, you stopped.

Because truth be told, you were nervous about it – scared even. And now that Elvis was the one who was causing the muscles in your tummy to tense up like that, you felt as if you were about to crawl out of your own skin.

Tangling your fingers in his now messy hair, you tried to get him to stop, tried to get away from him, but the raven haired devil wouldn’t let you.

He’s been between enough girls’ legs to know that you were close to falling apart. Could feel it by the way your thighs were trembling on his shoulders, hear it in the way your moans turned a little more high pitched, a slight hint of panic hidden on the back of your tongue.

You could practically feel him smirking against your clit as he slipped in a finger, pumping it in and out of you in a steady pace. There was a slight sting, though it was barely noticeable due to the orgasm that had you on the verge of tears.

You clamped your hand over your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, your other hand still in his hair as he just wouldn’t stop while you were falling over the edge. If it wasn’t for Elvis holding onto your hips to keep you down, you were sure your hips would’ve lifted off of the bed with the way they were bucking upwards and you were writhing in the sheets.

You could barely recognize your own voice as you moaned out, Elvis’ name falling off your tongue like a mantra.

Elvis slowly loosened his grip on your hips and let you spread your legs, raising his head to look at you with a smug grin spread across his face. You pushed some of his hair out of his face and then let out a breathless laugh, running your hands through your own hair.

Elvis loved the way you were looking at him with those half-lidded eyes that held stars in them, cheeks flushed the way he likes.

“Jus’ like I thought, Cherry,” his whisper is low, his voice a little raspy as he kisses your lower abdomen. “Jus’ downright teeth rottin’ sweet,”

Your cheeks heated up even more as he crawled his way back up, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. It made you moan softly in his mouth, allowing him to take the pyjama shirt you were still wearing completely off.

In a matter of seconds, Elvis’ clothing pieces flung across the room as well, thanks to your greedy hands.

Foreheads pressed together, moans exchanged into each others’ mouths, Elvis thrusted his hips forward slowly as your small hand wrapped around his hard cock. You figured if you would do something wrong, you would know by his reaction, but now he seemed to enjoy it with the way his tongue was dipping into your mouth now and then, eyes closed as he grunted and his jaw clenched.

Elvis had planned to take his time tonight, but he couldn’t take one more second of foreplay. He wanted, needed, to be buried inside of you.

“Can I put it in now, honey?” He whispered as his eyes flutter open, looking at you with a small smirk as he remembered how a year ago you were nearly pleading for him not to put it in.

But tonight he could see how much you wanted it, there was no way in hell you’d put a stop to it now.

At least, he prayed you wouldn’t.

A sense of relief washed over him when you bit your lip and nodded, yet he still wanted to hear you say it. “Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes,” you inhaled a shaky breath, squeezing his cock softly in your hand as you loosely wrapped your legs around his waist. “I want you to be my first.”

You felt vulnerable speaking those words and Elvis smiled, fingertips caressing some hair out of your face and gently tugging it behind your ear. He pressed a kiss onto your lips and nodded. “I’ll be real gentle, okay?”

Slowly letting go of his length and having your hand replaced by his own, you put your hands on his upper arms. He didn’t rush it – didn’t push it inside of you at once, instead caressing the tip of his cock through your folds and rubbing it onto your clit for a little bit.

But it was going to have to happen eventually and even though you’d anticipated it, the feeling of his tip finding home at your entrance still made your muscles tense up and your nails digging into his skin a little.

“Relax,” he whispered, looking into your eyes before kissing the corner of your mouth. “Jus’ try an’ relax, or it won’t feel good, cherry,”

Truth was, it wasn’t going to feel good either way. Emma had already warned you about this, even going as far as to say she had bled when she lost her virginity.

God, how embarrassing would that be… although you doubted Elvis would mind it, because he seemed like an understanding man, but you still didn’t want it to happen.

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded, trying as hard as you could to relax, but it was barely working when he pushed himself inside of you at a snail’s pace. Inch by inch his cock disappeared inside of you, stretching you the way his fingers, or your own, never could.

He let out a deep groan that came straight from his gut as he finally bottomed out, having missed someone so incredibly tight engulfing him.

“E-Elvis… It h-hurts..” you looked at him with wide eyes, nails pressed into his arms so firm you were sure small crescent moons were created in his flesh but he didn’t stop you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, leaning his elbows on the bed on either side of your head, slipping one arm underneath your head to keep you close to him. “But it’ll feel better in a little while, ‘lright? Jus’ relax..”

You trusted him and you really hoped he was right, because now you were so full you could barely speak. He could see the tears twinkling in your eyes and as he lovingly kissed your cheeks, his fingertips caressing your shoulder, you melted into his arms a little more.

He held still inside of you for quite a while, letting you get used to the feeling of being filled with something the size of his cock – which, for the record, was definitely not small.

Perhaps someone who’d been so blessed wasn’t the right person to lose your virginity to on a physical level, but then again… go big or go home.

Emma would be proud of you.

And all craziness aside, you were happy that you were losing your virginity to Elvis Presley. Not because he was famous, but because he was so gentle and sweet, taking his time with you and being patient. It was good to have someone older, someone with experience who knew how a woman’s body worked instead of taking what he wanted and calling it a day.

This was truly a special and intimate moment and you were losing yourself into it more and more.

As you felt you were relaxed enough, you whispered to Elvis that you were ready and boy, were you wrong. The second he slowly and softly started thrusting into you, those tears that had blurred your vision were starting to roll down your cheeks. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him closer into your embrace which made him hide his face in your neck – you didn’t want him to see your tears, nor did you want him to stop.

A million of girls have been through this for centuries.

If they could do it, so could you.

“Don’t cry, honey,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck. Damnit, why does he seem to know everything? “Jus’ relax… Give all of yourself to me..”

He kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and they helped you relax and your muscles to lose that tension – must be witchcraft, you were positive of it.

Step by step, slowly but surely, Elvis picked up the pace as he heard your gasps and soft cries turn into soft moans. The sting was still very much present, but the burning sensation had subsided and you were sure that had everything to do with the grunts and deep moans leaving Elvis, and the sight of him on top of you. He had pulled his face out of your neck again, his eyes boring into yours and while you usually hated eye contact this intensely and for so long, now you couldn’t find it in you to look away.

You were lost in those oceanic blue orbs and when he smiled that sweet smile at you, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were sickly in love with Elvis Presley.

It wasn’t just idol infatuation.

You were totally, completely, irrevocably in love.

Sex was a tricky thing to human kind. Some people used it as a meaningless way to get what they want or to meet their needs, and other people view it as something sacred, something meant to be shared with only that person who you love more than anything in the world.

You had no idea it could be this good, never believing Emma when she said that once you’d done it, you would only want more and more. You’d turn greedy, goddamn near feral because it was such a raw and primal instinct… perhaps that was why it was considered a sin.

You’d never think you would turn into one of those girls that would crave sex and felt like they’d just die if they didn’t get it. But Elvis had that kind of effect on you.

The sun had long risen over Las Vegas but the suite was still dark due to Elvis’ dark curtains being drawn. It must’ve been around 6 or 7 in the morning, but neither of you had slept a wink.

When he’d popped your cherry a few hours earlier, it had hurt. The second time you did it, there was still a slight uncomfortable sting. But by the third time, you were a moaning mess as he turned you around and pressed your face in the pillow, the sound of his balls hitting your clit with every thrust filling the room.

If it wasn’t for the sex daze you were in, you’d be embarrassed by the way you were already crawling onto his lap again after the both of you had taken a shower. Your limbs felt weak and Elvis felt the same, but you couldn’t help yourself and Elvis couldn’t deny you.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned as you straddled him and sunk down onto his length, your hands on his chest, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I created a monster.”

You laughed softly at his words as your cheeks flushed crimson, although that could just as well be because you were so worked up. Elvis grabbed onto your hips and pulled you down a little more, gasping as you fept his tip grazing your g-spot.

“O-Oh… Elvis..” you moaned, biting your lower lip harshly. “S-So deep.. like this..”

He smirked, moving his hands to your ass to squeeze your cheeks in his palms before landing a soft slap on the left one. “That’s right, baby. Can’t get enough of bein’ filled, can ya?”

You giggled softly and started thrusting, slow at first but quickly working your way up to a faster and more steady pace. Didn’t take long for you two to become a bunch of moaning messes once more, going at it like damn rabbits.

It had felt like Elvis had taken a piece of your soul from the moment he’d entered you for the first time and you willingly gave it up for him to keep. You had blossomed into a new person tonight – broken out of your cocoon, going from girl to woman.

Elvis bent his knees a little, heels pressed into the mattress as he grabbed onto your hips and kept you from moving. Instead, he took over and thrusted up into you in such a pace that you had to grip onto his arms to keep steady.

“Oh, fuck!”

He was surprised by the profanity coming from you, but definitely not disappointed. He liked his ladies soft spoken in public, but inside these four walls it was a whole different story. Those rules didn’t apply and especially not to you, because he enjoyed this side of you.

Added more fuel to his fire.

“Shit, I fuckin’ love that pussy,” he growled as he clenched his jaw, his fingers most likely leaving marks on your skin. You threw your head back and Elvis took the opportunity to watch the softness of your skin, he could’ve sworn he could see your heartbeat pulsing underneath it, and the way your breasts bounced along with his thrusts.

He wasn’t going to last long and neither were you with the way he was pounding into you, hitting the right spot every time his hips came up. You were moaning so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the downstair neighbors could hear the whole thing.

Though before the two of you could reach climax, he wrapped one arm around your waist and switched positions so fast you barely noticed it until you were laying on your back and he was pounding into you like a mad man. The beads of sweat that formed on his forehead, the animalistic growl that left him when he pulled out of you after a few more thrusts to release strings of cum onto your breasts and stomach was a sight to behold. This man was extraordinary.

You’d fallen over the edge right before he’d pulled out and you were clenching pathetically around nothing, wrapping your arms around him to keep him somewhat close, careful not to mess up the masterpiece he’d created on your skin. His lips found yours, kissing you for a little bit until he hid his face in your neck.

