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memphisflash · 21 days

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐰

⊱ word count: 3,9K

⊱ warnings: dead dove do not eat!, stepbrother!elvis, stepsister!reader, reader hates elvis but honestly... not really, reader is a virgin but not completely clueless, ages are not mentioned but i figured reader is somewhere around 17/18 and elvis 21/22ish, very dom!elvis, non-con/dubious consent, strong language, pwp, smut; semi-public, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m. receiving), forced deep throating, first time penetration, reader bleeding on elvis as he breaks her hymen, he pretty much splits her open OKAY, creampie, crying during sex. MDNI!!!

⊱ authors note: it's kinda short bc i wrote it in like an hour- i was too excited, lol. proof read it once bc the more i read it, the more i hate it, ANYWAYSSS. i probably missed a few triggers here or there, so if i did, let me know! my first darker fic, but knowing how much y'all love the feral stuff, i'm sure it's considered tame to some. ha! anyways hope y'all like, and don't forget to interact- i love reading what you guys think!! <333

⊱ dead dove masterlist | main masterlist

If there was one person you hated the most in the world, it had to be Elvis Presley.

You didn’t even have a good reason for it, you just did. Couldn’t stand the sight of him – that stupid crooked grin that tugged at his lips, which looked way too soft by the way, and had all your girlfriends swooning over. Those eyes that were oh so blue and able to turn a shade darker whenever he was moody. The way he knew how to push your buttons.

Every single time.

He was capable of making your blood crawl, getting you so annoyed and angry at some points where all you wanted to do was cry. You never did, though. Couldn’t let him catch you spilling tears over him because he’d never let you live it down.

Long story short: you cursed the day your mother married his father.

Vernon was a nice man and your mother genuinely seemed happy with Mr. Presley, which is what you still called him despite his protests. And you were a good girl, the perfect daughter – you weren’t going to get in between your mother and Elvis’ father just because you despised the Presley boy.

You were just going to bite your tongue and suck it up… even on this damn road trip that your mother and stepfather deemed the perfect opportunity for the family to bond.

You hated Route 66 for existing. Crossing eight states and three time zones on the backseat with Elvis? Your own personal hell.

“Stop hoggin’ the damn blanket.” Elvis hissed at you as he tugs on the fleece blanket you had draped over your body, while flipping through one of the dozen magazines you either brought from home or bought at the last gas station.

The sun had set a little while ago and you lost interest in the barely able to see view. The only thing you knew was that you were in Missouri, the second state. Six more to go.

“It’s my blanket. I told you to get yours out of the trunk.” You snap back at him, though keeping your voice low as you’d noticed your mother drifting off to sleep in the passenger seat in front of you.

Elvis rolls his eyes and tugs on the blanket a little harder, succeeding in stealing most of it and exposing your bare legs. Before you had the chance to protest, he was scooting a little closer and draping the fluffy blanket over the both of you.

“Where’s the fun in usin’ my own?” He smirks as he pulls it up so it was covering the both of you up until your shoulders, causing your magazine to crumble under the fabric. You scoffed in annoyance and glared at him, blue eyes holding a mischievous gleam in them as they looked up at you, your stepbrother having put his chin on your shoulder.

“Ugh, get off of me, Elvis.” You groaned softly, lifting your shoulder which forces him to pull back a little. You wanted to scoot away from, because why does his cologne smell so good?!, but you couldn’t. Trapped between the car door and his larger frame, you had absolutely nowhere to go.

And Elvis only intensified the sense of being trapped by sliding his arm around your waist under the blanket, pulling you in his side. Grin plastered on his face, he didn’t break eye contact once.

“I’m bored, sis.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“Yes, you are,” He whispers lowly as he grips onto your hip, squeezing it firmly as he leans in a little closer. “Our parents are married, remember? That makes me your brother. Older brother, in case ya forget.”

Your heart skipped a beat, breath hitching in your throat. You hated him, you hated him, you hated him… but then why did it feel so good to have him this close to you?

And oh so dangerous. So damn dangerous.

“Your father is r-right there, Elvis,” you whisper as your eyes shift to Vernon, who had his eyes on the dark road ahead, fingertips softly tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that was softly playing on the radio.

Elvis chuckled softly, as if to say he didn’t care. And he didn’t. The blanket was covering the both of you completely and it was too dark inside the car to see what was going on. He knew for sure his father wouldn’t take his eyes off of the road.

“All the more reason to keep quiet.” He simply says and you didn’t expect his next move as he slips his hand in the pyjama shorts you’d put on in the toilet of the last gas stop. He didn’t waste any time, obviously eager to get his hands on you, as his hand had slipped right in your panties at the same time.

Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn’t. But it had you gasping softly, the magazine which had been clenching in your hands dropping to the floor.

“Elvis, n-no,” You grab his wrist when you feel his fingertips sliding down your slit, parting your lips for him so he could feel if you were wet or not.

You were, but definitely not enough to get fingered on the backseat of your parents’ car.

He pulls his hand out of your shorts and out from underneath the blanket, holding his fingers in front of your mouth. “Make ‘em wet.”

You look at him, eyes widening as your cheeks flush. Your eyes shift over to Vernon again, who wasn’t suspecting a thing, but your paranoia was growing. Shaking your head at the older male next to you, you keep your lips firmly shut.

“Lick my fingers or I’ll move this blanket away. Now, Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion. It sounded a god awful lot like an order.

Scared that he would actually follow up on his threat, you slowly part your lips as you look at him, a warmth spreading throughout your belly as you wrapped your lips around his digits and suck on them. He grins as he presses them against your tongue a little, before the wet muscle swirls around his fingers for a few seconds.

He’s quick to restract his fingers out of your mouth and move his hand under the blanket again, slipping into your shorts and panties once more. He raises an eyebrow as he glides his fingers down your slit, opening you up again and feeling you’d grown a little more wet.

The way his fingers were exploring you so shamelessly yet so sneakily in the enclosed space of the family car had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from growing wetter and wetter.

You were aware of how wrong this was, yet you did absolutely nothing to stop it. And neither did Elvis – if anything, he seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly.

“You like this?” He whispers as he looks at you, grinning smugly at the way you’re trying to keep your face neutral, lips pressed firmly into a thin line, brows slightly frowned. “Havin’ your brother feel you up in the backseat?”

You huff out a little sigh of air, trying to clamp your thighs together but every time he feels you’re doing it, he pinches your thigh until his other hand finds home on your left thigh, keeping your legs spread enough for his liking. “You’re n-not.. my.. b-brother..”

He laughs softly, making sure his father doesn’t hear it and tilts his head a little as he looks at you. Without warning, he slips his middle finger inside of your cunt, making you let out a quiet gasp. You clench around him instantly, and he smirks. “I think I am. Nah, I know I am and so do you, honey.”

Your eyes nearly roll back at the pet name and you truly hate yourself for being this weak. For liking this, having his finger push into you knuckle deep.

You couldn’t answer him as he started pumping his digit into you, movements still somewhat restricted because of your shorts. But that didn’t bother nor stop him for a second.

As if your body had a mind on its own, you were pulling your legs up a little, feet pressed against the edge of the seat. Clawing at his arm, not knowing if it was to get him to stop or to just have something to hold onto it. You didn’t know, didn’t know anything anymore as your brain was growing fuzzy.

You weren’t all that experienced when it came to sex – only ever having been felt up by a boy you liked during summer vacation last year and he didn’t exactly put it inside you.

Neither his finger, or his cock.

The only thing that’s ever been inside of you had been your own finger and even your own slender digit had been a stretch, not able to fit fully. You were a virgin and here you were, getting fingered by your brother. Stepbrother, you forcefully reminded yourself.

Your virginity was not something you were planning to tell Elvis about – he’d tease the hell out of you for it. At least, that’s what you thought he would do. Either way, you weren’t going to say anything.

His finger stretching you open wider than you’d experienced before was just something you were going to soldier yourself through.

“So goddamn tight,” Elvis grunted lowly next to you, allowing you to hide your face in his chest a little, making it seem as if you were catching up on some sleep. “Think ya can take ‘nother finger?”

No. Definitely not.

“Y-Yes..” You muffle in his chest, biting down on the fabric of his shirt as he shoves his ring finger inside of you as well, making your eyes roll back.

God, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Allowing this to happen. If Vernon decided to look through the rearview mirror or your mother woke up, the both of you would be disowned.

Surely.

You didn’t have much time to worry about it though, because the slight sting of Elvis’ fingers stretching you out has you softly panting in his chest. You were clenching around him visciously so and it has him cursing under his breath.

Neither of you were paying attention to anything else, but as the car pulled up into a parking lot just as the sting was disappearing and you were relaxing a little more around Elvis’ fingers, the two of you were rudely interrupted by a neon light shining into the car as Vernon parked under it.

Elvis moves quick – pulling his fingers out of you and out of your clothing, he creates more space between the two of you and gives you most of the blanket to cover yourself with. He looks at you as he smirks, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of the digits, shooting you a wink as Vernon announces this is the motel they’d be staying at for the night.

