how about a fic where the reader (gn) overstimulates elvis to the point he's crying and like deep in subspace
catharsis
summary: elvis needs to let himself go- to relax. you know know just how to make that happen. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy ) x gender neutral reader word count: 2384 warnings: sub elvis. overstimulation ( in a way ). soft dom reader. oral ( m receiving ). handjobs. big daddy elvis. this has a one word title and it's big daddy, so expect a certain vibe from it. sexy but a lot of emotion in it. mentions of lifting up his stomach. tiny bit of foreskin and ball play nothing too much. mild insecurity bits on the part of elvis. author’s note: so anon i really enjoyed this prompt and am thankful you sent it to me. partially because i'm not super great at gender neutral but also because it was a nice prompt. so i have a feeling though that you might have preferred this to be another era of elvis and if it means anything i did write a beginning of another era before marina- bless her soul- sort of challenged me with this and was like "you don't see sub big daddy a lot" and i took that to mean let's try it. i hope you like it anyway since i did quite enjoy writing it and if you do want me to redo it i can. y'all know the drill on this, pick real elvis or austin elvis tbh.
Elvis does not necessarily like to give away how he's feeling when it comes to his exhaustion, his pain, his- everything. Sure, he'll let you know when he's angry and when he's happy as can be but when he's stressed or when he's feeling like everything is too much for him? You couldn't pry that out of him with all the bribery in the world. Still, his body- his body has a tendency to give him a way with the noises it produces. You can hear it in the way his knees crack just so or the way his mouth opens in a groan when he stands up to get something from another room. The ones when he sits down though- the groan that sounds like every bit of tension trying to escape him through his mouth? Those tell you just how pent up everything is for him, how much he's in need of some form of release or else it's going to come out as anger at the worst time or just act like a poison in his veins. Being gentle is the way you have to approach this though because you love Elvis lord help you but you do, but he can be skittish when it comes to things like this.
"Buntyn. You feeling alright?" You murmur, inching your body closer to his on the couch. He won't bolt and he won't lie if you're gentle if you take things slow with him. He won't lie if you allow yourself to lean your head against his shoulder, almost as if you want him to wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer into his warm plush body. He won't bolt if you allow yourself a moment to drape your arm across his stomach to pull him that much closer to you as if you're one.
The way his head turns to you slowly, almost as if his head has to extend a truly obscene amount of effort to actually turn to you, has you nearly asking again if he's alright, if he's taken his sleeping medication again to block out the way you know his mind is racing. Or perhaps he took something else, something for the headache his eyes are giving him this week. No, it's purely just done because he knows with you he can be slow, can savor the moments of having you near him, curled into him. His voice sounds rough, tired truly but it heightens his accent in ways that have you holding your breath. "Tired, Satnin. Ya know how I get."
You nod, your hand trailing across the expanse of his stomach, watching for him to attempt to shoo your hand away or suck it in to keep it away from you. You feel him shrink in on himself just a bit and you can't help the frown that crosses your features. Here was your partner, the love of your life, your rock shrinking himself down when he was always so much larger than life. If you could take away the insecurity once and for all just to allow him to enjoy these simple touches. To him to realized no matter what came to be there was no reason to shirk away. Every part of him, every inch of him was yours to have and hold and cherish just as he did yours. Even if he did stray, you knew what you were getting into from the get go.
"Satnin-" He starts before you shake your head, shushing him quietly.
"None of that Buntyn. Let me take care of you. Let me help you." Help him relax, help him feel good, help him with whatever could help him with.
The tension is his shoulders start to dissipate the second the words leave your lips. His eyes rake over your form before his lips upturn just a hair. "Gotcha work cut out for ya then."
The hand that had started to trace shapes on his stomach started a slow descent past it lifting it up the paunch and grasping at his uncut and partially aroused cock. "Not too much," you start, moving your hand back out from under his stomach, spitting on it before starting to run your hand up and down his shaft. There's a subtle but noticeable hitch in his breath as you move your hand almost as if he wasn't expecting it. As if he wasn't expecting the way his body immediately reacted.
Your thumb brushes against the tip as you inch back the foreskin of his cock. His hip buck involuntarily as you hum. It's almost as if you feel the need to study him. Feel the need to make sure your actions are heading the the right direction. Your grip tightens as you continue to have your thumb play with the tip even as the rest of your hand moves up and down. There's a throbbing between your legs as you focus only on Elvis, only on his pleasure, watching his face contort as he growls and groans and sounds that are downright animalistic pour out of his mouth. It's been a rough month and you both know it. Know just how much he needs this so he allows himself to trust you as he always does.
"That's my good boy. Letting me take care of you like this. Letting me help you." You practically coo the words, a sharp contrast to the obscene noises coming from under his stomach and between his legs as your hand pumps quicker, his copious amount of precum providing more ample lube than your spit had. "Wanna tell me what you want, Buntyn? What I should give you?"
Elvis eyes you through his hooded eyes, the choice you're giving him causing his arousal to curl further into his abdomen. "Mouth." A simple one word answer but one that requires more of an explanation. As if sensing that he needs to elaborate more he swallows and continues, his brain quickly starting to become more fuzzy the more he feels your hand and watches your hand play with him. "On me."
