#try and tell me that doesn’t have Elvis x reader (or even Austin x reader) all over it 👀

[sagesolsticewrites]

Bringing my Swiftie rambling over here just to tell y’all that when Midnights comes out in just under 24 hours I will absolutely be getting fic ideas 👀 esp for Lavender Haze bc omg

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 27🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, mentions of killing, ANGST, SMUT, mentions of blood/ gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.5k

A/N: Hello everyone!! Thank you for your patience! This part has a lot to uncover so get ready! Lots of new back story of Alexander and Iris and new discoveries have been made that you're not going to like...🫣Thanks for continuing to be so enthusiastic about this story!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

The air felt tense like everyone in here was holding their breath as you and Elvis walked in the room. Elvis tells Jerry to wait outside and he gladly obliges. Iris and Alexander sit next to each other on the long couch and you go to take a seat in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Elvis doesn’t sit down, he stands right beside you and places his hand on your shoulder to try to calm you. You couldn’t completely relax though. You were too anxious to see what these people had to say or if they were even telling the truth. 

You look at them expectantly, waiting for them to start the conversation. You direct your first question to Elvis instead. 

“Where did you go?” You ask in a hushed tone. 

He sighs heavily, seeing how much you’re hurt, and kneels next to you to get closer. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was gone for so long…I went all over the country. I was trying to find anyone who might have a clue where I could find older vampires. Ones that would be more well-versed in such matters we are facing. I ran into dead ends everywhere I went. I went to New York, Louisiana, all the way back to California even but had found nothing. I couldn’t give up though.” He explains. 

“I then went to Colorado, one of the final places I decided to stop at. I met one of my buddies I know out there, he’s also one of us. I told him what I was looking for and how I wasn’t having any luck. He knew about some old vampires that lived in the mountains, far away from any town, and were essentially recluses.” He chuckles looking at Iris and Alexander snarkily. They throw daggers back at him and stay silent. 

“It wasn’t easy finding them. It took me hours to get through the mountains and get past the traps they have set up for wandering hikers,” he quips. 

“Yes that’s the whole point of living out of reach of people, so no one can find us,” Alexander grumbles. 

Elvis has a smile on his face and continues to speak, “Well, their traps weren’t that effective since I’m in one piece. But they did not like trespassers, they tried to hurt me and get me off their property,” he snickers. You didn’t laugh though. Every hair on your body felt like it stood up and your blood boiled. The very idea of anyone trying to hurt him made you angry beyond comprehension. You hate the idea of anyone hurting Elvis or even laying a finger on him. 

You grip the arm of the chair tightly, your anger getting the best of you. 

“Did either of you lay a finger on him?” You say through your teeth. They shift uncomfortably in their seats as they look at each other. They clear their throats and take a deep breath before speaking. 

“Well, y/n, you have to understand, we don’t like intruders coming near us. We didn’t know who he was-,” Iris starts to explain but you don’t let her finish, your anger getting the best of you. 

“What the hell are you even talking about?! He’s Elvis Presley! The most famous man on the planet!” You snap. Elvis puts his hand on yours, squeezing it lightly. 

“Honey, they’re telling the truth. They had no idea who I was before telling them. They don’t own a single TV or a radio,” Elvis tells you. 

You’re absolutely shocked. You had never heard of anyone before such a recluse they don’t know who Elvis is. Even his name is eye-catching and different, you can’t believe the name doesn’t even ring a bell for them. 

You try to relax a bit and focus on Elvis to calm you down. 

“What did you do to convince them?” You ask. 

“I tried to talk to them at a distance, try to explain our situation. Nothing really convinced them til they saw my eyes. They trusted me a bit more after that. The harder part was getting them to leave with me. They aren’t exactly adventurous…” he says slyly. That earned Elvis another death glare from the both of them. You throw them the same look and they get the message. 

“So do you believe us? Are you going to help us or continue to be difficult,” you question. You knew it sounded harsh, but you weren’t going to have these people in your house if they weren’t going to help you two figure out some things about your new vampire lives. 

They take a deep breath before speaking and look at you both. 

“Yes, we believe you. The way you protect Elvis is a huge indication that you have a bond. We just haven’t met anyone like us in a very long time,” Alexander says gently. 

Considering how they are so isolated, you aren’t too surprised they haven’t been in contact with any other vampires. Let alone any other bonded ones. 

You relax a bit, trying to give these people a chance and not get too upset. 

“How old are you both then? When was the last time you met someone like us?” You ask. 

They smile at each other and hold each other’s hands. 

Iris speaks first, “I’m meant to look twenty years old but in reality, I’ve been on this earth for seven hundred and fifty years. I’m originally from Spain where my family was royalty and very powerful. I’ve only met another Chosen pair twice in my life. We are extremely rare you see,” she says directing her attention to Alexander to start talking too. 

“I’m the same age too. I’m from France though. Our regions had religious tensions in these times and I was a knight fighting for my country. I was a young man then, only nineteen at the time. But I saw her face in the grand throne room and I never was the same after seeing her,” he says sweetly looking at Iris. 

“Did you know she was meant to be with you? Did you feel the connection?” You ask him inquisitively. 

He chuckles softly at you, “I wouldn’t know. I was just a human then. I just thought she was distractingly beautiful,” he explains. 

You look back at Iris with a smug smile on her face. You don’t know why you assumed he was a vampire first but you kind of feel embarrassed for jumping to conclusions. 

“Oh, I’m sorry for assuming things. How were you turned then, Iris? Did you feel the connection with him?” You ask. 

“I was turned when I was on my death bed, a lot like how Elvis was from how he explained it to us. It was common at that time to catch smallpox and there was no cure. It was brutal and anyone near you would undoubtedly catch it. I didn’t want to die. I begged my mother and father to do anything. Hire someone that could cure me,” she tells you. 

“At this time, it was looked down upon to go against the church's beliefs or practices. Dark magic was shunned by anyone in the country but it was still being heavily practiced. I heard from many people that there were people on the outskirts of town that would practice it and they could cure anyone that came to them. I begged my parents to get one of them to help me. I felt death closing in on me with every breath. As much as they hated the idea, they didn’t want me to die. I was engaged to a prince in England and there was too much to be lost if I suddenly passed away. They were willing to risk the chance of someone finding out that dark magic was being practiced in the palace walls.”

You were shocked by her story. She was royalty at one point and no one now knows the true story of what happened to her. All except for you and Elvis now. 

Iris continues, “They found a healer and snuck him into the palace late at night. I was getting weaker by the second and barely remembered how it happened… but I remember him asking to save me. I remember how cold he was. He felt like ice to me but I thought it was because I was so weak. He leaned in close and told me he’d give me a gift, one that would let me live forever. I thought he was crazy but I permitted him to do what needed to be done to save me. I wasn’t expecting the bite, I was expecting some sort of magic spell or something. It was excruciating as you are aware of, but after the pain of the bite resided, my body felt stronger than ever.”

“He then took me away from the palace, out of the way from harming any humans, and learned how my new abilities worked with the others that lived outside of town. I learned how to control my thirst and how to feed without hurting anyone. I was gone for a month and everyone was worried sick about me. But I eventually returned to the palace and assured everyone I was fine and better than ever. I compelled most of them that I wasn’t gone as long as they remembered to help me get back into normal life.”

You and Elvis were enthralled by her story. Some of her stories paralleled Elvis’ too. They were both so desperate to live. They didn’t know the ramifications of this choice and how it would alter their entire existence. You had so many questions for them, especially how they have been living like this for so long. 

“That’s truly incredible. I’m so glad you had guidance from them. What happened after all of that? Did you marry the prince after all?” You ask. 

She laughs amused and shakes her head, “Well, almost. I was a few days away from marrying the prince and then he walked into my life. I knew the moment I saw him,” she blushes. 

“So did I,” Elvis says softly. You look up at him in awe. It was the first time he said it to you. It was shocking to hear from his lips but it made your heart feel so happy and overjoyed. 

“So you know what I’m talking about then. That instant feeling of happiness and the pull to be closer to them,” she explains to both of you. “I had that with Alexander. The second I saw him, I thought he was the most beautiful man to ever exist.”

Alexander squeezes her hand and smiles at her. 

“I thought she was beautiful too. Everyone thought she was beautiful so I didn’t think much of it when I wanted to be closer to her. Thought I was just like everyone else,” he chuckles. 

“When did you know it was something more?” Elvis asks. 

They both look at each other and have this sly look on their faces. 

Oh… you remember that moment it became so much more intense between you two.

“Well I… I invited him to my room to talk to him. His scent lured me even more and I wanted to be extra close to him. It wasn’t until I touched him… and kept touching him that I realized there was so much more here. My body wanted him to please me beyond my wildest dreams…He became my new obsession I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wanted to have him locked in my bedroom at all hours of the day. That was my plan actually, to keep him there til I had my fill and make him forget all of it. But as you know Elvis, you can’t compel them to forget anything,” she says heartily. 

They both laugh at the notion and Elvis nods his head in agreement. 

“Did you feel similarly with y/n Elvis?” She asks him. 

He pauses and looks at you, analyzing your eyes and dragging down to your back and your chest. He takes a slow breath in before speaking. 

“Yes, very similar. The pull she had on me from the start… all of that was the same. I tried not to touch her though. I didn’t want to repulse her. I tried to protect her from myself in any way I could. I was so starved I was so afraid I’d hurt her if I tried to take a bite.”

“But what changed…” Alexander asks him. 

Elvis shifts uncomfortably and bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Well uhh… I got upset at her… for something stupid that was my fault anyway. But something changed in me. The way I needed her…The way I needed her physically… it was so overwhelming,” he admits. He looks over at you longingly but adverts his eyes elsewhere to not be distracted. The more you learn about the first few days with Elvis will never not shock you. You didn’t know what he was feeling or what he wanted. He was smitten by you long before you accepted the truth. 