“I think I’ll keep you… My personal little Cherry,” he grinned against your skin and you scoffed softly.

“What am I? A puppy?”

He pulled his head back to look at you and raise an eyebrow, playfully nudging your chin. “Oh, she’s been fucked a couple of times and immediately has an attitude, huh?”

You laughed softly at his words, cupping his face to playfully squeeze his cheeks together. He leans into your touch and softly bites down onto your thumb before kissing it.

“You ain’t a puppy,” he said as he smirked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You’re jus’ a little baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” You exclaimed, pretending to be offended as you gasp.

He nodded his head and leaned his face closer to you, pecking your lips while he talked against your mouth. “Uh-huh, you are. A baby with pretty little feet and little red cherry cheeks,”

Instantly, you blushed and pouted against his lips, which made him laugh softly. “As long as I’m your baby, I’ll take it.”

You didn’t mean to say those words. They felt too bold for you to be saying and you half expected him to turn serious and tell you not to get things in your head, but instead he looked into your eyes and smiled.

“Ofcourse,” he said, patting your hair. “You’re my little cherry and I don’t like sharin’..” his fingertip caressed across the black star sapphire diamond engraved into the ring you were still wearing around your neck.

For the whole past year, you had not taken it off once.

“We should clean up and sleep,” you whispered, ignoring how his words had sent your heart aflame.

“I wanna get ya ‘nother present,”

He was already getting up and pulling you off the bed, letting you wander off into the bathroom to clean his cum off of you. This time, you left the door unlocked and seconds later, Elvis came in with his jewelry box.

“Elvis, no.. Put that away. Let’s sleep..”

“Honey,” he said sternly, although you could hear he was playful at the same time. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you closer to him and grabbed a ring, slipping it into your finger, looking at it and when decided he didn’t like it, he took it off of you and rumbled through the box to find another piece. “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

You let out a laugh and shook your head at his antics. While he was putting jewelry on you, from rings to bracelets, your eyes were on him.

This magical, weird, funny, sweet man that had the world at the tip of his fingers and probably one of the richest people in the country, and yet he had no problem giving away his gold as if they were pieces of candy.

You didn’t care about the jewelry, though. Or about the money, or about any of the luxury. All you cared about was the man next to you, a child like smile of excitement rooted on his face.

You didn’t want to think about it all ending, so you forced yourself not to. Because all that mattered was right here and now, and this night (and morning) of two people’s souls connecting the way they’d done.

They say you never forget your first time and you wholeheartedly believed that statement. How in the world could you ever forget Elvis Presley?

Taglist: @peaceloveelvis @notstefaniepresley @jhoneybees

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #tamwrites

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lindszeppelin · 2 years

Text

Show Me Your Wild Side

pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

summary: Austin has been your adoring boyfriend for quite some time now. On a rainy day spent inside, you two spend some much needed quality time together. pretty simple premise but will pack a punch...trust me.

rating: Mature, 18+. Minors, get yo self outta here! Avert your eyes.

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, dom and sub dynamic, edging/orgasm denial, thigh riding, over-sensitivity. maybe more i forgot to mention?

word count: 10.2k. listen, i didn’t come to play around.

a/n: Hey loves!! This is my first go at writing fanfiction in years, so do forgive any grammatical errors and things like that. I hope you enjoy!

tags: @elvisstyles

From the moment you first set your eyes on Austin Butler, you knew he was gonna be trouble -- but the best kind. He courted you properly like the gentleman he is, taking his time with you. Getting to know all the little details about you and making sure to remember important things you told him like names, dates, places you loved to visit, your favorite things. That sickeningly sweet honeymoon phase that usually fizzles out after a few months with most couples never went away with you two. In fact, your love story is still drenched in desire. The flame between you both never dying out, only getting stronger as time goes on. You were a perfect match.

Not long after he successfully wooed you into his life, he offered for you to live with him full time. He was bi-coastal, spending the majority of his time in California, but he had a little loft in Manhattan that complimented your already existing lifestyle. This was where the two of you would start to make a home that was yours. He didn’t complain when you took over half of the available bathroom sink space with your makeup and hair tools -- in fact, he bought you your own vanity table that you knew was far too expensive, but he wanted to show how much he appreciated you.

Your perfectly imperfect lives intermingled like something out of a fairytale. Suddenly you were not just two people coexisting in the same space. You were one in the same. It was the little things about one another that made the love deepen with each day. A prime example -- When he would get sucked into a new script he was reading, he had a pen he would use to take notes that would find permanent residence in his mouth, the cap of it being chewed to smithereens by the time he was finished annotating. The little gnawing noises and hums he made was one of his quirks that might drive anyone else batshit insane. But you loved him for it.

Slowly but surely, you managed to fine a routine within your busy lives. The weekends specifically were centered around one on one time with each other. No one else, no distractions, just you and Austin. The day would typically start with a slow, passionate love making session in bed, followed by breakfast and maybe some light reading. You two also loved to play board games and had stacks upon stacks high up to the ceiling of old fashioned games and puzzles -- he was a master Monopoly player, and you a wiz at Scrabble. As the day turns into evening, you would make a homecooked meal together, which he loved to do with you. Cooking was one of his love languages. He couldn’t get enough of your reactions to his creations -- how you sighed in delight at a new recipe he was trying out. It made his heart soar. And to cap off the night, you two either found yourselves dancing to records or you put on a movie. Some of the times you actually watched the film, but it usually ended with clothes on the floor and you two fucking into the early morning hours.

Today was one of these nights. You and Austin lay comfortably in your king sized bed, the blinds were open just enough so that the orange hues from the New York sunset were cascading over you. The pitter patter of rain landing delicately along the old rusty windows of your loft added to the relaxing ambiance. On the tv in front of you was A Street Car Named Desire, one of yours and Austin’s favorite films. You both had an affinity for classic films.

This was your version of heaven on Earth. Nothing else mattered but you and him exactly like this -- his arm draped along your waist pulling you into his side, his fingers lightly dancing across your silk nightie. Your head rested on his chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm became one of your most favorite sounds. This was perfection, and you wanted to trap time in a bottle so it could never be forgotten.

At some point during the night, you had dozed off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace. He didn’t really notice right away, as he was paying attention to the film. But he turned his attention away from the movie for a split second and looked down at the sight before him -- you asleep in his arms. He smiled warmly, wondering if he should continue to let you rest or rouse you. He decided on the latter.

“Y/N?” He shook you gently. The hand that was glued to your waist found its way into your hair, stroking your head with such care as he turned and kissed you awake on your forehead.

“Hmm?” You stirred beneath him and slowly lifted your head up to meet his gaze. You could look deep into Austin’s crystalline blue eyes all day. They sparkled with nothing but pure love and adoration for you, his girl.

“Sorry doll, I was just checking on you, You were silent for a long while.”

“Oh shit, did I miss the part where Stanley tries to win Stella back?”

He chuckled. His hand left your head and trailed it’s way slowly down your back, his fingers grazing your spine in a way that made you shiver at his touch. “ ‘fraid so baby. The movie’s almost over.”

“Damn, that’s my favorite part too.” You whined.

“I mean, between us both I think we’ve watched this film at least 1000 times. You didn’t really miss anything.” He reasoned.

“I know! But there’s something about that scene that I love. Sure, Stanley is an asshole. But it’s kinda romantic when he calls out for her, pleading with her to take him back. And she goes to him like she knew she would. Then he whisks her away in his arms.” You signed, somehow even getting more comfortable around Austin’s tall frame as you drape your leg over one of his. You always were a big hopeless romantic. And he was too, which made you somehow swoon over him even more than you ever thought was possible. Any book, song, or film to do with love was exactly what you were both into. And these classic films just knew how to paint the perfect picture of a love story that unfurls with such realism. It reminded you of what you cultivated with Austin -- an unbreakable, cherished bond.

You snuggled deeper into him now, and placed a tiny kiss upon his chest before your ear found it’s way back home to his heartbeat. The corners of his lips upturned in a content smile. He appreciates your sentimentality for the classics like he does, and your idealistic way of looking at the world.

“Yeah, you’re right baby I like that moment too. When I first started getting into acting as a kid I studied that scene far too many times. Probably annoyed the hell outta my parents. Brando is just phenomenal.” Austin could ramble on for days about his extreme love of film, but he stops himself short, leaving it at that. You thought it was so cute when he would open up to you about his passion for the arts. It was such a turn on seeing your man’s face light up about the subject. You wouldn’t mind listening him drone on about it until his voice was hoarse. And some days you did just that.

“mmm.” You hummed peacefully. He let himself stare at you for a little while and tried to commit this to memory. It was unfortunate that his hectic work schedule left you two with not a lot of time during the week. On those particular moments of separation, he would dive deep into the recesses of his mind for all the delicious remembrances of you and get off on them.

He made sure to remember your soft skin, your long hair cascading down your back that tickled his arm draped around your waist, the feminine floral scent of your perfume lingering all around him, sticking to his clothes. Your silk nightie riding up your thigh, showing him a bit of tantalizing skin. And of course, one of his favorite mental notes, the way your ass fit perfectly in the palms of his big masculine hands. It was intoxicating.

Austin eventually came back down to reality after being lost in his own fantasies and brought his other hand up to his face, checking the time on the vintage watch that adorned his wrist. It was getting really late and the film was basically over at this point. He took the remote beside him and switched off the tv. The room was now filled with a comfortable silence, the sound of the rain, and your combined breathing. Total bliss.

“What do you think, you wanna get ready for bed?” He asked you, in a low rasp that reverberated within you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up to attention.

“No not yet...not yet. i don’t wanna move ” You squeezed yourself even more impossibly tighter to his body, melting into him. You definitely were not planning on letting him go anytime soon. He was okay with that.