If your cheeks weren’t flushed already, they deepened in shade even further and the image of him licking his fingers clean stayed imprinted on your brain as you got out of the car and your parents booked the rooms.

As if God was playing an awful joke on you, Vernon and your mother decided you and Elvis could share a hotel room together.

“To bond. I’m sick of you two fighting.”

Those had been your mother’s exact words – if only she knew what had happened between the two of you when she was sleeping in the passenger seat.

You should’ve known that being alone in a motel room with your stepbrother wasn’t going grant you the privilege of sleep.

Having never seen a cock in your life, other than from seeing it in pictures and getting a general description of it from your girlfriends, you had nothing to compare it to.

But the one that belonged to Elvis was pretty.

Big too, which scared the hell out of you, but you figured as long as you’d keep playing with it with your hands and mouth, he wouldn’t be in a rush to take things a step further.

Laying completely naked on your stomach in between Elvis’ legs, because he’d pretty much tore your clothes off of you as soon as the door closed behind you, your little jerk off session was interrupted by his own hand wrapping around his girth. He looks down at you with a little smirk on his face, guiding his tip across your lips.

You were nervous and turned on at the same time. Nervous because you were afraid you weren’t going to be good at this, but your lips parted nonetheless. Looking up at him, you liked seeing his reaction when your tongue hesitantly licked at the soft skin of his tip when he pulled his foreskin down – gasping softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

He keeps his hand wrapped around himself until you wrap your lips around his tip, frowning a little at the foreign taste of his precum on your tongue but you forced yourself to continue. You squeezed your eyes shut as you concetrated on the task of taking him in deeper, immediately gagging as he took his hand away and you felt his tip caressing the back of your throat.

As soon as you went to pull back, he placed a hand on the back of your head and looks down at you with a teasing, nearly mean, chuckle when he saw your eyes shooting open and widening. “Keep goin’, sis.”

You whine around his cock as his fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you right where you were, and your throat spasms frantically as he keeps you pushed down, not allowing you to move. Tears blurred your vision as they formed on your lash line, unable to stop yourself from gagging.

You couldn’t breathe.

He was choking you with his cock.

Panic settles in your chest and you place your hands on his thighs, trying to push yourself off and create distance, but his grip was stronger. And he wasn’t letting up.

“Breathe,” he cooes, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet but you didn’t miss the taunting tone in it. “Through y’er little nose. Breathe.”

You try to do as he says and he watches you struggle for a little while, the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks and your flushed cheeks making his cock twitch on your tongue. But he decides to go at least a little easy on you and tugs on your hair, pulling you off of his cock.

You immediately gasp desperately for air, a string of saliva connected from your tongue to his cock. You looked at him through the tears, your head tilted back because he was still tugging on your hair.

“Look at that, droolin’ all over my cock.” He smirks as he watches you lick your glistening, swollen lips.

You were even more wet than you were in the car. So damn wet. Rubbing your thighs together to create some kind of friction, you barely recognized yourself as you realised you were actually liking this.

“A-Again..”

“Again?” Elvis raises an eyebrow, letting out a laugh. You nodded, not caring about how eager you seemed.

He slowly lets go of your hair and with a shit eating grin on his face, he puts his arms under his head and gets comfortable against the pillows. “Be my guest.”

It was truly pathetic how fast you’d taken his cock back in your mouth, slobbering all over it like a bitch in heat. But you were so horny that you couldn’t get yourself to stop, even if you wanted to.

This time, you were deepthroating him on your own. Taking him in so deep that your nose was pressed into his pubes, cockhead assaulting the back of your throat. The whole time you practiced breathing through your nose but you failed at times because the way Elvis was grunting and groaning had you moaning around him, which forced you to have to pull up again to get in a breath of air.

Elvis wasn’t complaining. Far from it.

He had you right where he wanted to have you for the longest time now. The whole annoying brother act was just because he’d wanted to fuck the hell out of you from the second he laid eyes on you. The fact that you were his family now sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

Even though you were surprisingly enjoying yourself sucking him off, practicing your skills, Elvis had you pinned down on the bed before he’d cum down your throat. Something he did not want, because he was planning on filling you up in other ways.

Him sliding his cock through your folds, spreading your slick around and rubbing his tip against your clit had you moaning and whimpering – but as soon as you felt him lingering at your entrance, the nerves were flooding back.

Placing a hand on his chest, you tried to close your legs but it was impossible because he was right there in between them, preventing you from doing so. You widened your eyes as you shook your head, writhing underneath him a little, your untouched hole clenching nearly shut as he tries to push himself in.

“N-No, no, Elvis. ’S Not gonna fit..”

“It will.”

“It’s t-too b-big..”

