Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Don't - Elvis (kind of NSFW)

A/N : request on ao3... yes this actually happened. Course y/n stuff is fake but Elvis did have an orgasm 🧍‍♀️

You were one of the costume designers for the Comeback Special for the one and only Elvis Presley. While you hadn't come up with the idea, you crafted the pattern to accentuate Elvis's body type and sewed almost all of it by hand. Now you watched from the sidelines as Elvis performed his heart out. He was unlike any performer you'd ever seen, and you couldn't seem to tear your eyes away from him. His hips gyrated, body leaning into all of his movements as he belted the lyrics and danced.

Of course you noticed that he was sweating absolute buckets, and you knew that it wasn't his fault. The lights were hot and leather, despite how amazing it looked, was stuffy and stuck to his skin. When they called for a break Elvis came over to your group to clean him up and get him in the other suit.

Another worker helped wipe at the sweat as you cut him from the leather. He had so many people helping with small things on his body, it was easiest to just do it out in the open on set. He was comfortable with it and it didn't force 5 people into a cramped trailer trying to crowd one man for different reasons. It was unfortunate to cut all that sewing but because of the fabric you had, there would be no other way to comfortably get him out of the suit. You helped him shimmy out of the top and tried to not focus on the tan expanse of his chest glistening with sweat. You went for the pants but Elvis stopped you.

"Darlin, anyway I can just keep these on?"

"Why would you want to? They must be so uncomfortable."

He bit his bottom lip, nodding to what you're saying but still reluctant, "I - I think it'd be best if I keep them on."

"We need to swap it all out, Elvis. It'll only take me a minute to cut them."

"Well can I just cut it myself, God damn it?"

Everyone paused what they were doing when it came to their job to stare at him. He was usually very easy going, not demanding too much or getting in the way of what you needed to do. This testy attitude of his was uncommon and it even alarmed you. His eyes were looking everywhere anxiously. This was unlike him. 

"What's going on?"

With an agitated sigh, Elvis walked towards his trailer and brought you in with him. He closed the door quickly, leaning against it and whispering, "can we do it in here, just the two of us?"

"Sure." You said, quickly leaving to grab the other pants then coming back inside. "Everything okay?"

"Swear you won't say a word."

"What?"

"Just don't say nuthin outside of here, okay?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and staring at his feet. "I ain't exactly proud of what happened."

You had just about a million questions for about a million things in your head but decided to limit it to a quick nod, "of course. I won't say a word."

After a brief pause, you said, "and I won't judge you."

His shoulders fell with what seemed to be relief and he nodded his appreciation. Then he stood stiff, keeping his arms crossed at his chest so they wouldn't get in the way of you as you knelt in front to cut them off. You tried to ignore the way his muscles clenched when he moved.

Taking a shaky breath, you began the process of removing the pants. You first cut down the seam of one leg, revealing his leg. Elvis had had to go commando for this outfit and it was something he was willing to do. But when you had seen him in you hadn't been this close to his crotch, so peeling back the leather was a new experience. You kept the fabric on his crotch for as long as possible, cutting the other leg until you had to remove it.

Then you saw what Elvis's issue had been and why he was so humiliated. You didn't recognize it at first, but it didn't take you long to realize what the large white streaks across the dark leather were. They were caked and long, and you glanced up at him to see his entire face bright red.

You didn't comment, folding the fabric over the stain and helping him into the new ones. You weren't as much judging him as you were shocked it happened in the first place. How had he managed to orgasm and cum on stage and nobody noticed? Sure the leather continually rubbing must have been stimulating, but he didn't act any different. You'd been watching the entire time and his performance was normal, eccentric and wild sure but that was Elvis Presley. And throughout it he had suppressed having an orgasm, coming inside his leather suit, and continuing the performance as though none of that happened. Part of you was even impressed at the thought.

When you sewed the new pants on, Elvis let out a sigh of relief, "thank you doll."

"Of course."

"That is so embarrassing. I really 'preciate you keeping it between the two of us."

You smiled softly, "I'm not judging you, Elvis. It's strange, sure, but you pulled it off without anyone noticing. I will throw them away for you."

He started to adjust, getting ready to leave. But then he laughed softly, "how stupid you gotta be for a little friction to do the trick?"

"Hey," you said with a sly smile. "I like leather too."

Elvis smiled at that, appreciating your attitude towards the whole thing. Then he took a deep breath, opened the door and went back on set as though he hadn't orgasmed during the first act.