“Alright, i’ll allow you to keep using me as your personal pillow for a little while longer.” He joked. He definitely was not complaining either. Austin could stay in this position for the rest of his life. And he was the comfiest pillow you’ve ever had the pleasure of resting on.

“Good, cause i like it here.”

“Me too.” He cooed.

Contentment. Pure, unadulterated contentment. You and Austin laid there in bed, happily enjoying each others company. As you allow yourself to just simply be with him in this moment, you fluttered your eyes closed and honed in on every sensation he was making you feel. Just as it was so intoxicating for him to be around you, he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were completely at his mercy. Even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy, he just naturally was. All the time. Never have you met a man that brought you to your knees as quickly as Austin. Just the faintest touch or a certain look from him could make you crack.

You focused intently on the way his finger tips were drawing lazy circles on your back. His calluses from many years of guitar playing were rough, but it elicited such an electrifying buzz, sending a chill of pleasure running throughout your body. This sensual act alone was enough to start the coil turning in your stomach. Your leg that was hung over his rose up just a little higher, daring to make contact with the part of him you craved. His jean clad thigh resting flush against your soft core stirred the fire within you. The lace panties you were wearing were sure to be drenched any moment, and yet again you’d have to toss them and buy yourself another pair. But what the hell, if that’s one of the prices you pay for being with this gorgeous man, then that was alright with you.

You bit your lip to stifle the tiniest moan that wanted to escape your lips. You wanted to devour him whole and send him reeling down the path of aching desire for you -- moaning your name, spilling inside of you hot and fast while he peppered your body with wet kisses, milking him for every last drop of his come. This was now your sole mission for tonight. You needed him.

Slowly peeling your upper body away from him, your large doe eye bore into his with intense lust. Your hand that was lovingly resting on his stomach was now making it’s way up to land in the crook of his neck. Your thumb tenderly stroked his jaw, and he flexed beneath your delicate hand. Austin didn’t even need you to utter a single word for him to understand what you wanted.

He was no match for the sexual prowess you beguiled him with. Your cheeks were flush, hot and red for him. That was one of your telltale signs that you were yearning for him, he knew your body all too well. You may be the sweetest little thing, acting all innocent around other people. But when it’s just you and him in a room together, the sexual hunger is so intense it drives you both wild with passion. He loved that special side of you that no other man gets to see. Only he can make you come in a matter of seconds, and that knowledge is powerful.

As he stared back at his beautiful girl gazing at him with an innate yearning for his touch, he too felt the embers inside of him start to unfurl. The energy in the room shifted, the primal desire to be inside of you was the only thing that mattered. Austin’s shaky hand reached out to cup your face tenderly. Adrenaline coursing through his veins. He needed you too, and now.

“Aus...”

As soon as his name left your lips, he was on you in a flash. Wasting no time in crashing his plush mouth onto yours. Your lips danced together in tandem, perfectly in sync with one another -- pushing and pulling exactly when warranted. It was so sensual and laced with want. He had one hand tangled in your soft hair, and the other one clutching onto your waist desperate for your curves against him. You shimmied a little higher up onto his leg, still not letting yourself get too close to his cock. You wanted to savor every bit of this feeling right now.

Each moment your lips met you relished in the way he worked his mouth against you. He was delicate, as if not wanting to break you, but yet pining inexplicably for you in every feasible way. His tongue probed your bottom lip, testing you to see if you would let him in. And you do, eagerly. Soon enough your sweet, wanton kisses turned hot and sloppy. The rich taste of bourbon from dinner was still lingering on his breath, and the seductive taste of his mouth on yours had you moaning into him. He happily swallowed every noise you made, and returned them right back to you. God you loved it when he let himself unravel into nothing but whimpers. Knowing that you were the one to elicit such delicious sounds from him made you instantly soaked.

With your leg still tangled over his, you roll your hips into a position where your core was directly in contact against his upper thigh. You reluctantly pulled away from his flushed, pouting mouth to prop your hands on his chest for leverage, angling yourself in such a way that your clit was rubbing right against him. As you rolled your hips you let a slew of breathy moans fall from your lips, looking him square in the eye as you grind your wetness against his leg. His chest heaves, so turned on by you mewling and writhing on top of him. To think that this is how you react with just his leg has him dying to have his way with your pussy in the most sinful ways.

“Fuck. So needy for me, baby.” He places his hands on your hips and grounds you even harder against his leg, picking up the pace just a tad. Your panties can no longer contain how turned on you are, and your juices starts to seep out into a giant wet spot on his jeans. He doesn’t care one bit. Seeing you fall apart in his hands makes him rock hard.

“Austin...I...” You have your head thrown back in euphoria. You could easily come like this in a matter of mere seconds. However, you definitely need more of him. You want every single inch of him all at once to fill you completely. But your brain is too fuzzy to relay any of this to him. Only his name repeated over and over again like a prayer is what you choose to latch on to.

“Come on baby, use your words.” He eggs you on, biting his bottom lip. He digs his fingers a little more into your hips, sure that it would leave bruises on your delicate skin. You try your best to muster up something to say but you’re still on cloud 9.

“I need...I need you.”

Amused by how completely blissed out you are riding his thigh, he lets out a devilish chuckle. “That’s a start,” He lets go of your hips with one of his hands, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your head down to meet his striking blue eyes that have turned dark with carnal lust. “How do you need me? Let it out.” He growled.

As much as you desperately need Austin to fuck you senseless into the bed and have you screaming, you still wanted to keep the sensuality going. Foreplay was his specialty, and he was a generous giver. He knew exactly how to use his fingers and mouth to have you crumbling beneath him. As you keep grinding down on him, your clit throbs at the image of his tongue lapping up your juices. This is what you needed.

“I need you...to eat me out.” You finally answered back eagerly. You were not beneath begging for Austin to take you. The submissive side of you loved to be unashamed at how desperate for Austin you were. And to him, there was nothing hotter in this world than seeing you beg for him.

His lips twitched into a smirk. He fucking loved how much you wanted him in every possible way. And if one thing was certain right now, it was that he was going to eat you out like he was a starved man in search of sustenance.

He swallowed thickly. “Sit on my face babygirl.”

Your heart thumped hard in your chest at hearing those naughty words come out of his mouth. Wasting no time at all, you pry yourself away from his thigh, briefly looking down at your handywork where you noticed that spot on his jeans. What was also plain as day was the fact that he was already painfully hard. Your eyes widen as you sucked your bottom lip into your teeth, admiring the outline of his cock.

You feel the blood rush to your chest and face, completely hot with need for his mouth on you. Remembering the task at hand, you swiftly stood up at the foot of the bed and took off your drenched panties, throwing them somewhere behind you, having no care in the world if you lose them later. Along with it, you shimmy your nightie off your shoulders as it pools to a heap at your feet. Austin sits up on his elbows, his eyes roams your body in an obscene way, admiring your beautiful naked form in front of him. His cock twitches in his pants.

Seeing him so hungry for you gave you a momentary flash of courage during a moment where you would otherwise be shy as a wallflower. “Like what you see?” You said dreamily, making sure to skim you hands down your shoulders and cup your perky breasts. His stifled moan was the answer to your question.

Austin made quick work of the t-shirt he was wearing, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor without a care. Your mouth went slack as you admired his gorgeously toned body. This man was to be the death of you.

Noticing your obvious staring, he smirked and raised a cocky eyebrow, giving you a taste of your own medicine. “Like what you see, darlin’?”. God, did you ever. He may have won that little innocent moment of power play, but the ball was now in your court to make a bolder move.

Like the sex kitten you know you are, you crawl your way onto the bed, giving him a show as you sway your hips like an enchantress. His hands roamed the peaks and valleys of your divine figure, shivering beneath his fingers. As you climb up the bed your let your breasts get tantalizingly close to his face, just to keep teasing him further. He absolutely was not about to let the opportunity go by though. So before you could get out of his reach he languidly let his tongue capture one of your nipples, rolling it into his mouth. He spent ample time lavishing your breast before moving to the other one.

“Baby...” you moaned. The sensation was delicious, sending a new wave of wetness pooling between your legs. He grazed his teeth against your nipple ever so gently before letting it pop out of his mouth. The breath hitched in your throat. He knew your breasts were extremely sensitive to his touch, but he loved teasing you in every conceivable way, making you squirm. “Austin!” You shuddered.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” His hands found their way to the backs of your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze. “Now get moving. I wanna taste you.” And with a gentle tap on your ass for encouragement, you were off. You didn’t need to be told twice.

You made quick work of moving your self up to the top of the bed. Once there, you swing your legs over and around Austin’s shoulders, getting yourself settled into this new position.

His hands take hold of your hips, resuming their previous position and digging into your flesh once more. He slides down a little so his face is in direct alignment with your dripping core. You shake in suspense, anticipating his needy tongue on your folds at any moment.

He licks his lips, fully taking in the glorious sight above him. “That’s it, let me see that perfect pussy.” His voice oozing with sex. He’s so eager to have you smother him completely and drown in your juices. His hot breath underneath your wetness makes you quiver. As he places chaste kisses on your inner thighs, you grasp onto the wall Infront of you in preparation for the onslaught you’re about to receive.

Austin would and probably could swallow you whole right now. But he was holding back every urge in his body to resist making you come too fast. So he decided that he would take his time with you.

You practically saw stars when you felt his tongue lick one long flat swipe across you and flick up to your clit. He was savoring your taste. Teasing you. Enraptured in how your luscious folds felt against his mouth. Your perfect swollen bud between his lips. He adored you completely. Your hearts were beating at rapid fire in your chests. The passion was palpable and hung thick in the air.

With no time to waste, Austin began a steady pace of broad, sensual strokes against your pussy, making sure to flick up the tip of his tongue on your clit before diving back down into your folds. Over and over and over again his firm tongue glided effortlessly through your slick. He greedily slurped up every single drop you had to give him. You were already like putty in his hands.

