Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Stranger in My Own Home Town - Elvis (NSFW)

A/N: request by @queen_addict4life

You leaned against the kitchen counter as you sorted through the mail. There was a range of bills, Dan mail for Elvis, or other useless items. You happened upon the last letter, small and white with your name scrawled across it. Curiously you opened it, then gasped and dropped it to the floor.

In the little card, there was a bloody fingerprint with the words 'You aren't worth him, we'll find you' smeared in black ink. Dated September 10th, 1971. Today. You brought your hands to your mouth, trying to contain the shock and terror that went through you. This was the fourth death threat you'd received for being in a relationship with Elvis in a month and it was starting to get to you.

"Hey baby you thank the red-" Elvis came into the kitchen and stopped mid stride. He looked like sex on a stick in an orange top with puffed sleeves and high waisted black pants that hugged him just right. His hair was a little mused from the day, and his smile fell when he saw how upset you were. You tried to contain yourself, offering a weak little smile.

It didn't work. Elvis came over and gave you a hug. You broke in his arms, letting yourself cry onto his shoulder as you clutched him. Then he looked down and saw the note lying on the floor. He picked it up and scowled.

"Who the hell do they think they are?" He scowled, ripping it in the air before tossing the remains. Then he looked at you and his face softened. "Baby, oh baby's what's the matter? You ain't believing them?"

When you went to speak your voice was froggy and uneven, but every deep breath you tried to take make the emotions all the worse. In a weepy voice you said, "well maybe they've got some merit, Elvis. Maybe I just ain't good enough."

"Y/N."

"I mean it! Maybe they see something you don't. Something's gotta be awfully wrong to wanna end this so bad."

Elvis's hands were on your shoulders and he brought one to cup your cheeks, "Y/N, they're just jealous fans. They ain't worth a cent."

"But -"

"My opinion here is the one that matters. And I don't like that these motherfuckers think they know my relationship. You are all I want, all I eva wanted. You are enough Y/N. God you are more than enough."

Your wiped at your nose and sobbed into your hands, Elvis just sighed. He lifted you and sat you on the counter as you cried, wrapping your body around him for support. His fingers went up and down your spine gently, whispering soft affirmations. Then you felt him straighten a little and lick his lips.

"Baby... how about I show you how enough you are?"

You paused, blinking up at him. "Elvis, you don't have to."

"Y/N, you're not listening," he said sternly. "I want to. I want it more than ever."

It was then that your brain started to clear. You saw a man standing in front of a woman, trying to tell her how much he loves her. You saw the way his blue eyes twinkled under the kitchen lighting, the way his neck flexed just slightly when he took a deep breath, or the way his hair fell over his forehead that was just slightly covered in sweat. You felt his love though you couldn't explain it. There was nothing tangible to what this feeling was but it was there all the same, floating throughout your heart, your soul, and up into the air.

Elvis seemed to notice your shift and as he went on both knees before you, hands running up your calves softly, you knew that he understood. And you finally understood. So you nodded your consent and he smiled.

Elvis pulled your body to the edge of the counter, careful to not pull you over. He pushed your skirt up and over your hips then took your lacy panties down your legs. But he didn't make straight for your sex.

"Y/N," he said against your skin, hot breath against goose flesh. "You look stunning."

"No I -"

He nipped at the flesh on your inner thigh, making you jolt. His hands were holding your legs firmly, fingers stroking your skin.

"You're so soft, so fucking soft." He nuzzled against you for a moment before licking his lips and settling his gaze upon your sex. "And you're stunning. Ain't nobody look that perfect."

Without giving you a chance to respond, Elvis went in a licked one stripe from your opening to your clit. You shook a little, feeling your legs strain against his touch. He wasn't one to waste time, and quickly Elvis started eating you out as though it was his last meal on Earth. His licks were swift and deft, and he nipped at each part of you that made you shudder.

"Such a good girl for me," he murmured, before kissing your clit. "Taking it so good."

"E-Elvis!"

"What do you need, baby girl?"

"You!"

"Tsk, tsk," he shook his head with a sloppy grin, the lower half of his face covered with your juices. "You're gonna have to be more vulgar, baby."

His hands were massaging your thighs and you couldn't seem to properly think. But you eventually sputtered out, "I want to cum on your face."

Elvis smiled, "good girl."

And you did. Elvis didn't beat around the bush or hesitate. His tongue found your clit and circled it. His plump lips pulled you in and moaned against you from your taste. Then he did another lazy circle and you came with a scream, grinding your hips to meet his ministrations.

Elvis followed you after with little laps to calm you down as your body shook from the pressure. Then you opened your eyes, smiling at the warm kisses Elvis peppered along your thighs. He stood up and helped you off the counter, sliding your skirt over your hips for you.

"Thank you," he said.

"Thank you, Elvis."

"No," he said, openly licking his lips. "It was my treat."