“Jesus,” he huffs out, grabbing your wrist and peeling your hand off of his chest. He put both your hands above your head and trapped your wrists together with his hand, his other hand moving in between your bodies to guide himself back to your entrance. “I will make it fit. Now shut the fuck up and let me in.”

You try to free your hands out of his grip, but it’s useless. He’s too strong.

Tears form in your eyes all over again as you whimper, breathing erratically as he pushes the tip inside of you. Even that was already stretching you further open, and you're clenching so hard that you were pushing him out again.

Elvis groaned in annoyance, moody eyes shooting you a a warning glare. “Goddamnit, Y/N. Relax.”

“I can’t! I c-can’t!”

“Fine,” he growls as he places his hand on your hip, forcing you to keep still as he roughly pushes fully into you. “Then don’t.”

A sharp pain shot through your body, making you cry out in panic. Despite the fact that you were absolutely soaking, the stretch was unbearable.

“I’ve never.. I’m not.. Never have-“

“Never been fucked before? I know.” He growls deeply as he bottoms out, holding still. At least he was granting you that. “But you’ll like it, baby, believe me.”

You were naive. Stupid, even. Because even though you felt like he was painfully splitting you open right now, you truly did believe him.

It was going to feel better. It had to.

Still holding onto your hands because he didn’t quite trust you enough to know you wouldn’t push him off, he pulled back a little only to slam into you again. He growls a little louder as he feels more wetness engulfing him, slipping out of you and onto him.

As he looks down, he notices a little bit of blood on his cock when he pulls back again. He smirks as he sees you looking down too, his eyes meeting yours. “I popped y’er little cherry,” he hums as he leans his face closer to yours, lips ghosting along yours. “You know what that means, sis?”

Cheeks flushed in embarrassement for bleeding on him, you whimper softly as you stare into his eyes with your own teary ones, finding yourself chasing his lips, wanting to kiss him but he wasn’t giving it to you yet.

“You’re mine now.”

The way he whispers those words against your lips has you letting out a soft sob, crying as he kisses you feverishly.

He starts thrusting into you, hard enough for his balls to slap against your skin every time his hips snap forward, but not hard enough for him to cum yet. Because you were tight, so incredibly snug, he had to force himself to not fill you up prematurely.

He wanted to enjoy it for a little longer.

Letting go of your wrists and hip, he places his hand flat on either side of your head and breaks the kiss, looking down at you as he rams you into the mattress. The headboard was slamming against the wall, probably alerting your parents in the next room to what was happening but he was too far gone.

And so were you.

All you could think about was Elvis and how he was railing you into tomorrow, drunk on his cock.

The sting was still there, but the intensity was wearing off, making way for pleasure.

Pure, raw pleasure.

Heat overwhelmed you, an unfamiliar feeling coiling in the pit of your tummy and you knew enough of your friends’ stories that your orgasm was nearing.

“Elvis!” You moaned out loudly, your nails running down his back, clinging onto him. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

It felt strange saying those words, but your brain was too cloudy to think or worry about it.

“Fuck. Me too, baby,” he growls as he presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “Gonna fuckin’ fill you up until you feel it all the way in your tummy.”

You had no idea if that was even possible, but it sounded hot.

You wanted it.

Wanted all of him.

With your spread legs in the air, your toes curl as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Your back arched and Elvis’ hips stuttered, both of you exploding at the same time.

You milked him for all he’s worth and he paints your insides white, thick strings of warm cum filling you up to the brim. A weird sensation spread throughout your stomach and you wondered if it was because of what he said.

He collapses on top of you with his face hiding in your neck, panting heavily against your skin. You could feel his cum spilling out of you as he pulls his softening cock out and you whimper, shivering underneath him because of your first orgasm you’ve just experienced.

“N-Need to p-pee.” You whisper in a shaky voice, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

He rolls off of you but instead of letting you get up, he wraps his arm around your waist and spoons you. His hand moves in between your legs, cupping your sensitive pussy. “No,” he simply tells you, grinning as he softly bites your shoulder, moving his other arm underneath your head and wrapping it around your throat without too much pressure, pressing your back against his chest firmly. “Keep it inside ‘f ya for a little longer. Don’t be ungrateful, baby.”

You squirm against him a little and gasp as he shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, pushing his cum deeper inside of you and keeping it there.

He was right. Spilling the load he’d worked so hard to release right away would be ungrateful… and that’s something that you weren’t.

You were a good girl, a good daughter.

And a perfect sister to fuck.