“Ooh, Aus...your tongue feels so good.” You arched your back and started slowly riding his face. He moaned against you, encouraging you to use him however you want to get yourself off, the vibration sending shockwaves of extra pleasure straight to your aching clit. The stubble on his face was scratching against your thighs as he ate you out, making you hiss at the burning sensation. But it was overwhelmingly delicious.

He couldn’t control his carnal urges anymore. In no time he worked his mouth faster against your sopping cunt, diving his tongue deep into your folds, licking and sucking every inch of you as you rode him. A few times he let a wandering hand travel to his erection as he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the pressure building inside of him. And occasionally, he dipped the entire length of his tongue right inside of you, exploring every single nook and cranny to drive you insane. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, sucking him as far as he could go. “Fuuuck yes baby...” You groaned.

It was absolutely primal, you were being sent to the precipice with every swipe of his tongue. The obscene sloshing noises of your soaked pussy and his wet tongue was absolutely pornographic. It was music to both of your ears. You were in complete awe of the way he utterly worshiped your body. Austin always made sure to do right by you and treat you like a goddess. And it showed in the way his mouth engulfed your pussy in a fervor.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to look down and see what this man was doing to make you feel so good. You moaned loudly as your eyes were locked with his in a soul snatching stare that set you ablaze. This turned you on like no other. As you ground yourself harder against his velvet lips you swear that you saw him wink at you.

He clung onto your hips, almost afraid that you would float away on this intense high. You gushed around his mouth and he hummed against you. After giving some generous attention to your folds, he had his sights set on your clit. You were a goner. He set a dizzying pace as he maneuvered against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy of needy moans.

Austin new exactly how to pleasure you, and he took pride in doing so. He mixed his go-to techniques all at once to bring you to your peak. He first brought your clit into his mouth and shook his head back and forth vigorously, coating his face with your slick in the process. Then he went to flicking with just the tip of his tongue at warp speed. The last ingredient to this orgasmic recipe was deliberately switching things up by slowly lapping at your bud. This man has the most talented mouth on the planet. You felt like your heart would explode out of your chest if he kept this up.

The coil in your stomach was impossibly tight, letting you know that your crashing orgasm was on it’s way. He just kept going to town on you ferociously, unrelenting. Ravishing you like you were his last meal. He brought your clit into his mouth and masterfully sucked away, his tongue lapping and collecting all of your juices in his mouth, groaning against your pussy...it was all swirling into a cacophony of otherworldly, indescribable sensations.

“Fuuuuck, Austin...” You moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy.

One of your hands trailed it’s way down to his mop of dirty blonde locks between your legs. His curls were plastered to his face with sweat from exertion, and you gripped him for dear life as he devoured your sweet cunt. He loved this, because he gave your ass a smack in approval. You were so love drunk on him, and he on you. You didn’t know exactly how much time you had before you collapse on top of him, but you knew it wasn’t very much longer. Your walls began to flutter around his tongue.

“I’m gonna fucking come all over your face.” You squealed, feeling the wave of your climax attempting to pour out of you and suffocate him.

The high pitched moans that were cascading out of your mouth like a waterfall was his signal that you were close. He could play nice and let your juices drip down his chin as you rode out your orgasm. However, even though that idea sounded amazing, he had other plans for you this evening. And Austin certainly was not about to let you come so quickly. A part of him felt bad for doing this to you right now, but only a little.

As you were in the throws of passion, chasing your high and your impending climax, Austin swiftly pulled his lips away from you. Your clit coming out of his mouth with a wet plop. You felt the wind knock out of you, like you were hit by a freight train at 100 miles an hour. Being on the edge of reality and crashlanding back down to your Manhattan loft was jarring to say the least. Trying to gain hold of your senses, you looked down at him. The look on your face flashed with multiple feelings - but mostly annoyance, horniness, and utter confusion. You literally were seconds away from coming.

Austin peppered kisses along your inner thighs and looked up at you through his long lashes. His breath was heavy and labored, eyes half-lidded and pupils completely blown out with with a raging fire behind them. Swallowing any remnants of your juices left in his mouth, he threw you a playful smile from below.

“Sorry doll, but you’re not coming just yet.”

Seriously?! This man had you on the very brink of a powerful orgasm, and he took it away from you just as quickly as it came. Your mind was a jumbled up mess. How can he just..do that without warning?! You definitely heard what he said, but it went in one ear and out the other. All you were really focusing on is your throbbing clit begging for release, and the fact that you couldn’t have it.

“Austin, please! That’s not fair!” You whined.

“Well, life isn’t always fair baby. We’re playing by my rules tonight. Now hop off me.”

Exasperated, you refused to move. In fact, you really couldn’t move even if you tried. Your legs were like jelly beneath you. Your thighs clamped around his head for so long that the thought of moving now sent a harsh wave of pins and needles prickling down your lower extremities. A part of you wished that this was some kind of sick joke and that he would finish what he started. But alas, that wasn’t about to happen. He was for real.

Austin noticed your reluctance to do much of anything, and doubled down on his command. Something wicked inside of him was brewing, and you were now on the receiving end of his games.

“Hey,” He says firmly, smacking your ass “Quit being a brat and get down here.”

As much as you strongly wanted to protest, you let out a loud sigh and followed his orders. Gathering up whatever strength you had left, your shaky legs gave way under you as you swung them off of Austin’s face. A string of his saliva trailed along with you as you rolled onto your back. As you collapsed onto the bed, you tried to gain some kind of composure. It seemed a little cruel that he would pull the rug from underneath you.

But as quickly as your head hit the pillow he was on you in a heartbeat.

Austin straddled either side of you as he pressed his body against yours. You instinctively went to wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close. But he was faster than you, forcing your legs apart at your sides, capturing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs with the palms of his hands.

You were no match for how strong he was, no matter how you tried to buck yourself free from the confines of his vice grip, it seems like a fruitless effort. He hovered over you, his breath hot on your neck.

“Uh uh, not so fast. I have...other plans for you.” He growled. You knew that he was going to have his way with you tonight according to how he saw fit. As badly as you wanted him and your own release, you came to the realization that fighting back would be useless.

Relinquishing any power you had left in that moment, your thighs gave into the weight of his hands. He opened you up as far as you could go, exposing the heat of your core to the cold air. Your drenched pussy was on full display for him in an intensely erotic fashion.

“That’s my good girl. Now, you may not like my rules. But be forewarned. Disobey them and I won’t give you what you want. Follow my rules, and you’ll be rewarded. Understood?” Your eyes widened at this display of dominance. It wasn’t all too often that you and Austin played this dom/sub dynamic. But you couldn’t deny how hard and fast he could make you come by simply taking what's his. As frustrating as it was that he was keeping you on the edge, it was also exhilarating.

Finally understanding his game and playing along, you nodded in accordance to the guidelines he set. This pleased him, but he knew that you probably would break his rules and he’d have to find a way to punish you. But for now, he knew he had you under his spell.

“Good.” He slowly released his grip on your inner thighs and got up off the bed. Standing in front of you, he places his hands on the fly of his jeans. He knew you wanted to see his massive cock spring free, but he purposefully pulled down the zipper at a snails pace. Your chest rose and fell sharply, the anticipation building.

After what felt like an eternity, Austin allowed himself to push his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. He toed both garments off to the side and stood there intently watching your reaction.

A soft moan fell from your lips as you took in the sight of his thick cock standing to attention. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, compared to your previous lovers. And you were craving for him to stretch you and fill you completely. The fact that you knew you couldn’t have him right here and now was agonizing. And he knew this, which he used to his advantage.

Looking down upon you with intense lust in his eyes like a predator watching their prey, he took his aching cock in his hand, smearing the bead of precum on his tip and spreading it over himself. He lazily pumped himself a few times, his eyes trailing up and down your body and eventually settling on your needy cunt. The sight of his saliva and your wetness smeared across your pussy and thighs, flushed red like the most beautiful rose, created a newfound thirst for you that needed to be quenched.

He licked his lips and pumped himself faster, flexing his toned biceps as he stroked himself. He was putting on a show for you, exactly like how you were moments ago for him. This was torture. “Fuck...” A staggered moan falling from his lips.

Watching him just stand there like the sexy man he was, touching himself and ogling at your pussy, was too much for your feeble willpower to handle. To relieve the pressure, you let one of your hands slide down your stomach, about to touch your clit. But he was quick to stop you.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself, you hear me? That’s an order.” He snapped. That alone got you so wet. Him being aggressive like this turns you on so much. Although you so badly wanted to touch your needy clit, you figure that the sooner you followed his rules the sooner you could come. So you once again, you obeyed. Your hands left your stomach and idly fell on the bed. You were a good girl and you were gonna show him.

Satisfied with you actually listening to his order, he took his hand away from his throbbing cock and crawled back onto the bed. Instead of moving directly on top of you, he settled down next to you, propping himself up on his forearm. Your legs were still spread wide for him, and he ensured you stayed in this position by moving his leg over one of yours to hold you there with his weight.

He took his free hand and palmed your face, gripping just hard enough to accentuate his authority.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded a little harder. He chuckled under his breath.

“You want me to touch you, don’t ya?”. That was obviously rhetorical.

You nodded even harder.

“I know darlin’, I know what you want...I always know what you want...”

And sure enough, he knows exactly what you want. He collides his lips with yours. It’s all teeth and tongue. Its raw, passionate, and needy. Desperate. You both moan into the kisses, starving for each other. The hand on your cheek travels down your throat, giving you a tentative squeeze, reminding you who was in control. Austin turns his attention to your breasts. He cupped them, the fullness of your tits sitting perfectly in his large hand. He let his thumb skim over your nipples, ghosting them with light circles making them instantly hard under his touch. Sighing in delight, you tangled your hand in his golden hair, bringing him closer to your crashing mouths.

You scream internally when he finally moves his hand, albeit agonizingly slow, down your stomach. It was close but not close enough to where you want him. He takes his time in getting there inch by scorching inch to your core. Austin enjoys toying with you a little too much for your own liking, but he knew it riled you up in the best way.

