Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Paralyzed - Elvis (NSFW)

A/N : request by @halfalarry_01 sorry it's been so long!!

You chewed your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming. Colonel Tom Parker was beside you, tapping his little cane incessantly as though the noise was helping any of you to focus. Parker managed Presley, but you were managing this whole production with Binder. You had coordinated all the little details, including this leather jumpsuit that Parker certainly didn't like.

But you were getting angry as you watched Elvis perform. You leaned your arms on the table and watched as he groaned into his mic. His rendition of All Shook Up was breathy and he was falling to his knees at every chance, such a difference to the steady entertainer he'd been just minutes ago. But now he was moving and making groaning noises with each turn. He was such a damn good performer, but something seemed so off with him today. You felt your face flush with a mix of rage and humiliation. Your idea can't be wasted just because he's decided to be in some funk.

The director called for a five minute break, and you hustled down the little stairs to meet Elvis. An employee had laid a towel on his neck and he was chugging from a plastic water bottle as you came over.

"Presley, dressing room. Now."

His blue eyes widened but he followed you all the same, the leather crinkling slightly with his movements. When you got in, you slammed the door and Elvis looked at you like you were crazy.

"What the hell was that?" You propped your hands on your hips, giving him a look.

Elvis turned away from you, wiping his face with the towel, "what was what?"

"Elvis," you said. "Don't play coy here. You was doing great up until that last song and now you're singing all wrong."

"Does my singing sound bad?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at you. He still refused to face his body to you and it was making you angrier.

"No, it's just different. It's not you, and, and will you just look at me? Why you turned away?"

"Y/N,"

You stomped over, standing next to his shoulder. He smelled just a little sweaty and masculine, but you didn't mind. "It's not you and we ain't going through all this trouble to do something that's not you. Now can you just look at me?"

Elvis turned his head to look at you, but still his body was faced away. You groaned and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him roughly until he was close and facing you. Then you realized the problem as it probed your leg. You stepped back, your cheeks pink.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to hide it," Elvis said, his breath still uneven and his eyes looking anywhere but you. "The leather, it... it's tight."

"Elvis," you said calmly, though you felt a million things stir up inside your chest. In your core you felt a warmth stir around, testing yourself to see how far you were willing to go. It wasn't a battle of what you wanted, it was what you were willing. "Is that your problem? Just the, um, leather?"

"Yes, I perform just fine. Leather's just been rubbing up on me and I can't help it."

You licked your lips and said in a straight voice, "I'm your manager, aren't I?"

"One of 'em."

You looked up to him, batting your black eyelashes, "let me help. I will do what I need to get my clients on the right track."

His eyes widened and he shook his head sheepishly, "oh, I ain't asking that. You don't gotta -"

"Mr Presley," you said, hands on his abdomen. You guided him to the little red couch and he sat down. Then you went to your knees, "I want to."

"Only if you want to."

"Oh, I insist," you said, as you unzipped the front of his leather pants. His cock came out quickly, already standing tall and pink from arousal. Elvis took a sharp inhale as the cool air hit him, a contrast to the hot and sticky leather. His black hair fell to his forehead and curled a little, obstructing his vision a little as he looked down at you.

He watched you assess his cock. Then you licked one stripe from base to tip, before circling the tip in your mouth. He moaned, biting his hand to stop from alerting everyone. You felt a hand come to your hair and Elvis mumbled, "god you're so gorgeous. Doing so good."

With his praises, you continued. You opened wider and started to take more of him into your mouth, holding onto his thighs as an anchor. He tasted salty from the sweat but you didn't mind, you just took deep breaths and focused on getting all of him. When your nose brushed his base, he moaned again. Fingers circled in your hair as you lifted off slowly.

Then, you batted your eyes, allowed your nails to dig into the skin of his thighs just a little, and began to bob up and down the length of his cock. Elvis's hand in your hair tightened as his hips started to thrust to meet your lips. His cock hit the back of your throat but you fought off the gag reflex.

"Such a good girl, good fucking girl.." he murmured, lust clouding his blue eyes.

You slipped one of your hands beneath his cock to find his balls, gingerly messing with them. Your tongue ran hotly against his skin and he pulled tighter on your hair. Everything in Elvis started to tighten, and he was biting his fist furiously to keep from moaning your name loudly.

Then he started to shudder, and you felt his warm semen start to spurt in your mouth. You did your best to swallow it down, feeling it slide down your throat as Elvis's thrusts came to a crashing halt. Then you pulled off, licking your lips.

Elvis was taking deep breaths as he tried to recover, his tanned chest heaving. He closed his eyes as though the sight of you with your lips shiny and pink after just sucking him off was too much.

You neatly placed his cock back inside his trousers and zipped him up. Elvis just stared at you, then said in a dry voice, "you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

"C'mere," he lifted his arm and you came to his side. Gingerly, Elvis held your face and kissed you. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, thumb grazing your jawline as he deepened the kiss. Then he parted and placed his forehead on yours, his breathing finally coming back to normal. "I should go."

"You should," you agreed.

He stood up and checked himself in the mirror, slicking his hair back with his palm though it didn't stay. You watched him move from the room, all polite Southern gentleman. Silently, you rolled your tongue through your mouth and remembered the feeling of him inside you.