Iris and Alexander exchange looks and nod their head in agreement. 

“That’s how it goes. You don’t want to leave their side or anything,” Iris agrees, “I felt the same thing. It only makes it worse if you have them intimately,” she adds. You watch as Elvis squeezes your hand slightly at that comment. 

“How did you tell him what you were?” You ask changing the subject. 

“Once I realized I couldn’t compel him to forget anything, panic slightly set in. I knew one of our rules was for humans to never find out about our existence. It scared me and I didn’t know what to do. I went to the man who turned me, looking for guidance. I told him the problems I was facing with Alexander. He looked at me like I grew a second head. He knew the second I started to describe the feelings I had for Alexander made him my Chosen. I never heard of what that was. He had met many others like us but for them, it took centuries to meet their Chosen. After wrapping my head around that all, I went to find Alexander and told him the truth, I showed him my fangs and reassured him I wouldn’t hurt him. But I had to explain the bond, the connection we shared was more powerful than anything in this world. He accepted me for who I was and eventually let me feed on him. It seems like we got very lucky that we didn’t need to wait for centuries for each other,” she quips proudly. 

Elvis looks at you lovingly, “we are lucky,” he coos. 

“How did you tell her Elvis? Were you scared too?” Alexander asks. 

Elvis instantly gets uncomfortable, letting go of your hand and standing back up. He fidgets with his rings, not looking at anyone in the eye when he speaks. 

“I didn’t get the chance to tell her…” Elvis admits. He looks so uncomfortable telling this to these strangers in his living room. 

“She walked in on me feeding off of a girl in my bed,” he admits. 

Iris and Alexander exchanged shocked looks. You felt the room grow very quiet and uncomfortable. You didn’t want to relive that moment, it was hard to deal with. Everything changed in that moment. If you had actually listened to him and didn’t go in his bedroom, many things would have turned out differently in this journey… you couldn’t help but wonder the alternatives…

“How could you do that to y/n?” Alexander snaps at Elvis. Elvis shoots him a death glare, it petrifies everyone in the room. 

“It’s not like I got any enjoyment out of it, believe me,” he snarls. 

“But how could you still do that? You knew that y/n was meant for you and you still fed off of someone like that,” Iris presses. 

“I couldn’t admit to her or myself that this sort of thing was real! I thought it was a legend! Something that happened a long time ago but doesn’t happen anymore,” he seethes. He steps away from you, seeing how his emotions are getting the best of him. 

“Every time I fed off of someone, all I could think of was how she tasted! How bad I wanted her and only her. So don’t look at me like I'm some kind of ruthless monster. I hated myself for doing it. How I’d have her in my bed only hours ago and try to forget how much I needed her by drowning myself in someone else.”

It felt like your heart stopped. This new confession was shocking, to say the least. Nothing prepared you for the truth of what he might have done when you weren’t with him. His eyes looked sorrowful as he looked at you. It hurt you so much to see him be this way. 

“How often would you do that…” you ask him. 

He sighs heavily, “Baby please,” he whimpers. 

“Just tell me. I can’t go back in the past and change it so it doesn’t matter. I just want to know the truth.” You say firmly. 

“One too many times…” he says softly. Not the answer you wanted to hear but it was enough. 

“I don’t know if you knew… but you’re not supposed to do that…” Iris says gently. 

“Yes I’ve gathered that,” Elvis spats at her coldly. 

They were looking at Elvis like he was the most vile creature they’d ever laid eyes upon. You felt your anger bubble up to the surface and snap. 

“How about you tell us how to go about feeding instead of sitting there and judging him! He’s not perfect but he’s different now! So much has changed. If you’re going to judge him, you have to judge me too. I was engaged when I met him but didn’t care and let Elvis take me to his bed anyway. You’re in the twentieth century, learn to adapt,” you hiss. 

Their faces are shocked by your blunt words. You weren’t going to sit there anymore as they continued to take little jabs at Elvis. 

“We’re sorry for saying those things. We apologize for hurting your feelings,” Alexander says somberly. 

“It’s fine,” you grumble, “can you tell us how you feed though? There isn’t any guidance in any book for us to follow,” you try to explain calmly. 

“Well from what I’ve known and experienced from the different vampires I’ve met, you can feed however suits you but it’s a little different when you’re with your Chosen. As I’m sure you are aware, you only want your partner’s. Nothing is as fulfilling. You still should drink human blood every few weeks to keep your strength up and keep your hunger at bay. It can be from a human you compel but you don’t bite from anywhere but the neck. You don’t feel any need for humans other than their blood. There’s no pull to give them anything else. You make your interaction with them to feed as brief as possible. But the need for each other's blood will never go away, you’ll always be in need of one another. That’s just how your bond works.” She says. She suddenly looks at you inquisitively, analyzing your overall demeanor. 

“You haven’t fed in a while. I can tell by the way your heart sounds,” she says matter-of-factly. 

You’re annoyed you can’t hide anything from any vampire. 

“I know. I couldn’t feed when Elvis was away. I was too nervous and didn’t have an appetite for anything,” you say defeated. She nods her head, understanding how you feel. She then looks over at Elvis too, giving him the same analysis. 

“You haven’t fed either. You’re starving for her,” she tells him. 

You watch as Elvis swallows harshly when he looks over at you. 

“Yes of course. We’ve just been a little busy and haven’t had the time to,” he says uncomfortably. Alexander and Iris exchange panicked looks. You don’t understand why they look shocked. Elvis was saying the truth about it all. 

“You haven’t fed from each other… at all?” Alexander asks. “Why aren’t you taking care of your wife?” He says looking at Elvis with disgust. 

Oh no. Not good. 

You stand up and step in front of Elvis and push at his chest as he looks at them with a deadly look in his eye.

“You do not get to accuse me of not taking care of my wife!” he barks over your head. “You better fucking watch it,” he growls.

“You left her unprotected and starved! Your only job for the rest of your life is to provide for her! You haven’t done that for her in this new life of hers,” he snarls at him.

“Enough! Both of you!” You snap. They both have the same reaction and look down at the floor listening to your command.

“Stop this! Stop accusing him of being a terrible man, Alexander. You know nothing about him. I have drank blood! It’s not like I’m on the brink of death. I’ve just drank from blood bags… why is this a big deal?” You ask growing increasingly anxious and frustrated. 

“Well,” Iris begins to say nervously, “That’s the final step of your change, it’s to drink each other's blood, securing the bond for life. What you drank out of him while you were still human wasn’t enough. You have to be fully changed and then drink his blood to secure your bond to him.” She explains. 

You feel like you just got punched in the gut. It made you feel sick that you weren’t technically bonded with him. If you hadn’t started fighting with him, you wouldn’t be facing this dilemma. Another bomb hits you in the chest as you're sitting there worried out of your mind…

You can’t feel Elvis’ emotions like you did the first day you were changed. You can hardly feel anything. You go to sit down again, needing to calm down and get a grasp on this information. Elvis grabs onto your hand and you look up at him. You expect to feel the worry roll off of him but you don’t feel much at all. It scared you half to death.

“I can’t feel you… I can’t feel anything you’re feeling like I did before… it’s so faint.” You say scared. You look back at Alexander’s and Iris’ nervous faces. 

“Yeah… that’s what can happen…” she says low. “You need to bite each other and it’ll be okay. The longer you wait, the harder it is to restore your bond. You could have easily been able to be compelled by another vampire while Elvis was gone,” she says regretfully. 

Alexander nods in agreement, “that’s why we don’t like to be away from each other. You made to protect your other half. It feels physically ailing to be away for long,” he says gently. 

It made so much sense why you felt so lost and empty when he left. The other half of you was being ripped out of you. 

“When were you turned y/n?” Iris asks.

“May 17th,” you inform. She gives you both another wide-eyed look. 

“And that was the last time you drank from each other? That’s so long ago…” she says confused. 

“Well, I didn’t wake up for eight days after his bite,” you start to explain. 

“Eight days? That shouldn’t be possible…I don’t understand…” Iris says lost in thought. “The only way for the change to be interrupted was if someone else bit you but that can be possible…”

You feel your mouth turn dry at the memory. It feels like so long ago but it wasn’t. The last memory of Raphael biting you was excruciating and the most pain you’ve ever felt. You would always hate him even in death that he did that to you. 

“I was bitten by someone else,” you squeak out. They stare motionless on the couch, looking at both you and Elvis in shock. 

You hear a growl form deep in Elvis’ chest at the memory. 

“Who?” They ask in unison.

“The man that bit me, Raphael, abducted her and fed off of her, multiple times. He almost killed her along with her ex-fiancé,” Elvis seethes. 

Iris turns her attention to you to speak, “How many times did he bite you? Where did he bite?” She asks a little frantic. 

Your head feels a bit lightheaded and you have to take a few deep breaths before speaking. 

“Everywhere. His bite hurt so much. He bit deep and tore my skin so badly. I had ugly scars everywhere,” you tremble at the memory. You instinctively remember where he bit you. You had to look at those marks every day and shield them from Elvis in any way you could for months. You raise your hand up to your chest, feeling the phantom pain of where those bites were. 

You freeze. 

You had to be delirious with thirst or so in shock with all this new information that you could swear you feel the raised scar of the bite mark. You pull down the collar of your shirt and gasp. 

A prominent scar, a bite mark was red on your chest, the exact place where Raphael bit you. 

You look at Elvis horrified, you have no idea when this got here but it looks just like it did when you came back from the hospital. Elvis stares angry daggers at the scar as his breathing becomes ragged. 

“How long has that been there,” Elvis hisses. 

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know. I haven’t noticed it,” you say dazed thinking to remember if you noticed anything weird before. He moves your hair to expose your neck and growls loudly.  

“What does this mean!” Elvis snaps at Alexander and Iris. You raise your hand to cover your neck and feel the raised scar there too. You want to cry, this was all too much. 

