#70s Austin Elvis just does it for me I don't know why | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elvisabutler · 8 months

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fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 2100 you didn't see any other word count. warnings: cockwarming! p in v sex ( unprotected ). public play. mildly excessive baby talk. use of buntyn and nungen and princess as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with big daddy elvis presley x reader. sorry this took a minute, i've been incredibly exhausted lately and so it's made finishing things a bit of an adventure. quick notes for this fic, this is a sort of au, in that i placed it in a mythical place where elvis doesn't die in 77 and is free of his vegas residency in the 70s. so maybe call it a nebulous 78 to 80? reader is implied to have been with him for years and you can read it as having an age difference but it's in my head as not having one. basically this is secretly a reader version of quiet on the set's future and i'm not sorry for it. beyond that if y'all have left me a comment on any of my fics or anything i'm going to get back to them. when i tell you i've been exhausted it's been a lot. without further ado, i hope y'all like this. also pick if you want austin elvis or real elvis the end.

There's something funny about how Elvis would prefer the two of you to be private. There is something truly and genuinely hilarious to you about the fact that he preferred the two of you to be private. His argument has always been that the happiest he ever is in his life is during those private moments with the people he loves. You always argue that he can't show you off like you know he wants to if you're being private and yet he'll flash that little twinkle in his eye and ignore your protests. So much of his life isn't private but the love he has for you— the love between the two of you is supposed to be private. An oasis for him to relax in as much as he does in Hawai‘i.

Despite all of this you know so very well how much he cares for you and how much he loves you. And if you were being entirely honest, the privacy makes the times he does want to show you off all the more special. Indeed it makes the times he does feel like delightful surprises.

Maybe that's why you had agreed to come play poker with him and the boys. It's been a long time since you've enjoyed that sort of thing and you've missed it. Truthfully it's been a while since Elvis has even been in Vegas, memories of how he almost was stuck in a revolving door of engagements here cluttering his mind and giving him a nightmare or two. So having him enjoying time with friends and you seems like a perfect recipe for a night. Of course, you should know better by now, know how Elvis always has something up his sleeve. A playful little trick he can play with that glint in his eye.

"Where's my chair, Mr. Presley?" You ask, not bothering with his nickname or his first name. There always was something fun about how he acted a bit like an admonished schoolboy when you called him Mr. Presley. "Can't very well play poker if I don't have a chair."

Elvis looks at you and gives you that sly smile you know so very well by now as he pats his lap, thigh jiggling just a tad as he does. There's that glint in his eyes that spells trouble of the best and worst kind. "Ya got a chair right here, Princess. Nice 'n plush too."

You'd think after all these years and after seeing his body through so many changes that you wouldn't be affected by the jiggle of his thigh and the open v of his legs. Yet, you're a woman who knows what she wants and you're the woman he put a ring on all those years ago. Most of the things he does get you more hot under the collar than they have any right to. This is one of those things. You feel your pussy clench around nothing and despite yourself you rub your thighs together even as you're standing.

"Are we playing as a team, then? Us against the boys?" The questions roll off your lips with an ease and familiarity only you manage when it comes to him. "Otherwise I think you'd be able to cheat."

As you speak, you've started to walk closer to him and finally find yourself at arm's length. Elvis wastes no time in grabbing your arm and pulling you flush against his lap, his thighs cushioning your behind and his cock stirring ever so slightly under his stomach. A gasp leaves your lips unexpectedly.

His arm wraps around your waist, making sure you don't move too much while he talks. "My wife accusin' me of cheatin' at cards. I could take ya thinkin' I'd step out on ya but I would never cheat at poker."

The soft rumble of a laugh courses through your body and has you following suit as you shift in his lap. "I let you step out and you let me as a present. But I know you're a sore loser who can't focus when I'm here."

You turn your head just slightly, watching as Elvis's eyes practically dance with mirth. He's mercurial as all get out when he wants to be but he can take some good-natured teasing when it comes from you. It's why you've worked well all these years.

"Now honey, my yittle nungen, I know you're still smartin' from that game ya lost against me 'bout a week ago but that ain't no reason to be tellin' lies about my sportsmanship."

A defense is on the tip of your tongue when you feel Elvis's warm hand against your thigh, slipping under your dress that you decided to wear today. That warmth does away with the words in such a quick fashion that you find yourself biting your lip to keep from sighing. "Elvis."

You say his name in a feather soft whisper as his friends start to trickle into the room. You've been in a situation like this before, when you were younger and somehow just as randy as you were now but Elvis hadn't done something like this in ages. He hadn't even thought to tease you like this in ages.

As if he isn't paying attention, he merely hums at your whisper of his name and uses his arm to maneuver your crotch against his cock, the flowing fabric of your dress hiding his actions from prying eyes. You don't know when or how he managed to free his cock from the confines of his pants and yet he has. That hand that innocently is burning against your thigh has crept up to your panties and with the ease of someone who knows your body like the back of their hand, he moves them just enough to the side to slide inside of you.