⊱ taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @peaceloveelvis @ccab @jkdaddy01 @atrophyingaphrodite @ladelinee

#elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #stepbrother!elvis #elvis #elvis presley #tamwrites #tamsdove #elvis x fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n

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memphisflash · 20 days

Note

Hii 💕Could you write an angsty fic about 70s Elvis being very jealous and possessive of a girl? Elvis is desperate to have her all to himself because the girl's job might involve interacting with other men or something like that? and wants to teach her a lesson, with gunplay.🖤

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥

⊱ word count: 3,8K

⊱ warnings: dead dove do not eat!, elvis being jealous and possessive, strong language, tiny mention of diet pills, smoking, degradation, gun play, russian roulette, elvis pulls the trigger a few times, murder threats, elvis manhandling reader, sucking on the barrel, dubious content, obviously smut; penetration with a revolver, normal penetration, unprotected sex, dom!elvis, rough sex, hair pulling, spanking, creampie.

⊱ authors note: seriously, read the warnings bc this is a ride, y'all. also i suck at describing guns but whateverrrr. honestly not that angsty, but it's pure filth. hope y'all likeee <333.

⊱ dead dove masterlist | main masterlist

“He’s in the den and he’s pissed.”

You were confused at the words that were flying out of Charlie’s mouth, who had come running to your car as soon as you drove it through the gates of Graceland. Having just finished a six hour shift at the nightclub you worked at, you weren’t in the mood for these shenanigans tonight.

Or rather, this morning, seeing it was five o’clock.

“How pissed are we talking?” You asked as your fiancé’s friend jumped in the passenger seat of your red Chevy Camaro. “And why is he even angry?”

You were aware that when it came to you, Elvis was easily triggered. He was jealous and that jealousy had seemed to grown tenfold over the past year when you’d gotten a job at an upscale club downtown as a hostess, tending to customers which most often involved business men who couldn’t quite handle their liquor.

You didn’t need this job, because Elvis gave you everything you wanted and more, but being a social butterfly, you liked working and being among people. People outside of Elvis’ bubble.

And Elvis was fine with that. Until tonight, it seems.

“We went to the club to come and surprise you- had this whole VIP table booked and everything, but then he saw you talkin’ to some men and he thought one ‘em put his hand on your waist,” Charlie was rambling, not giving himself time to breathe as you slowly drove up the long driveway to the house. “He was ravin’ and rantin’ in the car the entire way home. About how you was cheating on him and all that. I ain’t gonna repeat what he said, but…”

You looked over at Charlie and clench your fingers on the steering wheel, nerves starting to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You were grateful for Charlie not repeating what Elvis had said, because you knew how foul mouthed he could get when he was angry.

In a way, your relationship could be considered unhealthy at times. Toxic.

He was extremely possessive, not even liking it when a man did as much as look your way or breathe a little too loud in your direction. At some points, he didn’t even want you talking to the guys in his private circle and there’s been plenty of times where he would see you crack a joke with Sonny or have a serious conversation about the newest diet pills with Dr. Nick, and he’d absolutely rip into the men. And into you, though he did that in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

Elvis didn’t want to share you with anyone. He loved you so much it had grown into a borderlining obsession and he’d be damned if he would lose you to another man.

He’d be damned if he’d lose you at all.

And you know how much he loves you, because he’d often tell you and shower you with affection and gifts, as it was his way of apologizing for his behavior. You accepted it every single them, because you too love him so much it’s nearly unbearable.

Besides, you never did truly blame him for his behaviour because you could get the same way. You’ve threatened enough girls that got a little too close to him for your liking, but that’s a story for a whole ‘nother time.

“Wish me luck, Charlie.” You sigh deeply as you parked the car by the house, the man next to you jumping out before you could even kill the engine. He leaned down, holding onto the door.

“You got this, Y/N. Just… don’t be too loud.”

At the small grin that broke the slightly panicked facial expression he wore, you knew what he meant and gasped softly. Before you could give him any kind of verbal reaction, he had slammed the door shut and jogged around the white mansion, sneaking in through the backdoor.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a sigh and got out of the car to walk into the house to face Elvis. Ready or not.

The house was eerily quiet which means Elvis had sent everyone home or to their respected corners on the property. Taking off your shoes and jacket by the door, you put your purse on the floor and made your way into the den with its exotic styled furniture.

The space was dimly lit but the dark figure sitting in the arm chair in the far corner of the room was as clear as crystal to you. The waterfall wall that your fiancé had installed a few years back was switched off, but you could still make out a few stray droplets dripping down. The smell of tobacco was heavy, a hint of vanilla tickling your senses as Elvis blew out a breath of smoke from his cigarillo.

“Took you long ‘nough,” he spoke up, venom lacing his tongue. “Done whoring around?”