They can’t look him in the eye, his anger was so palpable and coming off of him in heaps. It felt like it was choking you. 

“We don’t know exactly. I know for a fact that no one is supposed to feed from another person’s Chosen. That is heresy and that person would be killed for their actions. No one is even supposed to touch her except you,” she explains to Elvis. She cautiously stands up and lowers her gaze. 

“Do you mind if I take a closer look at your wife’s scars? I won’t touch her I swear,” she says timidly. 

“Fine,” he grumbles through his teeth. 

Iris makes her way to you and kneels in front of you to get a better look at the marks. You hear her suck in a sharp breath as she inspects them. You pull your shirt down to show her that mark too. She looks at you with sorrow in her eyes. 

“These bites… I don’t know how you survived them while you were human. These bites were vicious and cruel. It’s like…” she trails off lost in thought. You knew what she was going to say. You thought the same thing while he was biting you. 

“Like he was trying to mark me as his,” you breathe. 

She stays silent and nods her head. “This is so strange… I’ve only heard of something like this happening if-,” she says but gets interrupted by Elvis. 

“What does this mean? Why is this happening to her? First, she didn’t turn right away and now these bite marks are coming back? I don’t understand,” Elvis says frustratedly. 

Iris stands back up and is listening in thought. She paces a bit, collecting her thoughts. 

“Forgive me for the lack of clarity but… you killed Raphael for this, didn’t you? For doing all of this to her?” She asks him. 

“Yes of course I did. Cut his head right off,” he growls. Iris looks at him expectantly like she’s waiting for him to say more. 

She swallows harshly, “…and you staked him in the heart right?” She asks gently. 

You look up at Elvis expecting to see him nodding in agreement but instead, he turns three shades paler and his knees buckle to the floor. You grab onto his shoulder and try to get him to look at you. 

“Honey?” You shake him. 

He looks up and for the first time in a while, his eyes look dark. 

Deadly.

Vicious.

On the hunt for blood.

His breathing becomes labored and his fangs descend down. 

“You’re telling me, Raphael is alive?” He hisses. 

“It’s possible… and it looks like it’s true with these scars reforming on her body. He has a tie to her it seems. Only someone so cruel and vile would inflict this kind of harm,” she says lightly. 

“No!” Elvis yells, his fist slamming into the wall behind him. Pieces of drywall crumble down and a large hole is left behind. 

“I’m not entirely certain though. It is just a theory. It looks like a huge possibility though. He would need a lot of help to be brought back to life, but it’s possible. The only way to truly kill a vampire is to stake them in the heart, with an ash stake in particular. Certain types of wood hold mystical properties that will keep vampires dead. There is no way of resuscitating them after that and since you didn’t do that… he might be out there somewhere,” she says walking back to the couch cautiously, looking at him with his fangs exposed like he was dangerous. You had to agree though, he was dangerous when it came to protecting you. He would do anything for you and should be feared. 

“I-I-I didn’t know… no one told me and none of the legends go into that sort of thing…” he says scared. You try to recall the books you had been reading and you don’t remember any specifics of how to kill a vampire. You’re sure Elvis read every book there was and read it multiple times, he wouldn’t miss that crucial piece of information.

“It’s okay Elvis, it's not a widely known thing because we don’t want everyone to know how to annihilate us off this planet. Humans have always been superstitious about us and if they knew the one thing that can kill us, it would be a very hard life to live here,” she explains

Your stomach turned and felt like you could be sick. This was the worst thing you could hear. You had some sort of tie to that wicked, cruel man all because you let him bite you while you were human. You couldn’t believe any of this. It felt like the world was closing in on you and you were drowning. 

“We’ll figure out what to do together. It’ll be alright. It’s not like he knows where you live,” Alexander tried to reassure. 

“Everyone knows where I live you fucking-,” Elvis starts to yell but you quickly get up and try to stop him. 

“Honey stop stop! It’s alright, it’s alright. We’re going to be fine,” you say trying to calm him down, He looks at you like he doesn’t believe a word you just said. Frankly, you don’t believe a word you said either. You had no idea if it was going to be okay. 

“What do we do?” Elvis asks them. 

“He’s going to come looking for her eventually, so it’s best to be prepared. Keep your guys on watch and keep everyone strong. So that means you two need to feed and complete your bond. That will help you get stronger and not let him have more of a hold on her or risk her getting compelled by him in any way,” Alexander tells you both. 

Iris grabs his hand and stands up again. 

“We should leave you alone for now. I know you both have a lot to discuss. We’ll come back tomorrow and we can talk more,” she says softly and starts to make her way to the front door with Alexander in tow. 

The front door slams and you both are standing there motionless, stuck in complete shock. Elvis looks like he’s about to collapse again. He slowly walks to the staircase and sits down on the third step. His face is in his hands and his long legs are stretched out. He looks defeated like this. Your heart dies to see him like this. 

You kneel in between his legs, “Honey, I-I’m so scared,” you whimper. He looks up at you and his fangs are gone and tears fall down his cheeks. 

“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry for this,” he sighs. 

“No honey that’s not true-,” you try to reassure.

“No. It is. I have put you in so much danger since meeting you and even worse, I left you alone for weeks, defenseless and starving. I don’t know why I keep fucking all this up with you. I’m so sorry,” he sighs.

“I understand why you left,” you say gently, “you were desperate for answers. I’m sorry that I started a fight that drove you to leave though. I’m sorry for that. I wish you could have told me how you felt in the beginning. I didn’t know about any of that you said in the living room,” you say sheepishly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence between you two and Elvis continues to not look at you. Your heart thumps nervously, waiting for him to say anything to reassure you.

“It was too sickening to admit to you. I couldn’t look at your face when I said it,” he pauses to look at you. “I can’t take any of it back but if it changes anything, I’ve loved you the second I saw you. I was too afraid to admit it, so I did some shallow things, and I’m sorry for that,” he sniffles.

Your heart breaks as you watch him sit there. You reach for his hand and squeeze it lightly.

“We’re not perfect, but I believe you. We can’t change the past… I know your love for me has always been stronger than I can possibly imagine,” you say softly. He lets go of your hand and wipes his face.

“I’m an idiot… I can’t keep doing this to you. You’re in harm's way yet again,” he pauses and looks at you for the first time. His eyes look like he’s looking right through you, “Maybe it would be better if you forgot all of this…compel you. Send you far away until I take care of Raphael once and for all and just start over with us…” he alludes.

Your heart stops. You stare at him blankly and can’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth. You stumble backward, not being able to be so close to him.

“E-Elvis…NO! What are you thinking! No!” You yell at him.

“I can’t cause you any more pain! And there is bound to be more pain with Raphael around! It’s going to kill me if he hurts you again! I can’t see that again,” he cries, grabbing your arm to still you. “I can send you with Iris and Alexander, I know they’d protect you-,” he continues.

“NO! I won’t let you do that!” You yell, getting up to your feet. “If you do that, I’ll never forgive you, Elvis! I promise you that!” You seethe, tears flowing down your face. 

He stands up too, looking at you intensely. You can’t help but hold your breath, too afraid of what he’s going to say next.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to put you out of harm's way,” he trembles.

“This isn’t the solution. I would never agree to that” you cry. “I swear I won’t forgive you if you make me forget a single detail!”

“Then what is the solution?! If he hurts you, or even worse, tries to kill you, I would die too. We’re meant to be together forever, tied together in our bond…the bond that I’ve only weakened being gone so long and not letting you feed…” he says mournfully. 

“Stop please, I can’t live without you either. Not even for a second! I would always feel this giant hole inside my heart if you had someone compel me to forget you. It would be the worst pain I could ever feel,” you shudder. 

You step closer to him with hurt eyes and an aching heart.

“We need to figure this out together, not pushing each other away. How many times do I need to prove that to you,” you say gently. He looks at you through tear-filled eyes and breathes slowly. You can feel the mood of the room drastically shift with the way he’s looking at you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him but there’s a small part of you that still trembles in his presence.

 He takes a small step closer to you, then another and another, just until your chests barely touch. 

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I felt so hollow without you these last few weeks… I don’t know how I would last another day,” he whispers, his lips so close to yours. You feel your heart flutter again, gasping for breath in his suffocating presence.

“I know,” you breathe, closing your eyes.

He gently caresses your arms, giving you chills down your spine. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for this.” He grumbles. 

His touch sparks the dimmed light inside you and you want to touch him too. He moves his face to the side of yours and runs his fingers through your hair. He sighs slowly then takes in a deep breath, taking in your scent. You feel like you could crumble at his feet. The slightest touch makes it harder and harder to breathe. His fingers slowly drag down the length of your hair and his hand snakes down to your waist. Your breath catches in your throat as he does this, not ready for his intimate touch. You feel his teeth graze your earlobe and slowly drag it down. 

Lord save me.

“Baby, I ache for you…” he gasps. You pull your head away from his and you try to look in his eyes.

He flashes his golden eyes to you and makes you weak.

“Fix me,” he whimpers.

“Y-you don’t… I don’t unders-,” you tremble as you feel him pull your body flush to his.

“Make me whole again… Please,” he sighs squeezing you tighter. “Forgive me for all of it.”

Your breathing feels ragged and like an involuntary reaction, you pull at his arms to hold you tighter. He places a kiss on your cheek and you feel the heat linger there. His hand tangles in your hair again and you feel him become more desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I know, it’s okay,” you say back.

He quickly picks you up by the back of your knees and lifts you off the ground, carrying you up the white carpeted stairs. He looks at you in his arms like you’re a wounded bird he found on the side of the road. His eyes bled so much sorrow and shame. They might appear golden right now, but underneath there was this cold, blustery storm inside of them that he was battling by himself. 

He pushes open the bedroom door with his back and shuts it with his foot. He walks over to the bed and places you in the middle of it. You realize this is the first time you’ve laid in this bed since coming here. You didn’t want to get in it with Elvis around. He sits next to you, observing every inch of you as you lay there. He brushes your hair off of your chest and exposes your neck to him. You instantly cover up the scar mark with your hand. 