His long middle finger skipped past your clit and went down to collect the wetness from your weeping hole before sliding it up your slit. This elicited a deep moan from the pit of your stomach. He spread your juices all over your folds, tenderly, knowing this was driving you wild.

“Austin...” You whined into his kisses.

Finally, he caved in and allowed himself to give you a taste of what you wanted. With your slick dragging along his fingers, he places circles on your clit. In a double whammy move, he also took your bottom lip in his mouth and bit down at the same time. Both of these sensations caused a strangled moan to erupt from within you.

Releasing your lip from his teeth, his tongue licked the shell of your ear. His breath sending shivers down your spine. “So fucking wet for me.” He mused.

He trailed hot kisses down your neck, finding the area he knows is your weak spot and ravishing it with his mouth. Your legs splayed even further out from your sides, giving him more access to your pussy in a display of submission. He was playing you like a finely tuned instrument, the music being the beautiful sounds falling from your lips and your dripping core.

After a few teasing circles on your clit, he went back down to play with your pussy lips with more fingers. He probed your entrance with his middle finger, both of you hissing at this newfound sensation.

“Goddamn baby, still so tight for me after all this time.”

He pushed his finger as far as it could go, brushing against your g-spot. Another strangled moan cascaded out of your mouth and into his ear, savoring every second. “Oh yes...”

He slowly began to leisurely pump his finger in and out of you, taking your pussy for a test ride before adding a second finger inside you. The feeling of your walls contracting and stretching around him was intoxicating. He wanted so badly to replace his fingers with his cock, but he had to show restraint. Not now...later.

“Aus!” Your head was thrown back against the pillow. He watched as his fingers slide in and out of you effortlessly, your tight walls hugging around him. He was power hungry off of watching you fall apart in his arms.

Austin wasn’t about to ease up on you. He went faster, fingering you like his life depended on it. Slamming into you, applying just the right amount of pressure to your g-spot. Your pussy was making loud squelching noises in no time.

“You like that baby, hmm? Being fucked mercilessly by my fingers?” He groaned in your ear.

“Yes!...just like that...” You screamed.

This man would be your undoing. Here you were, completely at his mercy, letting him use your body in however way he saw fit. As much as he was in the drivers seat right now, you wanted to show him how good you could be. You were playing a dangerous game, but your mind was already made up on the card you were going to deal right now. You were lost in the pleasure, and you needed more of him.

You couldn’t stop your hand from gliding over his toned chest and abs, earning a lustful sigh from Austin. Bolder yet, you instinctively went lower and lower until your fingertips brushed against the tip of his cock. His jaw flexed, tightly shutting his eyes, biting his tongue and swallowing back a moan. While he was having his way with your body he mostly neglected himself in favor of getting you off first. Your hand making contact with his hard cock drove him wild.

As you dipped your toes in the water to see if this was acceptable to continue, he looked down at you. No longer could you see the icy blue eyes you so lovingly adored. They were completely black. If looks could kill, you’d be dead in this very moment.

You knew what you were doing was okay when he rolled his hip in your hand, asking for you to go on, your fingers sliding along his shaft. He was pleading with his stare for you to touch him. His pulse quickened, waiting with baited breath for you to give him more.

You knew better than to go any further with a dry hand, you weren’t a sadist.

He huffed when you briefly pulled your hand away from his length, but his eyes widened when you went to spit generously into your palm. You felt him throb strongly against your leg. He knew he would be a done for as soon as your delicate hand milked his thick cock, but he also reminded himself that he was still in control -- his fingers were still buried to the hilt in your pussy after all.

The guttural, loud groan that erupted from within him when your slippery hand wrapped around his pulsing shaft made your walls clench stronger around his fingers. You could have come just from hearing your man fall to pieces in your hand, literally. The pillars of power were now balanced.

You started jerking him off, rotating your wrist expertly up and down his shaft and paying particular attention to circle the tip as you squeeze just the right amount of pressure.

Austin threw his head back and closed his eyes, blissed out on his cock finally being lavished with attention. “Goddamn it Y/N...my girl, my best girl.” He thrust his hips into your grip to get even more friction.

All bets were off now. You may have gained the upper hand with how good you were stroking his cock, but you ignited something within him. He was about to turn animalistic on a dime.

Somehow beyond your comprehension, he started brutally fucking you on his fingers even harder than before. His fingers were long, and your cervix was already feeling the beating it was getting by how sinfully hard he was thrusting into you. A thunderous growl erupted from his chest.

A strangled cry got caught in your throat. “Oh my god, Aus! Fuck!” You could have cried at how intense this feeling was. Your were riding off the back of your previously denied orgasm, and now you felt the familiar waves of another one lurking around the corner. He hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. Both of you were caught up in the feeling of each other.

Now you were a woman on a mission. Not only were you going to get your climax, but you were going to have him chase his. The speed at which you were working his cock increased, making sure to give extra attention to his red tip.

He tried his damndest to gain control of the situation, but you were jerking him off in a way he couldn’t help but give in to. For a split second his brain almost allowed himself to surrender, forgetting this game he started and take you right now, or come in your hand and be done for. He could honestly take either route right now.

But he couldn’t faulter that easily. The gears in his brain started turning. As much as he wanted to focus on his pleasure, he flipped the situation back around to his favor. He started something he had to follow through with.

“You’re my filthy little slut aren’t you?” He gritted through his teeth. You almost screamed in ecstasy when his thumb finally starting rubbing furious circles on your aching clit. “I know you wanna come baby...I know you’re close...so close”. Goddamn him, you both knew he was right.

With his fingers sloshing around in your cunt, relentlessly pressing into your g-spot making your toes curl, and his thumb working your clit, it was only a matter of seconds before you collapsed around him with an earth-shattering orgasm.

“P-Please...please” You pleaded, begging him with a string of loud squeals. Surely he wouldn’t let you go without another release. This had to be it this time. You gave his cock a harder squeeze, spurring him on, which earned you another deep, lustful groan he couldn’t suppress.

He bit his lip as he got off on watching his masterful hand bringing you to the edge all over again. The ungodly noises emanating from your mouth and your pussy was wicked. The ball was completely in his court, and unfortunately for you it was game over.

Austin’s fingers pumped into you once, twice, three times before he finally slid them out from you, your slick pouring out from your hole and getting the sheets underneath you drenched.

It seems like the universe was laughing at you in this moment.

Are. You. Kidding me?

Your eyes sprang open and you peered down to your pussy where you saw Austin bring his fingers covered in your juices up to his mouth where he licked them clean. You fell back against the pillow, your chest heaving from having been denied a second orgasm. Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now.

He made sure you locked eyes with him as he slowly sucked on his fingers, a boyish smirk appearing on his face, well aware of the torture he was inflicting upon you. “You taste like fucking heaven.” He purred. At that point he was twisting the knife further in the wound.

“I hate you so much right now.” You sighed in agony, defeated. You released your grip on his cock and ran your hands over your face. This felt like your own personal hell.

“You love it.” he said smugly.

As much as you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you were actually enjoying this, it was far too late for that. He was keeping you on edge for so long, denying the thing you so desperately ached for. But in the heat of the throws of passion, you were enjoying yourself. Yet again, he wasn’t wrong. There was an obvious pattern forming here. Your body was shaking at how badly you wanted to come, how close you were. Is it even possible to be this turned on?! Clearly, the answer was yes. But the real question was, when would he give you what you wanted? It surely wasn’t right now.

As you lay there pondering all of these questions, he moved onto his knees and placed himself in-between your legs. You could clearly see that your handjob did the trick -- he was leaking like a faucet about ready to burst. You were sure that Austin couldn’t contain himself for much longer either. The two of you were thoroughly enjoying this cat and mouse game.

He took hold of his cock with one hand and teasingly rubbed the tip through your slick folds, punctuating your clit with a few brisk taps. The moan that fell from your lips was almost blood curdling. He was so close yet so far from being done with you.

“Look at you, so strung out for my cock.”

As you writhed on the bed, clutching the bedsheets for purchase, he trailed hot kisses from your navel all the way up to your neck. Each and every touch of his mouth on your body reignites the already blazing inferno within you. His final destination lands him at your ear, where he takes your earlobe between his lips and gives a little nibble.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont even remember your own goddamn name.” You shiver at his hot words. He doesn’t let up on rubbing his cock against your pussy, he’s just getting started. “But first things first...”

Before you had time to react, he had his other hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t hard enough to choke you, but it was firm.

“What’s my name?” He growled.

Instinctively his name falls from your lips. “Aus-” but before you can finish, he applies more pressure to your neck, halting the air from entering your lungs.

“Wrong answer. Try again, darlin’.” The previous times you and Austin explored a more dominant and submissive role in the bedroom, you remembered the conversation where he specifically requested that you don’t refer to him by his name. He wanted a title. He liked exploring this illustrious form of power play with you, but obviously he would never take it to far extremes. Suddenly, the correct answer sprang back into your memory.

“Sir.”

He flashed a crooked grin. “Atta girl”. As he released your neck from his grip, he got himself situated in the right position. He hovered over you, leaning his weight onto his forearm propped up by your head. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, you knew what was coming and your walls immediately clenched.

Austin took hold of his cock and aligned himself perfectly with your weeping entrance. His brow furrowed, his jaw slack as he pushed the tip inside of you. The pair of you moaning loudly at the intense feeling of pleasure cascading over your bodies. And then slowly but surely, he filled you up completely to the brim. Your tight pussy eagerly swallowed him whole, taking every single delicious inch of his massive cock.

There was a look in his eyes of pure ecstasy, of your dripping wet walls enveloping him to the hilt. The wild desire was evident on his face, but also he couldn’t hold back the unbridled love he had for you. He cherished the way your pussy enveloped him every single time he took you.

He didn’t give you too much time to adjust to his size. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan you roared from the depths of your soul when Austin started slamming his cock into. Tonight was not a night for soft niceties. This was about burning, aching, primal fucking. His breath was hot on your face, never once looking away from how your beautiful features contorted with intense pleasure.