"Goddamn. Didn't expect ya to be so wet. Was hopin' but— Lord almighty, ya gonna stain my pants if ya move." Ironically you choose just that moment to move, attempting to get off of him for a moment before his grip on your waist stops you. "Nungen, you be a good girl for yer Buntyn and stay put. Can't have 'em seein' Lil Elvis, now can we?"

You feel the heat of mild embarrassment and excitement flush through your body as a shiver racks it. A shake of your head is the only answer you can manage for a moment. "You want me to sit like this for the whole game, baby?"

Elvis nuzzles his lips against your neck, his eyes taking in his friends pulling out their seats and sitting down, none the wiser to what was happening in his lap. They wave at you and you, ever the courteous host wave back and even smile, saying hello as Elvis mumbles words into your neck. He doesn't need to greet everyone, not while he's buried inside of you, his cock leaking precum like he's ready to fuck you on the table instead of just letting you sit on his cock. Besides, they know better than to disturb him when the two of you are wrapped up in one another.

The chair isn't close enough to the table and you move to drag it a little closer, or drag both you and Elvis a little closer only to have what feels like the world's loudest squelch come from between your thighs. No one looks at the pair of you as if they heard it but to Elvis and you it might as well have been a shout. You let out a shaky breath as you shift to try and make yourself comfortable. Elvis's legs open up just a bit more to make sure you're where you need to be, even as he thrusts just a tad. "Gotta stay still. Gonna, if ya move— I might just take ya on this table, damn the game."

You can't help but swallow at the idea, your mouth filling with saliva at the mere idea of being flipped thrown onto the table, pussy exposed to people you and him call friends. It's primal and practically voyeuristic and the sort of thing both you and Elvis aren't incredibly fond of with your relationship and yet. Yet it fills you with such arousal you feel it actually dampening his pants as the game starts.

Elvis isn't the worst of poker players but in combination with you, he's nigh unstoppable. Of course, maybe that's because everyone else's eyes are on you, wondering why you haven't moved to the empty chair next to Elvis. Jerry— who's there on a surprise visit is closest to the two of you and raises an eyebrow as he looks at his cards and then at you. You clench around Elvis's cock in a bit of worry.

"Is it a little warm in here?" A simple question to everyone but from the way he's staring both of you down it's not meant to be one. Both you and Elvis open your mouth before you kiss Elvis to stop whatever one liner is about to leave his lips.

"With how cold he keeps it in here? The only reason I don't need a jacket is because of his body heat," you practically titter out a laugh, the fear of being caught heightening your arousal even further. You feel your clit throbbing as everyone laughs at your joke.

Jerry rolls his eyes and shakes his head looking down at your lap. Still, the game is going nicely, with Elvis winning more hands than not and you trying to grab at a free hand to get some form of relief. After what feels like an eternity Elvis finally has his hand move between your legs, his calloused fingers brushing up against your aching little clit.

"Haven't teased ya like this in years, have I, Princess?" Elvis murmurs against your ear, feeling your vagina clench around him. "Haven't shown everyone how good ya are for me for a long time, have I? Haven't made 'em realize why I couldn't forget 'bout ya."

Your answer is a hum caused by you biting your lip to keep the cry that threatens to escape your lips at the pressure of his fingers against you. It's not enough for Elvis though, he knows you can control yourself better than he ever can. "Darlin' use ya words."

"It's been too long," you choke out the words, one of your hands moving to grip his meaty thigh and the other to grip at the table. You can feel your walls fluttering around Elvis, feel your body tensing up as it chasing something you know he won't give you in public. The face you make when he pulls an orgasm from you is one that's strictly between the two of you. Yet you're so wound up that you fear you'll be leaning over the table for support as soon as he says the word. In an attempt to alleviate something, anything you try and bounce only to have him nip at your ear.

"Ask me nicely, Nungen. Ask me nicely. Give 'em their game and their show. Remind 'em I caught ya jus' the same as ya caught me." His voice is more of a grunt as he slides a set of chips into the pot wordlessly. "Show 'em what I get in bed every night. What 'm wakin' up to every night 'less ya let me stray. Show 'em what I see after I've eaten my dessert.

Despite the way you're biting your lips so hard they're practically bleeding a noise that sounds like a scream forces its way out of your lungs and mouth as you clench around Elvis. You feel a gush that you only identify with times you've been played with so much by Elvis that you make a mess of every sheet you have. His pants are ruined but they'd be anyway from how you feel a warm rush of his cum follow yours. Through the grace of God himself you don't fall onto the table, instead stabilizing yourself using Elvis's thigh and somehow his lap in general. Your breath takes a few minutes to even out, even as everyone watches you and Elvis panting as if you've run a marathon. There's a knowing look that crosses everyone's face but everyone is too scared to speak until finally you smile and smooth out your dress as if you plan on standing up.

"This is why you're losing boys, you can't pay attention the game."

You make no effort to get off of Elvis's lap.

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7 @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i'm missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it's a mess.

#elvis presley #ally writes #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #big daddy elvis #ally's wet hot smut summer #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley smut #austin elvis smut #austin elvis x reader

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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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