“Forgive me,” he whimpers again, pulling your hand away from your neck. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe. 

He scoops his hands underneath your back and gets on top of you. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his torso, wanting him closer. He grumbles delightfully, relishing in the closeness. 

“Feed on me,” he says in a breathy voice, “then let me make love to you. Please,” he begs. 

“Honey I-,” you begin to say but he cuts you off with a kiss. This kiss was like no other. It was meaningful, passionate, and intense with fireworks exploding in your mind when you felt his lips. Oh how you missed his lips, those perfect plush lips that have you needing more. Your hands tangle in his hair, wanting him to stay close. You breathe in his scent, realizing how much you missed that too. 

“Please,” he begs.

He takes his lips off yours and covers your cheek with kisses. He stops when he reaches your neck and you freeze. You didn’t want him to look there ever again. His thumb glides gently along the scar. 

“Honey I’m so sorry,” he begins to say. 

“Please don’t look. It’s too much,” you whimper. 

He doesn’t listen of course and starts to lift up your shirt to see the other marks. You had to look away from him, you couldn’t watch his reaction yet again to those horrendous scars. You can feel his fingertips trace over the marks in a calculated and precise manner. You sigh and try to get him to touch you anywhere else but he’s much stronger than you and won’t budge. He slowly starts to cover your torso in warm, wet kisses, trailing up to your breasts and you melt away. You feel your heart start to race, getting even weaker the longer his mouth is on your skin. 

“Feed on me,” he says low as you feel his hardening length press against your core. You grumble at the sensation and moan softly. You pull his neck closer to your mouth and try to focus. You place a kiss on the spot you want to bite and hear him groan slightly. You try to get your fangs to descend and feel the pull of his scent to beckon you for more. You feel your teeth sharpen and your sensations get overloaded with need for him. You place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him closer to sink your teeth into him. You pierce his skin and he groans heavily. His blood spills into your mouth and it tastes like heaven. It’s better than you remembered and all the blood bags you drank put this to shame. He tasted so sweet yet savory. So satisfying and yet you’ll always need more. 

You groan as you swallow mouthfuls, feeling so content and happy. You feel his hand slither down to the button of your pants and undo it, sliding the zipper down too. He feels your heat radiate from your core and puts his hands into your panties. You hold onto him tighter, knowing you’re going to be ultra-sensitive when he touches you. His fingers find your clit and rub it in soft, concentrated circles. 

A fire ignites in you and you groan. You weren’t going to stop feeding until he told you to. You hadn’t felt pleasure like this in your entire life. It was strangely erotic, the way you wanted his body and his blood to appease the undying need for him. You hold him tighter, as you feel his finger tease your entrance. You were wetter than expected and he groans softly. You moan into his neck and carefully take your teeth out of him. Your entire body felt like it was tingling, buzzing with an electric wave that flowed between you and him. 

He lifts up his head and hovers over you. His eyes drink in your needy body as you gaze at the bite mark you left on him leaking with blood. It made you thirsty again. He pulls your pants down swiftly and uncovers the remaining scars left behind. 

He trails kisses up your body until he’s back at your lips. 

“Can I make love to you now? Please,” He asks softly. You feel your heart fly out of your chest by the request. 

All you can do is nod your head and tear at his shirt, ripping it clean off of him. He would normally make a snarky comment about how that’s his favorite shirt or something but not tonight. The mood is very different in here. He sheds his pants off and climbs back on the bed with you. His hand rubs your tummy lovingly and looks up at you with care. 

“I need you,” he whimpers. 

He doesn’t have to say much else to drive you crazy. You put your hands on his hips to get him closer. He gently rubs his length through your wet folds, causing both of you to groan. You were more sensitive than you were expecting. Every sense inside you was heightened and you can only imagine this is going to be like the first time he fucked you. So completely overwhelming and needy. 

You watch as he teases you, covering his tip in your wetness. You squeeze your eyes shut and groan in agony. You can’t help but ball the comforter in your fist as you anticipate him entering you. 

“I’m gonna love you nice and slow, okay?” He says low and sultry. 

Please God yes! Please love me! That’s all I want, your brain screams. 

You pop your eyes back open and nod your head yes. 

That’s all you can do, there aren’t any words that can be said out loud. And with that, he pushes his cock inside you. He felt so good, it had been so long since he got to do this. His bedroom eyes are heavy with lust as he watches you underneath him. 

He places a kiss on your lips, groaning as he does so. He pushes in a bit more, your entrance stretching around him as it makes you gasp. 

“Oh God,” you groan into his mouth, your fingers scratching down his back. 

He places a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. These touches can send you to heaven and he knows it. He kisses you more and each one leaves you more breathless. His hips move like only he can giving you more of his cock. 

There was so much urgency but also tenderness from him. The way he was loving you was like his life depended on it. Maybe it did and he needed you this much.

“I missed you,” he groans into your ear as he moves deeper inside you.

You can’t handle him, he is making you a total puddle underneath him. You continue to hold onto him tight and enjoy every second of this. Elvis places a kiss on your forehead before looking at you with a familiar glint in his eye.

He was starving.

It made your heart gallop uncontrollably and quite frankly, it made you starved too. You could wait though, you wanted to take care of him too.

“Bite me,” you whimper. He responds with a groan and plunges his length fully inside of you making you cry out for him. Your walls squeeze around him momentarily as he moves more inside of you. You need to gasp for breath as each thrust of his makes you immeasurably weak. Looking up at him stunned, he continues to gently swivel his hips into you and makes you moan his name louder. He can’t help but smirk when he watches you get physically pleased by him.

“Honey please,” you beg him, trying to get him to lean back into your neck. He doesn’t listen to your directions right away, there is this restraint to him. You sense that he’s timid and shy throughout all of this.

“I’m starved, honey. I don’t want to hurt you,” he says weakly. You claw at his arms and moan frustratedly.

“Please, just bite me. I can take it,” you groan.

His chest heaves as he looks at you and he grabs a hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. It was like a switch flipped and the mood of the room shifted dramatically. You can feel how needy he has become and how hungry he is for you. 

“Fuck darlin’, I needed to hear that,” he groans. His hips grind into you harder making that coil inside you tighten with every thrust of his cock. He looks at you so intensely and keeps his slow pace that is agonizingly satisfying for you. You bare the side of your neck to him and hope he takes the hint to bite you there. 

You close your eyes and feel his teeth gently sink into your neck, making you suck in a sharp breath. You don’t know what to expect but you know it wouldn’t be painful like last time. And you were right. This strange frenzy develops inside you and your pleasure skyrockets. You loved how he felt drinking from you as he buried his cock deep inside of you. You couldn’t get enough of this and you could feel how much he loved this too. Your heart soars knowing your bond together is only strengthening. Elvis groans deeply as he drinks your blood, his grip on you getting tighter. 

He pauses and takes his fangs out of you. 

“Oh honey, you are so delicious,” he grovels. 

“Take more baby,” you tell him breathlessly. 

He licks his lips slow and sultry, thrusting into you a bit faster. He concentrates on your pleasure and the faces you make because of it, wanting to see you fall apart. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, "fucking mine." He goes back to sink his teeth into the top of your breast. You gasp as he squeezes and sucks on it. He quickly takes his length out of you and you groan in agony, your walls fluttering in need of him once more. He trails kisses down your breasts and moves down to your tummy, biting there and groaning. Every kiss and bite from him was so overwhelming. Pleasure skyrocketed through you and couldn’t help but cuss his name. You knew what he was doing, he was trying to mark you as his in a very apparent way. You believed it, your heart and soul knew it but for anyone else that might glance your way, he wanted them to know too. You moan his name and look down where he’s going to bite next. He examines the scar on your thigh and grumbles displeased. He takes another bite there, squeezing your thigh tightly and groaning when he tastes you. 

His bite marks that he made were left leaking and spilling onto the sheets. You had to pray they would heal quickly and everything was going to be alright. Elvis licks up your thigh and looks at you once again. His eyes are much more soft and his demeanor is calmer. Lastly, he takes your wrist and bites there, grumbling to himself pleased at the taste of you.

“Thank you, honey,” he sighs, “I can feel you again. I can feel how much you loved that.” He says relieved.

“Mhmm me too,” you smile at him, feeling his heart soar with happiness and relief. You pull at his arm and make him get closer to you.

“Please, I need you,” you moan.

He gives you a soft smile, “what do you need baby?” He says low, his voice gruff and sultry.

“I need you back inside of me,” you beg.

He nods his head at you and grabs onto your hips tightly, pushing his cock into you with a groan. You cry out for Elvis and writhe under him.

“Jesus mama you feel so damn good,” he groans, continuing to thrust slow and concentrated. “So fucking wet for me.”

With the way he feels and those lust-driven words coming from his mouth, you can’t hold on much longer. You wanted him to make you come apart. He looks so good while he fucks you; his hair tussled against his forehead, the low groans he makes when his cock is deep inside you, the way he lets his head fall back to the ceiling as his eyes roll back in pleasure. His neck was perfectly bared for you to bite him. You wanted him so desperately, that it made it hard to breathe. Your hips match his thrusts, needing him to fuck you harder. You look at him with pleading eyes and it’s like he heard your thoughts when you feel him move a bit faster and rub your clit.

“Fuck yes,” you cry out.

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you come,” he beckons, thrusting deep inside you. He pins your arms down again and nips at your neck. 

“Come for me, please,” he growls in your ear. ��I need you.”

You gasp at his words and beg him for more. He groans deeply and fucks you harder, making you see stars. Your walls squeeze around his cock and rock into every thrust he gives you. Every limb tingles with pleasure and you moan loudly for him. It felt so different than the last time you were with him. You were so much more sensitive now and craved him like never before. He takes in a sharp breath through his teeth and moves slower in and out of you.