Now that was more like it. That was more like it, your good boy telling you, asking you what he wants. A hum of delight leaves your lips as you oblige, shifting your position on the couch and lifting up his stomach to fully allow yourself access to his cock. You shouldn't tease, you think, but there's something exquisite in looking up through your eyelashes at him and watching how his head tilts back at just your breath against the tip of his cock. There's something exquisite in how he knows when you're doing this he's not supposed to touch unless you give him the cue so his hands are curled into fists grabbing at the fabric of the couch- clawing at it. You place a kiss against his tip and hear what almost sounds like a whine leave his lips before you place another and another all over his cock. Still not actually taking him in your mouth, waiting to hear one final word before you do. Waiting to see if he's inching toward where you need him to be for this to achieve what you want it to. A hand of yours moves up to grab at one of his own and he greedily takes it as you place another kiss to the tip of his cock and he lets out another whine, this time with a word attached. "Please."
That flips a switch for you, allows you to immediately take the tip of him in your mouth, allows you to suck slowly around the tip before pushing him any further in his mouth. Your tongue plays a bit with the foreskin, trying to slip under it a little as he has to force himself to not buck into your mouth. Instead his grip on your hand tightens his rings digging into your flesh and clanging against yours just a little bit. He can't help but writhe a little though, even as he keeps the rest of his body still. You look up at him, trying to study his face and find him with his mouth open practically panting and groaning softly as his eyes flutter shut. He's almost there, almost where you feel he needs to be, he's losing that part of him that's trying to hold him back, that part that tells him to control how he's feeling and reacting. He deserves something for it, deserves to have your mouth finally take him fully, your lips closing around him and taking him deeper into your mouth.
A whimper leaves his mouth at that, at the warmth of your mouth fully enveloping his cock. He doesn't- he wants to let himself fall, let himself fully give himself over to what you're trying to do but he shouldn't. He shouldn't and yet he feels your free hand play with his balls, feels your free hand add just that little bit of extra something that has his hips rocking just barely against your mouth. You're trying to take care of him, trying to make him feel good in a way only you truly can. "Satnin- Y/N- let me, gotta take it easy on me." The words are choked out, almost as if he's trying to hold on to the last vestiges of control before he looks down and sees the look in your eyes. The look that tells him you have no intentions of taking it easy on him. That you want to see him relax. It has his heart stuttering in his chest for a second before he takes his free hand and touches your hair, tries to grab at it as he shakes his head. "Gonna give me those little deaths, ain't ya?"
You're gonna have him crying, he knows it, you so rarely do this but when you do all he remembers after the fact is how his brain shuts off, how he can only remember your mouth, your hand, your hole because that's all there was. The sensations of everything taking him to a place where he doesn't have to worry about a damn thing. Your lips have curled into a smirk around his cock as you nod, somehow in sync with the way your head bobs up and down. It shouldn't be what has him finally letting go, it shouldn't but he thinks it might be. You feel something almost at the same time he does, feel how his body is going a little lax though you know you want him to tighten just a bit more before feeling every bit of tension flutter away. You know- You remember the last times. "Gonna- Y/N- don't. Play nice."
He mutters the words breathlessly, almost as if he doesn't know what he's asking for and you take it to mean don't play nice. Since playing nice in this situation is pushing him to the brink. Your mouth tightens and your hand moves around, playing with his balls, rubbing where your mouth can't touch, playing with his stomach as his noises above you get to be more intense. You hear what feels sounds like a sob, and almost pull away before he pushes you back down onto his cock. It's not him asking you to stop, it's him doing what you're asking of him, doing what you want him to do in this moment. It's him letting go, allowing himself to feel what he wants to feel, to release what he needs to release in these moments.
It's just you and him and the way his brain isn't thinking on anything but your mouth and his cock and your hands and his cock and how he just feels the care and love you feel for him in this moment. How you just want to be there for him, how you're there to take care of him like he does for you. The world is just nothing but both of you and the pleasure he's chasing as he feels every breath from your nose and every imperfection on your skin and on his as they meet. It's nothing but the noises and tears you're pulling from him as he feels himself slowly building toward his orgasm. You pull away just a bit and he whines and hears himself through a tunnel saying don't before you smile and keep your mouth on his cock.
Normally he'd warn you he's about to come, normally he'd tell you ahead of time because it can be a downright mess if he doesn't but in this moment he doesn't even realize he's about to until it starts to shoot out of him and down your throat. His hand on your head falls to your shoulder as he can't even force himself to keep a hold of whatever sort of grip he might have tried to have on your hair. You feel his muscles relax in a way they don't even do when he's asleep and you know you've done what you set out to do. You realize as you're struggling to swallow and not choke on his copious amount of cum that it's worked. Elvis is more- Elvis got what he needed from you, what he needed in general. When you think he's finished you slowly ease your mouth off of him and look up at him. His head is tilting forward as he looks at you, his hand that's on your shoulder moving to wipe off the excess cum from the side of your mouth so gently you shudder despite yourself. You might have cum but it doesn't matter if you have or not because he did, he's had his release that has tears still coming up every so often and has you nuzzling his thighs and placing a kiss or two on his stomach and chest as you finally reach his mouth while a small smile.
"Bath?" He whispers, sniffling just slightly.
"Gotta take care of you after you let go." You answer, nuzzling at his nose, and running your hand through his hair. "Can you stand up? Or do you need a minute."
He nods before he holds up a finger. "Just a minute."
"Take all the time you need, baby boy."
taglist: @ab4eva, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @blurredcolour, @steph-speaks, @softsatnin, @powerofelvis, @thatbanditqueen, @mooodyblue, @notstefaniepresley, @tacozebra051. i am going to actually make up that taglist form tonight or this week. apologies if you wanted to be tagged and i didn't tag you.