“Oh F-Fuuuck!” You sobbed, head thrown back. Your nails dug into his biceps, trying to ground yourself in any possible way. He was fucking you so raw but so good. The feeling of your walls accommodating his girth was sinful for both of you.

“That’s it baby, take my cock.” He groaned. Austin was pounding into you, unrelenting. He kept a rhythmic and steady pace, your juices coating him like a warm blanket and letting him back in every time he thrust into you.

Getting lost in the overwhelming feeling of you, Austin captured your lips in a zealous kiss. His tongue working against yours, exploring the crevices of your mouth. He cupped your face. and your hand tangled through his hair. He pined for your release, expertly working your pussy in a way that only he can do.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, trapping him even closer to you, pushing him deeper into the expanse of your heat. Austin suddenly pulled away from your flushed lips and sat back on his heels, grabbing hold of your hips as he elevated your ass off of the bed to meet his cock, snapping into you at a furious speed.

This new angle had you spiraling, his cock was ramming into that sweet spot deep inside your pussy in a brand new way that had you gushing around him, gasping for air. Your tight walls giving him an encouraging squeeze.

“Oh my god! Yes! Just like that.” you scream. The pleasure was forming with tenacity in your stomach. If you felt like you were floating only moments ago, then you were sure that your soul was leaving your body at this very moment. As he was riding you hard into the mattress you admired how drop-dead sexy he was. You studied this adonis of a man fucking the life out of you -- sweat was dripping down his furrowed brow, blonde tendrils fell down the slope of his forehead, his plush lip sucked into his teeth. You felt tipsy on his visceral sexuality as his throbbing length macerated the juices in your pussy. It was absolutely dirty.

You were sure that all of New York City could hear you two caught up in the feeling of each other's bodies. But you didn’t give a damn.

Austin knew all too well that he would be on the brink to spilling into you if he didn’t control himself. So he flipped the switch yet again. He quickly pulled out of you, suddenly leaving you missing the feel of him.

“Get on your knees. Face down, ass up. Now.” He said hard and fast, he needed to be back inside you as quickly as possible. Austin guided you along as his hands smoothly flipped you over onto your stomach. Your face was buried in the pillow, your arms tucked in by your side and your ass high in the air on full display for him, just like he wanted. You were a good listener when you wanted to be.

He couldn’t help but smack your voluptuous ass before he took hold of his cock again, running the tip over your slit, before bottoming out in your pussy in one fluid motion. You both moaned at the sudden intrusion and his thick cock back where it belonged. You were truly dickmatized.

He tightly clutched your hips as he brutally fucked you. Somehow his dick reached the depths of your pussy that you never even knew needed his upmost attention. Eagerly, you matched his his thrusts, slamming your hips back against him. This earned you a deep groan from him.

“Goddamn, such a good girl riding my rock...”

Your strangled moans were trapped between the pillow, your knuckles went white from keeping a vice grip onto the bed sheets. If he kept this up you knew you were on your way to your third impending orgasm. You just simply couldn’t get enough of him. He filled you wholly in the most naughty way, knowing exactly how to hit your g-spot every single time. It got all too much for you to bear, and tears sprang to your eyes threatening to spill over. Your senses were on fire, overstimulated by everything this man had to give you.

Somehow reading your mind, Austin balled your hair in his fist, making a makeshift ponytail, and pulled, jerking your head back towards him. You gasped for air as you finally could breathe properly without the pillow suffocating you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” he groaned.

“You. F-Fuck, it belongs to you. My pussy is yours, Sir.”

“That’s right baby. It’s mine. All mine...”

Thrust.

“All mine.”

Thrust.

“Mine.” He snarled like a ferocious animal marking their territory. Your pussy was like the most addictive drug. He shuddered at how greedily your walls were milking his cock. He could have you like this for the rest of eternity.

He let his tongue lick a hot stripe up the side of your neck before releasing your hair from his grip, your head falling forward like a ragdoll completely at his whim. As you turned your head to allow yourself to watch Austin railing your pussy, you bounced yourself back against his cock.

The waves of pleasure were starting to roll stronger with each stroke. You hoped that you had acted like his good girl - no, his best girl, to get rewarded. One solitary tear fell down your cheek, his cock was expertly sending you to the path of no return.

“Please...I-I can’t...I’m so close”. You pleaded with strangled moans. In all honesty, he was dangerously close too. He sputtered inside of you, his fingers digging even harder into your flesh.

“I know, baby”. He mused. As much as he loves tormenting you, keeping you at the precipice, he desperately yearns for both of your releases. He needs to feel you explode on his cock, your wetness spilling out onto him. And he needed to paint your walls with his come.

His thrusts became sloppy, his hips snapping with a violent force, grazing your cervix in a deliciously painful way. Austin would at long last give you what you craved. In a devastating finishing move, he took two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them generously with his spit, and strummed your clit with determined ferocity.

“You wanna come, baby?”

You screamed at the sudden contact to your throbbing clit. “Y-yes!! Please, sir, please let me come...”. You were hell-bent on coming if it was the last thing you’d do. As he was playing with your clit you bounced yourself harder on his cock, trying to coax both of your climaxes.

“Do it. Now. Come all over my cock.” He howled through his clenched jaw.

Finally, you saw the finish line that was so far out of your reach the entire night. You let out a string of strangled crying moans, forcefully coming all over him. Your walls fluttered around him, engulfing his cock with your wetness. You came so hard you swear that you practically squirted. Your vison went white and you nearly passed out from the magnanimous orgasm he gave you. And he was in heaven. Watching you come undone was his kryptonite.

“God, Y/N! I’m gonna fucking come...” He roared loudly, head thrown back in bliss.

Mustering the last bit of strength you have in you, you coo to him seductively.

“Fill me up, Austin. Come inside me.”

And with that, he chases his orgasm right after you, snapping his hips one final time and coming so hard he sees stars. He groans an enchanting mix of profanities and your name until he collapses on top of you, unable to hold himself up anymore. He was dead weight, but the feeling of his body brought you a sense of comfort.

You both lay there for a while, a pile of sweaty limbs entangled on the bed, until he musters up some strength to lift himself off of you. Austin takes hold of his cock and slowly pulls out, watching his come seep out of you. He gathers what he can and pushes it back in, wanting every part of him to stay trapped inside your pussy for as long as possible. You moan at the intrusion from his fingers.

This was surely the most intense sexcapade you two have had to date. How the hell can sex with Austin keep being so fucking mindblowing?! This was one for the books. You sighed at the loss from his cock, your empty pussy still craving him inside of you. But you knew that you’d be feeling helplessly sore for days to come.

Austin rolls over to his back, running his hands through his hair and trying to catch his breath. Making love to you was the only exercise he ever needed. A massive, stupidly beautiful grin was plastered on his face. The alpha male energy that took over him has now subsided, and the gentle Austin was back.

As you turn over on your side to be drawn back into his loving arms, you rest your head on his chest. He brought your lips to meet his in a tender kiss, marking the end of the best sex you’ve both ever had.

“I didn’t hurt you at all did I? I probably over did it at times. Sorry, baby. You just get me so worked up.” He spoke softly.

“No not at all Aus. Honestly, being manhandled by you is such a turn on.” You nuzzled into him. He chuckled contentedly, placing another chaste kiss on your lips.

“Will keep that in mind for next time.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #ausitn butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x fem!reader #austinbutleredit #austin butler x y/n #austin butler elvis #austin babe-ler #what other tags go here? idk

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floralcyanide · 2 years

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Kinktober Day Six

Degradation - Elvis/ Austin!Elvis

I love degradation ngl so I got projected a little in this,,, oop. anyway, welcome to day 6! I hope everyone is enjoying october and kinktober so far. if you like this part, please reblog and like! it's very much appreciated! <3 (please pay attention to the warnings in this part, some of it is understandably not for everyone or could be triggering.)

pairing: Elvis/ Austin!Elvis x Reader

warnings: smut, spanking, nipple play, choking, degradation, dirty talk, use of derogatory names, hair pulling, unprotected sex, slapping, pussy slapping, uhhh I think that's it lol

word count: 1318

masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE! || kinktober prompt list HERE!

You hate to disappoint people, and you make it a point to fix any wrongs you may have committed. The feeling of rejection or disappointment always bothers you a lot in everyday life. So when Elvis asks if you enjoy being degraded in bed one day, you aren’t sure how to answer. Being belittled isn't fun for you, especially if you mess up. You also aren’t sure if you’re a fan of physical assault, even if it’s consensual. So you say no, for now, anyway. You have to go exploring a little before making a decision. You read up about it and even watch some videos that show degradation, but you still aren't sure how to feel about it. You guess you’ll have to be in the moment to know whether you want it.

You and Elvis have been staying in Vegas for a while due to his career flourishing there. On a particular night, he isn't doing so well mentally and pops off on the Colonel. Elvis finds out he has been scheming and lying to him for a long time. He angrily fires him in front of everyone before storming off upstairs. You’re in the hotel room watching television when Elvis bursts through the door.

“That lying, no good piece of shit,” he fumes, clawing at his jumpsuit to try and remove it.

You get up from the couch quickly, running over to Elvis. Jerry had called a few moments ago from downstairs, giving you the rundown of the situation. He warned you that Elvis would be up any minute and that he was stark mad. You help him shrug off his jumpsuit, and once it’s off, he grabs you by the hair harshly.

“You’re gonna listen to me and do as I say, alright, sweetheart?” Elvis growls, his breath hitting your face.

You nod wordlessly the best you can with Elvis’ fingers gripping your hair. He starts attacking your neck with bites and open-mouthed kisses, all but ripping your shirt off in the process. Elvis guides you to the bed, where he sits on the edge and throws you over his lap.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me take my frustration out on you? I’ll make you feel good, baby,” he says, asking permission to be rough with you. His palm moves down your spine and over the curve of your ass as he awaits your response.

“Whatever you need, babe,” you gulp, a little hesitant but also turned on.