“FUck, sucha good girl. I want to come deep inside you now,” he groans loudly. You need him to do that, the way his body ached for you was overwhelming, and wanted him to feel pleased like never before.

You twist your arms out of his grasp and it surprises him you were able to do so. You grab onto his shoulders and push him to the side, making him lay on his back quickly. You sink down on his cock once again and groan when he fills you again. He looks up at you wide-eyed and needy. His chest heaves and he grabs onto your hips to help you ride him. 

“Shit baby yes, nice and slow,” he groans, rocking your hips back and forth on him. You gasp and nod your head at him, grinding slowly on his cock.

You cup your breast in your hands and roll your nipples in between your fingers, sending a zing of pleasure through you. Elvis can’t tear his eyes off of you and you can feel him grow desperate for you. You tease him, touching yourself more and making him watch. You look down at your hardened nipples and see the blood spilling from the bite mark he made. Your finger swipes up the trail of blood and place it to his lips. He opens his mouth gladly and swirls his tongue around your finger, sucking on it to make sure he licks all of your blood clean off. He groans and his eyebrows furrow as he looks up at you. Rocking your hips more, you know he needs to come. Your heart pounds away as you watch him and you feel his cock pulse deep inside you, groaning your name as he comes. You move faster and he holds onto your hips. His hips move off the bed to meet every thrust you give him making you want to come again.

“Fuck baby… so good, so good,” he whimpers. You smile pleased that you have him so weak for you.

You lean down onto his chest and make him bare his neck to you. This incessant thirst you have for him consumes your thoughts and you take a bite from his neck, sucking his blood happily. You hear him growl low and moan your name again.

“Good girl,” he whimpers. You take a few more gulps and take your mouth off of him, needing air. You felt so light and weak and yet, stronger than ever. It was such a strange sensation and you can see Elvis feels the same. He wraps his arms around you tightly and keeps you on his chest.

You both lay like this for a while, not wanting this moment to end. 

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear.

“I love you too,” you sigh.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he says softly.

“I know,” you say. You didn’t want to think about the future, you just wanted to live in this moment with him forever. You had to have hope that his words were true, everything was going to be alright and you both could have a peaceful and happy life together.

You push yourself off of him to look into those beautiful eyes of his and he smiles when he sees your face.

“The bite marks I made are healed honey,” he says pleased, rubbing his thumb gently along your neck.

“Good,” you smile. You start to get off of him to lay next to him but he stops you and keeps you on top of him.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you,” he says devilishly. You feel your heart skip a beat and he pulls you close again, covering you in kisses.

*

*

*

Tagging : @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy_

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887@burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[bcofl0ve]

Invisible String (Part 1)

(part 1/9)

ship: austin butler x fem!reader

summary: a summer fling when you were working on the set of the shannara chronicles turned your life upside down with a positive pregnancy test after austin returned to the united states. a pregnancy test, and a daughter that you never told him about. until the elvis biopic found him back in your orbit and forced you to face the music.

word count: 2,600

authors note: yes i know the shannara chronicles was filmed in new zealand but this is my au and i can do what i want so we’re pretending it was filmed in queensland. covid also doesn’t exist in this story, because i said so, hence the filming schedule being one of my own making.

i live for comments and love talking about my writing, pls feel free to pop me an anon anytime!

xxx

April 23rd, 2020

"You interested in working in film again?"

You raised an eyebrow at your best friend sitting opposite you on the couch, pausing short of tossing more popcorn into your mouth from the bowl between you.

"Is there a reason you're asking?"

She chuckled, lowering her voice and leaning over to you, a playful smile on her face.

"A little birdie told me that one of the lighting assistants at Elvis had to resign because of a family emergency and they’re desperate for a replacement.”

Leah was clearly getting a kick out of this, and you wanted to kick her for it. Knowing Elvis was filming in your area and that there was a non zero chance you'd run into Austin on the street was enough of a headache, let alone having to skirt around him on a daily basis.

"I can't work there, you know that." You said flatly, and Leah only shrugged, cocking her head.

"Do I? It's just tech work, not like you'll have to interact with Austin that much anyways."

"That," You started, nudging your head towards a framed photo of you and Cora on the coffee table. It was taken on her fourth birthday, the blue eyed little girl sitting on your knees, head of blonde hair tucked into your shoulder. "happened when I was just doing tech work. I can't Leah,"

It wasn’t that you’d take any of what happened that 2015 summer back, you were quick to tell anyone that your daughter was the best thing that ever happened to you. But some things, her father in particular, were better left in the past.

"How much are you making right now?" Leah asked, pulling out her phone as she talked. "Because this is what Elvis is paying."

Your eyes widened when you saw the salary listed on the email she’d pulled up, nearly triple what you were making at your current gig running lighting for a local news station.

"You go, you do your lighting thing, you come home. If you wear a hat and your bluelight glasses Austin doesn't even have to know you're there."

---

April 30th, 2020

Against your better judgment you inquired about the position, and Leah must’ve been right about how depeserate they were for a replacement because you got a call within a few hours asking for the earliest date you could start.

You followed Leah’s advice of trying to alter your appearance just enough to maybe pass as someone else to Austin, your hair tied up and pushed through a baseball cap, tan rimmed bluelight glasses that you typically saved for long hours on your laptop perched on your nose.

And the get up wasn’t even necessary. You’d spent your first day helping with lights for scenes with Tom Hanks in a conference room setup, overhearing that it was a dance rehearsal day for most everyone else. By the time the day was over ditched the glasses and cap, assuming you were safe from running into Austin at least for the time being as you put equipment away.

"Hey there.”

You could've screamed when you heard his voice from right behind you, flinching and dropping the cords you were wrapping.

Austin was apologizing as you turned around, and you swallowed as you got a good look at him. He looked drastically different than he did four summers ago, his hair short and black as opposed to the blonde waves that used to fall at his shoulders. His face hadn't changed much though.

The blue eyes that matched the photo of your daughter on your lockscreen made you want to bolt, but the window of opportunity for that quickly shut as he kept talking.

"I just," He started nervously, pushing a hand through his hair. "Y/N, right?"

"Yeah, that’s me." You said and forced a smile. Austin laughed.

"Okay good, this would be so weird if it wasn't you. It's been, what, four- five years? Wow,"

He gave you a one over and you hoped the flush you felt wasn’t showing up too obviously on your face.

"And look at you, Mr. Presley himself." You tried, leaning back against the table as Austin let out a breath. "I'm still wrapping my head around it all. But how you've been?"

"Not too bad,”

Your phone buzzing saved you from thinking of what else to say, except the voice of Cora's day care coordinator on the other end was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. Austin was still standing there when you hung up, something you hated because now you were close to tears and could think of about twenty ways this whole debacle could go from bad to worse.

"Everything okay?"

Austin’s voice cut through your panic, and exacerbated it.

"That was my daugher's daycare.”

The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them, heart hammering in your chest as you kept talking, snatching the cords you'd dropped off the floor and putting them back on the table in a frenzy. "She said something about stitches, St. Vincent’s Hospital. My car's in the shop, I need to get a Lyft,"

There wasn't one rational reason you were telling Austin any of this, just that you were a panic talker. You recognized somewhere in the haze of worry that you needed to stop talking before it bit you in the ass, though you recognized it a little too late.

"I'll drive you."

Those three words snapped you back to reality like a rubberband, and you shook your head as you brushed past Austin to walk away.

"You can't do that, you'll get recognized,"

You were already past him, but heard him rustling through his bag and before you could protest anymore there was quiet "No, come on," and he was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, a hand on your back as he ushered you in the direction of the parking lot.

---

The car was quiet as he started driving save for the heavy breathing you were barley managing to get under control. Austin pulled to a stop at a redlight, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he spoke lightly.

"So you have a daughter now?"

"Yeah who apparently cracked her chin open on the playground.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out so bluntly, mumbling an apology that he told you not to worry about. The rest of the drive was silent.

When he pulled up to the hospital you jumped out the second the car slowed enough for you to do so, spotting Cora’s daycare director in the lobby and making a beeline for her. Assuring you she'd only left Cora alone long enough to meet you, she took you down the hall to her room.

And you didn’t notice Austin had followed you in until you saw the other woman’s eyes widen when she brushed past you to leave.

"Hiya," He said, southern accent intact and you'd find it funny if you weren't all standing in the hospital for his daughter that he didn't know existed.

Leaving them both in the hallway, you rushed into the hospital room so fast you didn't bother to shut the door behind you. Cora was groggy from sedatives but reached out when she saw you, tear stains still on her cheeks.

“Mommy, ouchie,”

"I'm here baby.” You said as you scooped her up, kissing her head and pulling back to look at the line of stitches in her chin. "I'm sorry you got hurt,”

"Who's that?"

She interrupted you, pointing a finger towards the open doorway. Austin was still in the hallway, except the coolness he'd had with the daycare director was gone and replaced with a look that you’d spent the last four years terrified of. His pupils were enlarged, hand over the bottom of his mouth. He dropped it when he realized you were looking, but his expression didn't change.

"That's just a friend from work who drove me here," You said through the growing lump in your throat, unable to look back at him. "I'll be right back, okay?"

After setting her back on the hospital cot and covering her back up with the provided blanket you walked out of the room, remembering to close the door behind you this time.

“You don’t have to stay, I have to call someone to pick us up anyways because she needs a carseat,”

You tried to steer away from the inevitable, but Austin didn’t waste any time.

"Y/N, how old is she?"

His voice was tight and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, staring at the floor like you could will it to open up and swallow you.

“Austin,” You managed to croak out, and the indignation you could feel radiating off of him made your eyes sting.

"You know not answering is an answer in itself, right?"