Your feet moved slowly across the moss green carpet, loosely folding your arms underneath your chest as you stood in between the couch and another chair across from him.

You knew he didn’t mean his words and he’d apologize for them later, but something in your heart was telling you this was going to be an interesting morning. And definitely a long one.

“I was at work.”

Elvis looked at you, letting out a bitter laugh as he rolls the brown cigarillo around between his fingertips. That’s when you noticed the white handle revolver laying on his left thigh, arm resting on the chair. “Work..” he scoffs, squinting his eyes at you a little. “Ya mean that place where you lettin’ all those wolves touch ya like a goddamn whore?!”

He was yelling, his voice thundering through the room and sinking straight into your veins. You felt your stomach clench, heart skipping a beat and then butterflies pathetically fluttering in your very core.

It scared you when he got like this, even though you knew he’d never physically hurt you, unless you asked for it. Maybe you weren’t right in the head, but God… he was so hot when he got like this.

“That’s not what my job is about and you know it.”

If there was one thing about you, it was that you like pushing his buttons, especially when he was in a state like this. Elvis knows this and while it only gets him angrier, he likes the part where he makes you slip into submissiveness.

There was a small smile on your face, one that he deemed too cocky for his liking. Seems like you were forgetting who had the upper hand here.

Elvis looks at you, sapphire eyes darkened as he pushed his smoke out in the ash tray next to him. He picked up the gun that had been on his thigh and settles back against the cushioned chair, shoving the hocker that was in front of him aside with his foot. Manspreading, he lets the revolver lazily rest in his hand.

“Get on y’er knees.”

He says it casually, though you didn’t miss the urge in his voice. He wanted you to do as he said and you weren’t willing to do so just yet.

“Or what?” You challenged him, standing there with your arms crossed and a cocky, raised eyebrow. Excitement was starting to crawl its way into your veins, arousal growing and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

Elvis’ jaw clenched as he raised his arm, pointing the lengthy revolver in your direction. His index finger grazed the trigger and although you know he wouldn’t pull it, at least not now, you had no idea if there were even bullets in the thing. Knowing him, there probably was.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees, Y/N.”

This time, the words didn’t come out in such a calm manner. His deep voice and the harsh tone of it made you clench around nothing, surely starting to ruin your panties as you feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

A small grin threatened to break through on his face but he managed to fight against it, watching you slowly get on your hands and knees, the gun still pointing in your direction as he rested the handle on his knee.

“Crawl.”

Yup. You were definitely in for it now.

There was a twinkle of excitement in his eyes as he watches you slowly crawl across the room and into his direction, stopping until you were sitting on your knees in between his spread legs. But he wouldn’t allow you to see his excitement- eyes darkening once more, looking down at you as if you were filth.

He allows you to put your hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs as he trails the end of the barrel along your cheek, to your jawline.

“I ought’a teach ya a lesson for disrespectin’ me like ya did tonight.” He growls lowly and you shudder at the feeling of the cold silver of the gun against your skin, both your fear and arousal battling each other. They seem to go hand in hand. “God knows what else ya been doin’. You should be happy I haven’t blown your fuckin’ brains out.”

Your hands grip firmly onto his thighs and a gasp tears through your throat as he places the barrel against your temple, his free hand coming down to wrap around your throat.

You know he’d never do what he said, but you couldn’t help yourself from growing hotter at his threats.

“You w-wouldn’t anyways..” You said breathlessly, thighs rubbing together as his hand moves up to your jaw a little, fingertips pressing in your cheeks.

“Big fuckin’ mouth. How ‘bout ya stop that yappin’ and put that mouth to some good use, huh?”

You nearly moaned out loud at his words, but due to the grip he had on your face, all you were capable of was a needy whimper.

He knows this is turning you on, knows how much of a slut you really are for him. He’s been in this situation with you countless of times before and it never fails to get him all riled up, no matter how sick it was.

You feel the barrel of the gun moving down the side of your face, your eyes closing in anticipation as his other hand releases your face and moves down your throat, fingertips trailing between the valley of your breasts before his hand roughly squeezes your left breast through your top. The gun has moved down your neck and over your breasts too, following his hand before he rests it in between his legs, placing it on his crotch with the barrel pointing up.

“Suck it.” He orders, moving his hand in your hair to pull you down a little more. You’re looking straight into the barrel of the lengthy revolver, which you know oh so well. Hell, you were with the man when he bought it a month ago.

Part of you wants to make him even more angry, but you’re painfully aware of the fact that the longer you’d act like a brat, the longer it would take before he’d actually touch you.