Elvis pulls your pants and underwear down, letting them slide down your legs and onto the floor. He lands a light smack on your right ass cheek, then squeezes it and smoothes out the reddening skin. You lurch forward a bit, and you’re a little shocked at the velocity of the smack, even if it was light. But oddly enough, it feels good. He lands four more slaps to your ass, getting more rough every time. You can feel Elvis hardening against your hip, and your own arousal begins to pool between your thighs.

“You’re such a dirty slut, letting your ass be slapped. I bet you love it, don’t you?” Elvis snarls, slapping your ass as hard as he can without hurting you too badly.

You let out a high-pitched moan, the pain shooting electricity straight to your core. You wiggle in Elvis’ lap, desperate for friction.

“Such a bad kitten. You can’t wait for me to touch you? Get up and get on the bed. Now,” Elvis commands, and you do as he asks.

You lay on the bed, both of you now completely naked once Elvis removes his underwear. He climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists over your head. He leans in close to your face, his lips by your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you like the little slut you are, you hear me?” Elvis whispers, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. And a part of you hopes he does.

“Yes sir,” you say meekly, your eyes innocently gazing into his.

Elvis gently coaxes two fingers inside your already wet pussy, stretching you out at every angle so you can conform to his length easily. His other hand rubs your clit roughly, eliciting a cry from you at the sudden harsh stimulation. It feels so good, even if it’s hard and fast. Judging that you’re stretched out enough for him, Elvis rubs his tip along your folds, gathering the slick and sliding it around your clit before slamming into you. Your body jerks upward at the velocity of him entering you, your back arching when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Elvis starts pounding into you without mercy, his anger bleeding through his movements. He grips your throat with his left hand and keeps your wrists pinned with the other, his body weight pressing into your neck. You feel dizzy, but in a good way.

“Fucking you so good, huh? Taking it like a good little whore, hmm?” Elvis grunts, and your face burns at the derogatory names he’s been calling you tonight. You didn’t think they’d turn you on, but they do.

“Who’s fucked out pussy is this?” he raises his voice at you, slapping your clit hard.

You moan pitifully at the feeling, “Yours.”

Elvis gains speed, his tip barely hitting your cervix as the bed shakes from the rough fucking it’s enduring. Your breasts are bouncing, and he lets go of your throat to pinch at your nipples roughly. He leans down to capture one in his mouth, tugging at the bud with his teeth before letting it go. Tears are streaming down your face from the pain, but it feels so good, and you can’t help but crave more.

“Slap me,” you mutter, almost inaudible from the sound of Elvis’ moans and skin slapping together.

But he hears you, and his eyes soften only a little, “Are you sure, babydoll?”

“I’m sure,” you moan when Elvis hits a specific spot inside you.

He grips your hips, fingers digging hard into your muscle there as he continues to fuck you without slowing down. He rubs your clit for a moment before slapping it again, causing your hips to buck under his grip. Elvis moves his hand up your stomach and past your breasts and neck until he reaches your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, where he leans down to kiss you hungrily. He then pulls back and takes a deep breath before slapping you across the face without hesitation. It isn’t too hard, but hard enough to cause a sting and the skin to redden.

You gasp, “Do it again.”

Elvis slaps you again as he hits your g spot, causing you to cry out.

“Fuck, Elvis,” your hands struggle under Elvis’ grip.

He frees your hands, and you scratch down his back as he takes hold of your hair.

“I’m getting close,” he warns, and you can also feel yourself drawing nearer to orgasm.

“Cum in me,” you growl, meeting your hips to Elvis’ thrusts, sending him deeper inside you.

Elvis doesn’t hesitate before letting himself cum, hot spurts shooting into you as your stomach twists in pleasure. He chokes you again, squeezing the sides of your throat, sending your body into convulsions as your orgasm takes over.

“What a dirty slut cumming around my cock,” Elvis lets you ride out your high on him as he softens.

You relax into the bed, and he pulls out of you. Your hand absentmindedly reaches up to your face, feeling the heat from the slap still there.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Elvis asks, lying beside you with a concerned look.

“No, baby,” you shake your head, “I liked it, actually.”

“Good. Cause I’m gonna be angry at the Colonel for a while,” Elvis rolls his eyes, and you chuckle at him as he wraps his arms around you.

taglist:

@onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @beautyofelvis @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @presleylust @oh-kurva @cece05 @poppet05

@scarlettlight06 @bisexualwvtson

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youaintnothinbuta · 4 months

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Bathroom quickie — austin butler x reader

Summary: you and Austin have somehow worked each other up during your time at the met gala, and as soon as you possibly can, you sneak off into a bathroom for a quickie.

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, explicit, mature language, unprotected sex. Probably some typos

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Austin posed for a photo together while at the Met Gala, his hand behind your back, giving your bum a gentle squeeze.

“Austin, there’s cameras behind us too.” You reminded him. A low, almost inaudible grumble came from his throat in response.

“Need you.” He whispered, trying his best not to break his stare from the cameras flashing at the pair of you. He was half expecting you to shut him down, to tell him to wait til you’re home.

“Need you, too.” You replied, the same barely audible whisper. He shuddered at your response, so desperately trying not to tear you to shreds right then and there. He brought his hand up around your waist, gripping onto you tightly, the pair of you squirmed around, incapable of standing still as you both tried to pose elegantly for the paparazzi. From the outside it must’ve looked tense, maybe like some sort of argument between the two of you.

You and Austin slowly moved up the red carpet, stopping every few steps in front of a new group of photographers. Austin followed behind you as you walked, the people in front of you stopping suddenly, making you press on the breaks abruptly. Austin, whose eyes were focused on the cameras, walked into your back and, god, almost collapsed as he brushed against your ass.

You didn’t know what had come over you, the both of you, but you couldn’t stand this, like the most itchiest itch you couldn’t scratch, you hated feeling this painfully desperate.

“I can’t do this.” You muttered, turning to him.

“Just make it to the end of the carpet.” He replied, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. As you continued along, in a painfully slow manner that felt like it took years to complete, you finally reached the end of the red carpet, where plenty of interviews were happening.

“Bathroom, let’s go.” He placed a hand on your back, gently, guiding you through the people in front of you. You went in first, Austin looking around for a moment to check no one was watching before following you in. The second you heard the click of him locking the door, you practically leapt at him. He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist tightly as he walked you towards the wall. Instantly, you started squirming around in his grip, trying to get any sort of friction you could from him.

“Jesus, fuck.” He breathed out, pinning your fidgeting body between him and the wall.

You let out an accident squeal of desperation, begging him to do anything to you.

“Shh,” he chuckled, getting his thigh in between your legs so you could have something to grind against.

With you propped up against his thigh, he had his hands free to get your dress up around your waist. As he did this, your fingers found the zip of his pants, deftly undoing it.

“Please, baby.” he murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric of his underwear.

“Now, Aus.” You nodded, barely even registering the words he spoke, just desperate for some sort of release. His fingers were already inside your panties, finding your wet slit. Your pussy throbbed at the touch, and you bit your lip as he rubbed circles over your clit.

His now wet fingertips found the hem of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles, his other hand bunching the skirt of your dress up around your torso. Your actions followed his, getting his underwear down, his cock springing free. It was long, thick, and veiny. A small bead of precum glistened at the tip, and you moaned at the sight of it. “Austin, please, I need you.” You whispered, desperately. He chuckled again, rubbing your clit faster as he moved his hips into yours, letting his cock slide passed your slick slit.

Normally he’d wait, give you time to adjust to the feeling of him. This time though, he just couldn’t.

He moved his hips forward, pushing his cock inside of you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer to him.

He kissed you, roughly, his tongue exploring your mouth as he began to move inside of you. He was thrusting into you with a primal urgency. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you.

He broke the kiss, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin as he continued to fuck you. You were lost in the feeling of him inside of you. The pleasure was intense, and it was building quickly. His thumb worked on your clit, rubbing quick circles over you. You whimpered, almost crying with pleasure.

He was grunting with each thrust, his body tensing as he neared his climax. You could feel him begin to throb inside of you, and you knew that he was about to cum.

“Shh,” he hushed you gently, reminding you that this was neither the right time nor place for him to be fucking you.

“I'm going to come,” he said, his voice rough with desire, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside me,” you said, your voice a breathless whisper.

“You gotta come with me, honey, yeah? Can you do that for me?” He asked, practically panting.

“Y-yes, fuck.” You mumbled, with him getting rougher. He momentarily took his thumb off your clit, and dipped it in his mouth, coating it with his saliva. He brought it back to your clit, the extra wetness sending a tingling feeling up your spine. You choked back your moans, if you were anywhere else you'd be screaming his name.

His thrusts became more erratic, and as you felt your orgasm approaching, you hung on even tighter to his neck. With the way you were clinging to him, the way you were biting your lip to keep the sound suppressed, he knew you were about to come. His own orgasm was close too, and he wanted to come with you. He thrust into you hard, hitting your g spot, and you screamed into his shoulder, your orgasm washing over you, as you trembled on his cock. At the same time, he groaned, pulling you as close as he could to himself, his cock twitched inside of you as he came.

His orgasm was intense, and he felt like he was coming for hours. He pulled out of you, you shut your legs to try and stop his cum from running down the inside of your thighs. He leaned over you, his hands either side of your head, on the wall, trying to catch his breath as he redid the fly of his pants. After a moment, he grabbed some tissue paper, cleaning you up as best as he could. “How you feeling, baby?” He asked.

“Good, better.” You replied, pulling your panties back up, catching your breath with him. “Good.” He replied, kissing your forehead as he cupped your face with his hand.

“We should probably go.” He added, helping you stand up straight. “Yeah, we should.” You agreed, still breathing heavily.

He took your hand, letting you walk out the door first. With his head down, he followed you close behind, his hand moving to your lower back as he walked with you, back out, joining the rest of the Elvis cast.

‘I love you.’ Austin mouthed as he held you close by his side.