Forcing yourself to look up, you squeezed your eyes shut and back open, hoping it was enough to keep yourself from crying in front of him. "I can't do this here." You started. "I need- I need to get her home. If your number hasn't changed l'll call you when she's in bed,"

He nodded, giving you a terse “Alright then.” before turning to walk away. When he disappeared around the corner you let a few tears fall, wiping them away and feeling nauseous as you pushed open the door to go back to Cora.

---

Your head was still spinning by the time the doorbell rang at eight o’clock that night. And when you opened it to Austin you cleared your throat, bringing a hand to grasp the doorframe.

"If you're going to yell at me we need to take this outside, Cora's asleep." You said and his eyes widened a little.

"I'm not gonna yell at you."

Your back was to Austin after you let him in, but you could sense him looking around. There was evidence of your daughter everywhere, photos on the wall and toys you hadn't had the energy to pick up given recent events scattered around the floor. When you reached the kitchen and did turn to look at him he was popping his knuckles.

Taking the bar stool you pulled out for him, he sat as you walked to the other side of the counter.

"So she's gotta be four, right?" He started before you could say anything, eyes falling away from you and to a photo on the wall. "And she's-"

"She's yours."

You cut him off, biting the inside of your cheek. "If you want a paternity test we can do one, but that summer, there was no one else."

"Workin' on Elvis, were you just hoping we never ran into each other? I don't get it." He stated, gesturing aimlessly.

"The friend who sent me the application practically had to force my hand, I didn't want to. But the money, this is more than I'm making anywhere else, being able to send Cora to a good pre-school in the fall,"

You hated that your voice was shaking, along with your hands, where you’d clenched a fist without realizing it.

“I decided it was worth taking my chances."

"And when you found out you were pregnant- you didn't think to call?"

The truth was that you had thought to call, briefly. But a tabloid hard launch of Austin getting back together with his ex girlfriend came before you bring yourself to dial his number.

"When I found out I was pregnant you were back in the states and back with Vanessa. What was I supposed to do?" You said, and you would’ve been a lot louder if you didn’t have to worry about waking Cora up. "Hey I know you just left, but you need to leave your girlfriend and fly back across the globe because the techie you had a fling with is pregnant."

"I would've."

You shook your head, shooting back bluntly.

"You wouldn't have."

If he truly did feel differently he didn't argue, chewing on his bottom lip for a beat before he spoke, his voice a degree softer. "You said her name is Cora?"

"Cora Jean. Thought she might go by CJ but she corrects anyone that tries, "I'm not Cee-Jay, I'm Cora.””

You couldn’t help a little smile as you imitated her, and felt your shoulders relax when you saw the hint of a smile on his face too.

"Who's there mommy?"

You turned when you heard the familiar pipsqueak voice of your daughter, your eyes finding her standing in the mouth of the hallway rubbing her eyes.

"Remember my friend from the doctor's? It's just him Cor, you can go back to bed."

Cora squinted for a second to verify that herself, walking a little further into the light. Satisfied with the confirmation, she rubbed her eyes with the hand not clinging to her stuffed koala.

“Night night mommy’s friend,” She said sleepily, giving a small wave.

Austin waved back, and you didn’t know if he’d wanted you to hear the quiet “Goodnight baby,” he said in response but it made your chest tighten either way.

"I don't want to keep you from her," You said when she’d disappeared back down the hallway, looking at your hands folded together on the table. "But having her splashed on the cover of People in some scandal story, paparazzi outside our house, that's a part of why I never told you."

A “part” was underselling the amount of nightmares you’d had from the time Cora was still in-utero about waking up to the fallout of one wrong person finding out about her parentage. You were sure there were people who drew their own silent conclusions , but you’d only told your mother and Leah yourself. The two people who you trusted wouldn't tell a soul.

How careful you’d been didn't stop your heart from stuttering when a stranger's eyes in the grocery store lingered a little too long though.

"I don't want that for her either. We're," Austin said gently, reaching a hand across the counter and laying it over yours. "We're gonna figure this out. You and me."

You nodded, wanting more than anything to believe that that was still possible after all this time.

----

Sleep didn't come easy for you that night, your mind racing as you laid awake staring at the ceiling. Just when you started to feel too tired to physically stay awake much longer, your phone buzzed.

Apparently Austin couldn't sleep either.

If it's not too much could you send me some photos?

You sat up a little, eyes heavy as you swiped open your phone, going to your camera roll and thumbing through the album labeled Cora Jean. The photos you chose ranged from across the years. Cora sitting in her high chair at only a few months old, grinning at the camera through the food covering her face, the two of you in your mom's backyard at her second birthday, a little video of her first dance recital, a photo her daycare had sent you her during art time, paint smeared across her nose.

When you texted the final selections, an ache bloomed in your chest as the gravity of it all finally started to sink in. Tugging the covers over your head, you willed yourself to crash and forget about everything for just a few hours.

xxx

[she-is-juniper]

Only Ones Who Know — an Elvis Presley x Reader slow burn series (chapter two)

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x f!Reader

Type: series (chapter 2 / ?)

Warnings: fluff, some angst, pining, long lost lovers, slow burn, a very intense sexy makeout, brief discussions of racial tensions

Prompt: You and Elvis grew up together; he was your best friend and first love, but he and his family moved away. Eight years later, Elvis walks into the diner where you work…and he doesn’t recognize you. But there’s an intense connection between the two of you. Should you let things between you play out organically, or should you tell him who you really are?

Word Count (by chapter): 5K 

Rating (by chapter): M (mature)

A/N: Wow! I am so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter of my new slowburn series! I wrote chapter two here in the car on a road trip with my family (lol) so excuse the typos. Things get pretty steamy here but actual smut to come, I promise y’all.

I wrote this fic visualizing Austin!Elvis, but you could also read it with real!Elvis as well if you prefer. The events of this series are kind of a combination of real life events from Elvis’ life and the events of the film; thus, it may not follow the outline of events exactly as they appear the film. Inspiration for the plot more closely but loosely resembles real life documentations of Elvis’ life in 1956.

Please for the love of all that is holy, comment/reblog/send asks if you want to see more of my writing—thank you in advance! ♡, Juni

~ Previous chapter ~

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My first kiss with Elvis Presley was on the roof of his family’s house in Tupelo, under the stars of the Mississippi sky.

We were both thirteen, and he was my first love. Before that, he was my best friend, and before even that, he was just the boy next door.

But as I grew up and learned about the ways of the world, all the good and the bad, he grew up right beside me. We grew closer and closer. And by that summer, the summer of 1948, the War finally over…he was my everything, and I was his.

But that was back then. Now, eight years later, he didn’t even recognize me.

So what?

I left the benefit concert in a daze, with Elvis’s last words to me still ringing in my ears. “‘Meet me at Beale Street, tonight. Club Handy.” I took the bus home and changed as fast as I could. And I made my way to Beale Street. 

I was no stranger to Memphis’s famous Beale Street—or infamous, depending on who you asked. Rich with history and culture, the bustling street was fueled by the memory of what it used to be and the hopes of what it might become. Increasing racial pressures from local coalitions and government entities threatened the commerce of Beale Street and the security of its people, but that didn’t stop its shop owners and patrons from persevering as they always had. 

Beale Street was alive tonight. Music sounded from nearly every joint. And it felt like home to me, for the music that was birthed there was the music I grew up surrounded by. 

The Independence Day excitement in the central city, where the benefit concert had been, must have transcended to the southside, where flocks of men and women filled the streets with invigorating zeal and a hunger for excitement. Every club was full, packed to the brim with dancing bodies and the beat of the drumset or the crowing of brass. There were so many people on Beale Street that they spilled out of the clubs’ entrances, doting each other on their arms, sweating and laughing and dancing.  

I shouldered my way past the crowds on the sidewalk, scanning left and right for a figure that stood out—because surely, a man like Elvis Presley would stick out like a sore thumb at a place like this, a place in which a white man became the minority. There was no sight of him yet, so I meandered my way to the entrance to Club Handy. It already had a long line of people waiting, who looked at me in annoyance as I pushed to the front.

“Back of the line,” the bouncer gruffed when I approached him. 

“I’m supposed to meet someone here,” I said, trying to sound convincing with a sultry tone. “So I was wondering if there’s anything at all I can do to cut the line here to get in?”

The bouncer gave me a once over, but he shook his head. “No can do,” he said. “Special performance tonight.”

I wondered who was performing. “Anything I can do to change your mind?” I asked, despite the glaring eyes of the people I had cut in line boring into the back of my head. 

“Wish I could for ya, miss. But if you’re not performing and you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in. Owner’s orders.”

I left the bouncer to stand by the wall under the enclave, feeling miffed. Of all the nights I was to meet up with Elvis, and it was the busiest night you’d ever seen on Beale Street. I had no way of knowing if Elvis were already inside or not, waiting for me. And if I didn’t see him again tonight, would I ever see him again?

I thought again about the way he’d kissed me in the crowd, and then again behind the stage. The yearning in his eyes. He had the same expression on his face as the one he’d had eight years ago when his family had left Tupelo. If he didn’t recognize me now, all grown up, he had to have felt the same soul connection that I felt. 

As if to answer my own question, a commotion from down the way caught my eye. Onlookers were gazing out toward the street, chattering with excitement. Curious, I peered out in the direction of their line of interest. 

A shiny Cadillac had just parked on the street. A crowd was already starting to form around it—mostly women, but a fair share of men, too, all of whom were buzzing with excitement about the man in the Cadillac.

Who was, of course, none other than Elvis Presley. 

He stood out—and not just because of the crowd, or the color of his skin in contrast to the rest. He glowed with an exuberance that was simply indescribable, albeit a different sort of glow than the one he’d had onstage earlier that night. He had changed into a shirt made a collared pink shirt made of intricate lace that would have looked ostentatious on anyone else, but on him, it looked exquisite. His black hair was perfectly slicked back. He regarded the crowd of fans warmly, shaking their hands and signing books, but he was scanning the street, looking for something. Or for someone. 

For me?

For me. 