You look up at him as you move closer, his grip on your hair letting up, instead caressing some locks behind your ear as you part your lips and wrap them around the gun in his hand. The taste of steel isn’t a pleasant one, but the sight of Elvis smirking down at you is and that’s what gets you so turned on – knowing he was calling the shots here, watching you do exactly as he says.

And when it came to him, you were a people pleaser. Wanted to please him in any way possible, even if that meant sucking off his gun.

You squeeze his thighs, digging your nails softly in the fabric of his pants as you take the barrel in deeper, though careful not to let it touch the back of your throat. Elvis’ finger had moved away from the trigger, which was only evidence to you that he wouldn’t follow up on what he had threatened you with.

You treated the gun as if it was his actual cock, pulling back up to swirl your tongue around the tip of the barrel. One of your hands moved underneath the handle of the weapon, cupping his cock that was straining his pants.

He let you, pushing the revolver deeper into your mouth as he groans lowly. You relaxed your throat as much as possible, squeezing your eyes shut as your hand was rubbing him a little more frantically through his clothes. He stopped you when your fingertips start fumbling with his belt, pulling the barrel back a little only to press the end of it against the inside of your cheek.

This time, his finger rested against the trigger and you whimpered out in slight fear.

“Did I tell ya to do that?”

Drool was spilling out of the corner of your mouth as he kept your mouth forced open due to the gun being in it, and all you could do was whimper and shake your head. You moved your hand away from his bulge and clung onto his arms pathetically. He took the barrel out of your mouth completely, allowing you to speak.

“I’m s-sorry..” You gasped breathlessly, panting softly.

It was truly pathetic how fast the brat inside of you was willing to do whatever he said and wanted, but you were too horny to care.

“Oh, y’er about to show me how sorry ya are.” The smirk on his face was close to devilish and you knew he didn’t mean sorry about what just happened, but about what happened at your job.

Which was nothing, but to Elvis it had been enough to set him off like this. And you weren’t complaining.

Like a good girl, you had stripped yourself from all pieces of your clothing when Elvis ordered you to. Draped over the hocker in front of him on your tummy, you could feel the cold barrel of the gun traveling down your spine.

Your hair hung in front of your face as your head hung low, hands tugging at the carpet and fingers clenching in the greenness of it because you had to have something to hold onto. You were squeezing your thighs together, arousal sticking to the insides of them and Elvis laughs tauntingly as he prodded them open with the revolver, liking how you jumped a little at the touch of steel grazing down your slit.

“Wonder if those fools at your sleazy lil job get ya this wet.” He grumbles behind you, his free hand rubbing rough circles on your ass cheek. You didn’t answer him fast enough, which resulted in a harsh slap to your ass.

You jolted a little, letting out a soft moan as you threw your hair back and looked at him over your shoulder. “N-No.. Only you, Elvis. Only you make me t-this horny.”

He raises an eyebrow and grins, kneading the supple flesh of your ass in his palm. “I hope that’s the God honest truth, honey, because I’ll fuckin’ kill all of ‘em.”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip and your ass sticking out a little more to him, you flutter your eyelashes at him as you moan softly. “You’d do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything for ya, you ought’a know by now.” He growls, caressing the end of the barrel on your clit, rubbing small circles on it. “The question is, what will you do for me?”

“Anything.” The words spill out without hesitation. You’d really do anything for him and he knows it, knows you can’t resist him.

You don’t quite understand the devilish smirk that spreads across his face, until you feel the end of the barrel lingering at your awaiting hole. Widening your eyes, you gasp and squeal softly as he slowly but surely pushes the steel length inside of you. Your hands grip onto the edge of the hocker, the cool slender barrel stretching you open for him to see.

“E-Elvis!” You cry out, clamping your hand over your mouth and the raven haired man is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away, pulling your arm behind your back and keeping it there. “Hurts!”

Both your arm being twisted back in such a rough manner and the fact that he was fucking you with a revolver without any prep.

But you wanted this. You asked for it – after all, you know better than to disrespect your man like you have done.

“Good. It should.” He doesn’t even move the barrel that fast, but it has you clenching harshly and your thighs quivering as you braced your toes into the carpet. He holds onto your arm roughly, preventing you from getting away. “s’what two-timin’ whores like you deserve.”

It hurts, and yet it feels so damn good. You liked the danger of it all, the fear mixing with arousal that was overtaking your entire being, making you forget you were even here on earth.

Elvis was thoroughly enjoying himself – watching you moan out in breathless squeals, wiggling and writhing, trying to get away and get the barrel to go deeper at the same time. Despite not wanting to hurt you seriously, he still loved threatening you with doing just that.