‘I love you too.’ You mouthed back, he pulled you into his chest briefly, giving you a subtle hug.

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wanderingelvis · 5 months

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Omggg cg!Elvis x littleF!reader who’s sick and keeps slipping into littlespace cuz of how sick she is so he takes care of her despite the possibility of him getting sick? 🥺

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it <3

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 2,135

Pairing: Early 70's CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Oh Lord, you were trying so hard, so so hard to be a big girl.

You knew that Elvis had so much on his schedule, the Colonel was working him and you too by default. You'd been on the road with Elvis, helping out where you could like the good little girlfriend you were, but it had become all a bit too much and you had caught some sort of bug that was making you feel all kinds of miserable.

And when you were ill, well, that was the most sure fire way for you to slip into little space. You just weren't very good at being independent and coping with the overwhelming and horrible feelings you were having.

But you were trying, you really, really were. You didn't want to interfere with the schedule, Elvis had a lot on his mind and you'd be damned to cross paths with the Colonel when there was so much money to be made. Even when you were feeling your best, you still didn't like to even be in the same room as the Colonel.

All morning you'd felt achey, sore and tingly all over with a fever creeping in. Naturally, you'd been quieter than usual, trying to stop yourself from slipping but it was becoming inevitable.

Your body just wasn't strong enough and you felt exhausted and vulnerable as you sat in Elvis' dressing room as he did a run-through of his show tonight.

You'd found a spare blanket and you were curled up in the corner of the large couch as members of staff and the Memphis Mafia alike walked past you, a few giving concerned looks your way, in particular, Red, who watched as you rested your head on your arms and closed your eyes.

See, being in the state that you were in meant that you had absolutely no concept of time and when you were woken from the light slumber you were in, you had no idea how long you'd been asleep for.

"Baby?" That familiar deep, Southern voice hushed, laced with concern as your eyes sleepily opened, staring up at Elvis who was studying your state with worry on his face after Red had told him that you seemed unusually low today.

You blinked adorably up at him and if you weren't so apparently sick, Elvis would do the most unspeakable things to you.

Elvis sighed, realising how wiped and sick you were as he put the back of his coarse hand on your forehead to check your temperature, which was far too high for his liking.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, you felt all achey and sore and your head was just so fuzzy that you were pretty much ready to let tears spill down your cheeks.

And Elvis could tell. He'd been with you for long enough now to know your little space 'tells'. You'd go non-verbal, your eyes would get all big and round and glossy, because even after all this time, you still got nervous about being little in front of Elvis - a fact that Elvis actually thought was very sweet and endearing. You'd start chewing on something too, whether it was your toy stuffy, your lip or your fingers, you'd chew on something as you tried to get all your thoughts in order. And there you were, chewing on your lip as you trembled from the fever.

"Oh little one, you ain't feelin' too good huh?" Elvis cooed, to which you shook your head ever so slightly. "Oh baby. Need me to look after you, princess?" Elvis asked as you pushed yourself up feebly, the blanket pooling by your waist as you nodded and rubbed your eyes sweetly.

Effortlessly, Elvis scooped you up in his big, strong arms and your head automatically went to rest on his shoulder as you began to chew on your fingers anxiously, wanting this horrible feeling to go away.

"Y/N is comin' down with somethin' nasty, I'm gon' take care of her, let everyone know they can go home, I ain't leavin' her today." Elvis said to Jerry before he carried you to his private elevator that took him right to the suite that the two of you shared at the top of the International.

As soon as the doors closed, Elvis began to rock you gently. "Gon' get you undressed baby, take off all yer clothes and get you in the tub, give you some medicine that's gon' make you feel all good n'better then we're gon' get you into bed to rest n' take it easy. How does that sound pretty girl?" Elvis soothed.

You nodded into his shoulder, feeling vulnerable and weak as he held you tightly, you couldn't help but let out a couple of sniffles too.

"Little one, d'ya think you can use your words f'me?" Elvis said. He knew you'd go non-verbal whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and little, and usually he wouldn't push you, but when you were feeling little and sick, he needed to know that you could still understand what he was saying and there wasn't anything more serious that was underlying.

"J-Just, don't feel good Daddy." You whimpered and oh if Elvis' heart hadn't broken in two when he first saw you on that couch, it certainly had now.

The name that you'd just called him was definitive confirmation that you were deep in little space and you needed to be treated as delicately as possible.

"I know baby, I know you don't, Daddy's gon' take care of you." Elvis promised, kissing the top of your head as you got out of the elevator into the suite.

Elvis wasted no time in taking you straight to the bathroom, sitting you atop the bathroom the counter as he rolled up the sleeves on his blue silk shirt, one that you'd actually picked out for him because you thought he would look "extra pretty" in it and began to run the bathtub full of warm water for you. He then went through the bathroom cabinet, through the one that held all of the medicines you may need for any particular reason, before he found the right one for your fever and chills.

"Now, you gotta be a brave girl f'me, I know this don't taste too good baby, but it's gon' help make you better, 'kay?" Elvis said as he poured the medicine onto a spoon, ready to feed you as you watched on, grimacing a bit, you hated having to take medicine.

"I don't wanna..." You practically whispered.

"Darlin', I know it ain't nice, but you gotta take it like a good girl, can you do that fr'me?" Elvis said, his tone becoming a little sterner than before, you taking your medicine is not something he was going to compromise on.

You nodded but not without small tears forming, making Elvis feel quietly guilty, he wished that it was him that was sick, he'd give anything to swap places with you. It really did pain him to see you in this state.

"Okay, open them pretty lips fr'me angel, just like that, good." Elvis encouraged as he fed you the spoon with the medicine.

He used his pointer finger on his other hand to poke just under your jaw ever so slightly to close your mouth around the spoon. "Good." He hissed, nodding in approval at how good you were being.

Slowly, he took the spoon out of your mouth as he studied your face, your eyes staring up at him as your nose scrunched up at the sour tasting medicine.

"Baby, that medicine ain't gon' do a damn thing stuck in your mouth like that." Elvis half-heartedly chuckled, knowing you were being a little too stubborn for your own good. "Swallow." He commanded gently.

And, like the good girl you were, you did just that - although with a grimace on your sweet little face the entire time.

"Good girl." Elvis praised softly, as he began to take off your clothes for your bath.

You watched as his coarse, ring-clad hands traced your skin, causing shivers to travel through your already sensitive skin. Elvis hushed you reassuringly, saying sweet nothings to reassure you that you were okay, that he was your Daddy and he was going to make you better, and you believed him.

After you were fully undressed and after Elvis checked the water temperature, Elvis helped you into the tub where you instantly loved the sensation of the hot water on your shivering skin.

"Does my little girl like that?" Elvis smiled warmly as he watched you smile for the first time today, even if it was only a small one.

You nodded as you brought your knees to your chest to rest your head on your knees, your head tilted so you could watch your Daddy.

Elvis grabbed a loofah and took to gently washing you, getting you all soapy and lathered up in the suds as he watched you practically preen in delight at his touch.

"Bein' such a good girl fr' Daddy, ain'tcha?" Elvis soothed.

"Yes Daddy." You said sweetly, your eyes closed in bliss as Elvis continued to wash you all over.

"That's right, that's my girl." Elvis praised as he held out one of your arms to wash it, as if you were some sort of a doll for him to move as he pleased. You were so malleable and so sweet and Elvis loved nothing more than to take care of you.

When Elvis was done washing you, he scooped you up out of the tub and wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, holding you tightly and peppering you in kisses, eliciting a few soft giggles from you.

He knew you were feeling little, you were so overwhelmed and he knew the last week had taken it's toll on you. You were a little people pleaser, so much so, that you'd taken on much more than sweet, little you could manage. You would comply to anyones request and you'd caused yourself to become burnt out and Elvis couldn't help but feel responsible for not stepping in sooner - even if he knew that if he had stepped in, you would've begged him to let you help out as much as possible because you were just a little angel sent from heaven. Elvis quickly got you dressed into your favourite pyjamas that you wore when you were feeling little. They had cartoon horses on them and you'd adorably named each one, one morning whilst Elvis was reading his paper and drinking his morning coffee.

He took special care as he dressed you, mindful that your body was still tender and sore.

As Elvis led you to your bed, you began to feel all drowsy and achey again, making you extra clingy and needy with Elvis, but he secretly didn't mind.

Elvis tucked you up in bed and placed your stuffed bunny in your little grasp, smoothing back your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

After placing a kiss atop of your head, Elvis began to make his way from the bedroom to let you sleep before he heard a whine come from your lips.

"Oh honey, what's the matter?" Elvis cooed, making his way back to the bed before you reached out your arms wide and made grabby hands at Elvis, making him chuckle ever so.

"Daddy, stay," You whimpered. You were not in any fit state to not be close to Elvis. "Don't go, need you." You mumbled cutely.

Elvis smirked as he began to remove his shoes and get atop the bed, next to you, placing one arm across the pillows where your head rested so that you were able to slot into his side and snuggle into him as you clasped onto your stuffed bunny too.

"I ain't goin' anywhere baby, now rest your eyes honey, you need to get your strength back little one." Elvis instructed, his fingers running through your hair, sending shivers through you as you let your eyes close.

Elvis continued to play with your hair as he reached over to his bed-side table with his other hand and grab the telephone.

"Jer? Yeah, Jer, tell the Colonel to tell whoever needs to know that the show ain't happenin' tonight, reschedule, cancel, I don't care. I gotta take care of Y/N, ain't no way I'm leavin' her tonight, not in the state she's in. Okay. Thanks Jer." Elvis said into the receiver before putting it down again.

You couldn't help but feel bad as you nestled into Elvis' side. "Daddy?" You said meekly.

"Yes baby?"

"You don't got to cancel your show Daddy." You said softly, your big eyes looking up at his blue ones.

"Little one, I ain't ever wanna do a show if you ain't in the crowd." Elvis said firmly and you knew he wasn't going to budge on the matter - and with that you drifted off in the arms of your Daddy.

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