Elvis’s eyes locked on mine. His whole face lit up like I was the only person in the whole world he wanted to see—which didn’t make sense, because in his mind, we had just met today. But that didn’t make it any less meaningful. My cheeks flooded with heat as he came striding right over to me. 

“Missy,” he said in that unmistakable Southern drawl as he approached. “You’re here.” 

It felt surreal again to be so near to him. “I thought you might already be inside,” I said in a rush. “But it’s packed. I couldn’t get in.”

“Oh, we’ll find a way in, darlin’,” Elvis replied. His eyes painted a lavish brushstroke down and up my body, soaking in my appearance, and I felt like I might implode. “Should be against the law to look that gorgeous.”

I glanced down at my outfit—I had changed, too, into a fitted dress with a wrapped v-neck bodice and a circle skirt, my favorite dress to go dancing in. And then I looked back at him, in his lace shirt and thin black trousers. 

“I could say the same to you.”

Elvis laughed, showing his white teeth, and the sound was so musical it could accentuate the sounds of the blues pouring out from every club. “We make a helluva pair, then, Missy.” His silly nickname sounded so good coming from his lips. I silently thanked Ray, the cook at the diner, for coming up with the nickname while in earshot of the rocker. It was a good cover for my real name, which Elvis would certainly have recognized. 

It felt so strange, living this alternate identity around Elvis as Missy. I found myself oddly freed by the notion of starting with a blank slate with him. He didn’t recognize me—so what? Missy could be anyone I wanted her to be. 

And Missy, I realized with a smile, wants to have a bit of fun with Elvis tonight. 

His entourage of fans caught up to him then, forming a growing crowd on the sidewalk behind him. Elvis smiled graciously at them, but he was attracting a lot of attention. A few of them were squealing, reaching out to touch his arms—

“E.P.!” The voice came from the doors to Club Handy, which had swung open, and a man was peering his head out. He beamed at Elvis. “That’s my man! Miles, let the guy in.”

Elvis beamed back, and suddenly he was grabbing my hand and leading me down. Before I had time to revel at the feeling of his skin on mine, he was dragging me through the crowd and up to the doors of Club Handy. “Is there room for the two of us?” Elvis asked. 

“Absolutely.” The man let us in, closing the door, and began to lead us up the narrow stairwell. “It’s so good to see you, man.”

“Always a pleasure, B.B.,” Elvis replied.

I gaped. B.B. as in… B.B. King?

“I’m so glad you’re here,” B.B. was saying as we approached the sounds from the club up the stairs. He then turned and extended a hand to me. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m—ah, call me Missy,” I said, shaking his hand. 

“Missy, you and your date tonight are in for a real treat.”

Life was beginning to take on that same hazy, fantastical quality I had felt earlier that evening at the benefit concert. The kind of feeling you get when you feel completely disconnected from reality, at the whim of the world around you, and all you could do is just watch your feet move on their own and try to convince yourself you’re not dreaming. But when we finally reached the top and B.B. pushed open the door to the club, the feeling of complete unreality was set in for good. 

The club was more packed as I’d ever seen it and nearly as hot as a sauna. But it was the kind of heat that made you feel energized, made you feel on fire with zeal. The ensemble of musicians at the front of the room amplified the heat with a sound like no other. The frontman was on fire, too, and once I spotted his makeup and attire, I immediately understood why Club Handy was so boisterous tonight; they were all here to see him perform. It was unmistakably Little Richard. I’d heard rumors of the flamboyant musician making the rounds through the bars of Memphis this summer, but seeing him in the flesh was a different level of Unreal. 

Elvis turned and smiled at me. “You been here before?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music and the crowd. 

“Once or twice,” I replied. My roommates and I have come a couple of times prior for music and dancing. But never on a night like this. 

B.B. led us to a reserved booth seat at the back of the venue. The air in the club was thick with heat and cigarette smoke and the smell of booze, but even sitting across from Elvis in the booth, all I could suddenly smell was his cologne.

“Who would have thought we’d have two of Memphis’s biggest stars gracing our presence on the same night?” B.B. King said. 

Elvis waved him off. “I’m getting away from all that tonight.”

“Hardly. I saw all your fans out there, E.P. They love you.”

Inexplicably, Elvis’s expression became bashful. “If only I had half the talent as this guy,” he said, gesturing to Little Richard on the stage, who was putting on an enthralling show for the little club.

“A man like Little Richard could have your talent four times over, Elvis, and he’d still never become a big shot the way you have. All because of the color of his skin.”

I listened as Elvis and B.B. engaged in conversation about the performer. There was a pitcher of alcohol, containing something sweet and made of rum, and I poured myself a glass. But before long, B.B. was standing up and bidding us farewell. 

“Enjoy your date,” he told me with a wink. “You know where to find me, E.P.” 

As he departed, Elvis scooted down the booth so he was seated right next to me. “This guy up there,” he spoke in my ear so I could hear him over the noise. “He deserves all the money and fame in the world.”

“He’s amazing,” I said in awe. “I can’t believe we got in tonight.”

“I’ve got my connections,” he drawled. 

“Clearly you do!”

We watched Little Richard, wailing his heart out as the band launches into a new tune, one you recognize as Tutti Frutti. “They’re calling him the Architect of Rock and Roll,” Elvis says after a while.

“They’re calling you The King,” I noted. 

Elvis shook his head. “They have it all wrong. Guys like B.B. and Richard, they’re the real kings. If I could let them take my place, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

I studied his face. There was a layer of something new to his expression, something I hadn’t seen this afternoon at the diner or during the performance. Something must have happened after the show. I wondered what it was. Did he get flack from his manager about the benefit concert?

His face now reminded me so much of the Elvis Presley I’d once known. The scrawny, shy kid from Tupelo. The one who used to run to my house to bring me half of his dinner when my family couldn’t afford enough for a meal. 

Such humble beginnings, and look at us now. 

He saw me staring. And he smiled. 

“I’m glad you’re here, with me,” he says.

“Why?”

“Because when I met you at that diner, I thought to myself that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t try to see you again.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “You’ve only just met me, you know. You could have found any other girl to dote on your shoulder.” I said it derisively, but with a sly smirk, so he knew I was flirting. 

And sure enough, it captured his attention like a moth to a light. He couldn’t take his eyes off my face, my smile. “Maybe so,” he drawled. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

“But you don’t even know me, Elvis Presley,” I accused him. “And I frankly don’t know you either.” Not anymore, at least. 

He pursed his pretty lips. “That’s the thing,” he said, his voice suddenly husky against my ear. “I feel as though I’ve known you a long, long time.”

Hmm, I wonder why? I thought bitterly to myself. “I’m just a girl who works at a diner,” I dismissed him. 

“But there’s just somethin’ about you…”

I couldn’t explain why, but the notion of Elvis’s attraction to me was equally as infuriating as it was compelling. Of course, I felt the same toward him, but for him to be drawn to me without a single thought in his daft head that he should remember who I am? I wanted to slap him. I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I just downed the rest of my glass with a big gulp and stood up.

“Where ya going?” he asked. I observed the fear in his eyes that I was leaving for good. But I just flashed my teeth at him. 

“To dance.”

Emboldened by the alcohol, I sauntered to the center of the club, feeling the burn of his eyes on my back. What with the dim lights, the crowded bodies, and the haze of smoke, it didn’t take long to become completely engulfed by the crowd.

I joined them in movement with the beat of the music. The movement came like second nature, especially under the influence of the booze. I didn’t care who watched, although as I danced and danced, I hoped it wouldn’t be long until Elvis came to his senses and caught up with me. 

Sure enough, after a while, I felt a tall presence from behind me, followed closely by the smell, a warm, sultry musk, and I knew he’d finally come to find me. I turned my head to look up at him through my periphery. He was tall, and by the sway of his body, I guessed that he’s had a couple of drinks of his own. 

And suddenly, we were dancing together. At first, I felt just the slightest of brush of his body beside mine as he finds his rhythm, but as the music progresses and the press of the crowd gets closer and closer against us, he has no choice but to press his own body closer and closer to mine. Still facing away from him, the both of us watching Little Richard up by the stage in appreciation, we carefully avoided each other’s eyes. But I couldn’t ignore the feel of his hips against my backside. And then, the feel of his hands on my waist. 

The tension between our bodes became so thick it was almost palpable. I rested my hands on his, giving him permission to press his fingers more firmly into my hips. 

Before long, my back was flush against his chest while we danced. The band launched into a new song, something slower, heavier, sultrier. Elvis took the lead, then, pushing my body away only to grasp my hand and twirl me around so I’m facing him. The man’s eyes soaked me up, drew me up toward him, drew me in, held me captive. I soaked up the sight of him as well. He looked so undeniably handsome, even with—or perhaps, especially with—the way the sweat glistened on his brow and how a lock of his hair had fallen out of the neat pompadour.

And then Elvis was moving with me again, effortlessly keeping time with the sway of the music, the motion of my hips. He smirked at me, a cocky, enrapturing gesture, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“Looks like you don’t need a stage to make those hips move, cowboy,” I purred. 

“Easy to dance when I’ve got a pretty gal to dance with,” he quipped back. His eyes, piercing blue and still lined with the residual blackness from his makeup from earlier, were hard to look away from. Not that I wanted to. He was easily the most charming, captivating man I’ve ever been near.

And he was very, very near, then, as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed his hand into my lower back, pulling my chest against his. I allowed my hands to snake up his arms, feeling his lean muscles beneath my fingertips. My heart hammered in my chest as he brought his other hand up to my face. His hand was so big that I could rest my cheek in the palm of it while his fingers curled against the hair at the nape of my neck. When I leaned into his touch, he tilted my body forward into a dip, exposing the skin of my neck and chest to the ceiling. He trailed his lips an inch away from my body, and then pulling me back upright, I felt his mouth against my earlobe. His hot breath sent a wave of chills across my body, despite the heat of the club. 