You disobeyed when he ordered you several times to keep still and he decided to pour some more fear into you by placing his index finger at the trigger, pulling it.

“There’s only one bullet in here, sweet pea, and I didn’t count so you better keep still.”

You froze in place, eyes widening as you look at him over your shoulder. You didn’t know if he was serious or not, but he was looking at you with a dark expression, brooding eyes boring a hole into you.

Was he truly playing Russian Roulette with your life right now?

You should be terrified at this point and while the fear in your chest intensified, so did your arousal, slick sticking to the barrel as he pulls it out a little.

You figured doing exactly as he says from here on out was your safest option, so you did just that – letting him fuck you with the revolver, you put your head down and bit down into the fabric of the hocker, muffled cries filling the den as you came violently over the coolness of the barrel.

Elvis didn’t give you any time to catch your breath after your orgasm and he’s pulled the gun out of you. You could hear him shuffling closer, his pants dropping before he aligned himself at your previously assaulted hole.

You let out a strangled cry as he pushes inside of you, filling you up to the brim and letting you stretch around his thick girth. You felt him all the way in your stomach and could barely utter a word, trying to keep your breathing as steady as you could. Elvis let go of your arm and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you up against his chest roughly.

Your back arches, the fabric of his shirt feeling like fire against your skin as he starts thrusting into you at a harsh, calculated pace. His arm comes to wrap around your waist to hold you against him, bringing his other hand up to once more press the revolver against your skin. You moan like the whore he’d called you as you feel the end of the barrel poke underneath your chin.

You feel him so deep like this, you can barely think straight.

“You’re gon’ quit that damn job of y’ers and stay right here where ya belong.” He growls as his face presses against the side of yours, his breath hot against your skin as you can smell the hint of tobacco on it. “I’ll be damned if I let ‘nother man even look at ya. Nobody can have ya, darlin’, nobody but me.”

He presses the barrel firmer against your skin and all you can do is roll your eyes back and let out loud strangled moans.

Sorry, Charlie.

“I’m y-yours!” You cry out, knowing he wanted to hear a response. “Only yours!”

“Tell me who ya belong to.”

“You, Elvis! I belong t-to y-you!”

“That’s fuckin’ right.” He grunts animalistically as he unexpectedly pulls the trigger once more, making you let out a soft shriek as you tremble in his arms. “Your life belongs to me, princess.”

It’s the fact that he could possibly blow your brains out right now that has you clenching around his cock so fiercely, his hips falter. He drops the revolver to the floor, unable to hold back any longer and knowing you’re about to scream, he clamps his hand over your mouth as he starts thrusting into you at an ungodly pace.

You grip onto his arms and push your manicured nails into his flesh so deeply that you draw blood, screaming into the palm of his hand as his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust. The angle allow his balls to slap against your clit wildly and your second orgasm of the night washes over you like a tidal wave.

You’re shaking so violently that he has to hold you up, pressed firmly against him so you wouldn’t collapse. Tears running down your face and mascara smudged, you look like an absolute fucked out mess and Elvis grunts and moans as he presses his nose against your temple, filling you up with his load after two more harsh thrusts.

It felt as if your limbs were made of jelly as he lets himself fall back on the chair once he pulled out of you, taking you with him. You weakly settle in his lap, turning around to face him, the both of you panting.

You could see his eyes had softened and he lets out a breathless laugh, smiling at you as he caresses your hair out of your face and brings your face closer to his, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love ya, honey.” He mumbles against your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself firmer against him.

“Love you more.”

“There ain’t no bullets in that thing,” He admits, a grin raising the corner of his mouth as you pull back and gasp in disbelief at him. “I jus’ needed ya a lil scared.”

Because being scared got you horny, and he knows that.

“Oh, you’re terrible, Elvis,” you laugh softly as you peck his lips and then hide your face in his neck, cuddling up to him. “I’m gonna quit my job. Be a good wife and give you lots of babies.”

He laughs softly and caresses his fingers through your hair, his other arm wound around your waist to keep you close to him. “Good. ’s All I ever wanted, baby.”

You didn’t need a career, didn’t need something to do when Elvis wasn’t around. As soon as the two of you would get married later this year, you’d give him a bunch of beautiful children and be the perfect little housewife.

Perhaps there was nothing for you in the outside world after all, because you had everything you wanted right here, in the bubble of Graceland. In Elvis' bubble, because that's where you belong.

⊱ taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @ladelinee @peaceloveelvis @jkdaddy01 @atrophyingaphrodite @i-r-i-n-a-a

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #tw; gun play #tw; degradation #tw; dubious consent #tw; death threats #tw; ... everything.#elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #tamwrites #tamsdove

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