“Tell me your real name,” he demanded in a low rasp. 

“I’ll never tell,” I replied, my voice just as thick as his. I was suddenly aware of just how turned on I felt, with his hips against mine, his warm breath on my neck, his hands against me so surely. God, I suddenly wanted his hands all over me. 

“Why not, darlin’?” Elvis squeezed my hip, ever so slightly, but enough to make me melt like chocolate in his arms. 

“Because I like it when you call me Missy.” Surely, with the direction this was going, he’d be satisfied with at least that for a name to call me.

A name to call me when we…well…

Maybe the disorientation of my dissociation was slowly fading, because I suddenly had the delicious, terrifying realization of where this could go. 

“If that’s what you want, then, Missy,” Elvis murmured, his hips still moving against mine with that sensual rhythm. “I’ll call you anything you want tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” I cooed.

He chuckled a bit. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow can be whatever you want,” I said suggestively. 

His eyes widened. “Well… Tomorrow, I’ll insist on your real name. But tonight, Missy will do.”

We couldn’t make it to the end of the song. 

Elvis dragged me through the crowd, along a back corridor of the club I hadn’t seen at all when we first came in, which led to what looked like an emergency exit by the windows. It was dark and obscured from the view of the dance floor. And there was nobody here. 

Elvis kissed me for a third time. But it was less of a kiss and more of an attack of his mouth against mine, an attack I was more than willing to endure. He pressed me roughly against the brick wall and I lost all sense of reason as his lips assailed me with a harshness and yet a simultaneous softness I’ve never experienced before. I let out a little squeak of surprise, which he consumed with a wanton growl of his own. 

My silent wish from earlier came true, the wish to have Elvis’s hands all over my body. He touched me as if he were parched and desperate for the oasis of my body. I gripped at his hips, pressing him more firmly into me as he moved his lips to my neck. There was a shared feeling between the two of us, between our two bodies, partly the feeling of gratefulness for the sliver of privacy here in the dingy corridor, partly the feeling of intense and critical mutual need for the other. Whatever the feeling, it made me dizzy with desire.

“So gorgeous,” he groaned as he kissed my neck. I didn’t say anything back, couldn’t, the words seemingly caught in my throat where his lips were. They trailed up my neck to my ear, where his teeth brushed against my earlobe before he whispered, “You hear me, darlin’? You’re so beautiful.”

The only breathy response I could muster in return was his name. 

He was pressed against me so intensely that I was practically sitting on the thigh he had me straddling against the wall. The movement of his leg elicited a steady warmth in my body that pooled between my legs. I arched into him and clawed at his body, my mind completely blank of any thoughts except right here, right now, and…

“Wanna get outta here, luv?”

The meaning behind his words was a defibrillator to my heart. Reality crashed upon me. Where I had been existing in a haze all night, I suddenly became aware of the world around me, aware of Elvis’s body, aware of my own again. 

Aware of who he was, who he had once been. 

I stiffened in his arms. 

Elvis, readily listening to my body language, immediately leaned away. When he saw my expression, he took half a step away from the wall, and I regained my balance. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked. 

“I can’t,” I said. My heart was suddenly racing, and it wasn’t just from desire anymore. 

Elvis’s face dropped. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, darlin’,” he said softly. 

I gulped. “I know, it’s just—“ I scanned for the exit. “I—I just can’t do this, Elvis.”

“What d’ya—?” 

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before I was pushing away from him and heading toward the exit in a rush. But he grabbed my hand, gently tugging me back to him, not in coercion or with mal intent, but in confusion, in an attempt to glean an answer. 

“Hold on, hold on,” he said. “What happened? Was it something I said?”

“Thank you for the ticket to the concert,” I said, “but I can’t do this. I…I have to go.”

“Please,” he urged. “Don’t leave—Missy. Talk to me.” His scours my face for any semblance of an answer for what he’d done wrong. 

In truth, he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. I knew that, of course I did. But suddenly, I couldn’t bear to let him be with me under the l circumstances. I couldn’t ignore the pain that he didn’t recognize who I was. 

I could tell him. I knew I could. I could tell him, and he would know. And even if he didn’t recognize me, he certainly hadn’t forgotten. How could he have forgotten the way I had professed my love to him like a stupid kid?

But once he knew who I was, how could I face him now after where we’d left things eight years ago?

Meeting Elvis organically was an act of serendipity. And the shared connection we had was unlike anything else. But how could I let this go further without him knowing who I really was?

Before, I had felt confident stepping into the mystere of the Missy identity. But now, it just felt disingenuous to him. 

I couldn’t let myself give into the temptation. It wasn’t meant to be. 

“I have to go,” I said again sadly. 

It must have been something in my tone that led him to finally drop my hand. 

I gave him one last, long look before I slowly turned and left the club, leaving him alone in the smoke and the haze. 

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The Presleys were moving to Memphis. 

Elvis didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself. I’d had to find out through our classmates, who whispered the news throughout the hallways like weeds spreading through a garden. I didn’t even have to confront him about it to know that the rumor was true; he had been avoiding me all week, and that alone spoke volumes. 

I was thirteen. I was in love. And my heart was about to get broken. 

On the day the Presleys were supposed to leave, I concocted a plan. When my parents had gone to bed for the night, I snuck into the hallway closet and took the one decent suitcase we owned. I took it back to my room and started packing my belongings.

I snuck out the dusty window in the kitchen. And I hauled myself and the suitcase down the dirt street to the Presley residence. Parked in front of their house, their 1939 Plymouth was already loaded up with their trunks of belongings. 

The light to Elvis’s bedroom on the second floor was on. I gathered a handful of stones from the dirt road and threw them up to the window until he appeared in the frame, frowning down at me.

He was the most beautiful boy I had ever known. And he was leaving me. 

When he finally emerged by the back door, the first thing he said to me after a whole week of silence was, “You can’t be here, Y/N.”

“Yes, I can,” I argued.

Elvis looked furtively back toward the house. “No, you can’t. If Mama saw me out here talkin’ with you, she’d kill me.”

“I don’t care.” I gripped the strap of my suitcase tighter. Elvis’s eyes tracked the movement. 

“What are you doing with that?” he frowned. 

I straightened my shoulders. “I’m coming with you to Memphis.”

“You’re—” Elvis stepped over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders degradingly. “No, Y/N. You can’t come with us.”

My name came out of his mouth like a disappointed sigh. But I just ground my heels and gritted my teeth. 

“I’ll hitchhike to Memphis, then,” I insisted. “And then we can be together there.”

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said with a groan. He threw his hand to his forehead. “You have to stay here, with your family. And I have to go, with mine.”

“Yeah, but—” 

“We can’t be together,” he said definitively. “Ever.”

As his words sunk in, fat tears welled in my eyes. “But I love you, Elvis. We’re meant to be together.”

Elvis just stared at me. “You…love me?” His mouth formed a hard line. But I saw his eyes glisten, too. “You can’t.”

“But I do!”

“Go home, Y/N,” was all he said.

I heard his Mama, then, calling for him from inside the house. He looked back nervously, and then he looked at me. He shook his head as he watched me cry, but it looked like he was trying not to cry, too. And then he turned and went back inside the house. 

I sat behind the bush across from their house on top of my suitcase and cried as the Presleys loaded into their car that night, and without another goodbye, drove away to Tennessee, leaving their life in Tupelo behind forever. 

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: Hey babes ♥ How we doing? What are we all thinking!! Where will this go with Elvis and his childhood best friend?? Any predictions, thoughts, etc??

I’m dying to hear your thoughts about it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

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Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

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I’m probably missing a ton of y’all rip sorry just send me an ask to be added

[youaintnothinbuta]

i'll give you a cookie if you write something where reader is a budding singer and falls in love with elvis the pelvis and everyone, her family, manager, and even the media, are against their love because it would be terrible for her reputation, since she's the typical "good girl" (the kind who would sing here comes santa wearing a sweater) but then she tells everyone to fuck off and ends up with elvis

elvis - elvis the pelvis

Summary: ^^

Pairing: elvis or austin!elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2500

Warnings: fluff, swearing

MASTERLIST

A/N: hope you like!! Sorry if it’s a bit long, loved the idea and couldn’t help myself <3

————————————————————

“So, what did you think?” You asked, after giving your manager a look at a couple new songs you’d written, as your small team was working on producing your first ever full album, so far you’d only release singles and EPs, but with some new traction, you finally had a (barely) big enough audience to support releasing an album.

“Honey, all you’ve written about here— I mean, how many times can you sing about blue eyes and a deep voice, darlin’, they’re all clearly about Elvis.”

“Well, so what if they are? You always say writing lyrics from personal experience makes them so much more meaningful. Besides, he said he’d help me write some! Those ones won’t be about him.” You argued.

“Y/N, listen to me, you don’t have personal experience with him, I’ve been in the business a long time, I know he said he’d help ya, but honey, he’s only sayin’ that to be nice. And I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but he’s not looking’ for love, he doesn’t care. He’s got money, he can have anything he wants, don’t waste your time on chasin’ him like a helpless teenage girl.”

“It’s not like that! We talked the other day, I ran into him in—“

“Y/N I’m not going to argue with you like a child. He doesn’t even know your name, he sure as hell doesn’t know any of your songs and he’s only going to hurt you.” Your manger raised his voice, it was clear to you the argument wasn’t going anywhere.

“I see. Thank you.” You stated, leaving the papers with him and leaving the studio, driving to your parents house, as your whole family was going to have dinner together.

“Mama, he humiliated me, yelled at me in front of everyone.” You complained about your manager, whilst helping her with dinner preparations.

“I do want to support you, Y/N, of course, you’re my baby, but my job as your mama is to look out for you, I really don’t think you should be trying your luck with a young man deemed ‘the pelvis’, it’s nasty.”

You sighed. “Mama I—“

“Are you still going on about this?” Your older brother walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. “I’m not gonna have my little sister be seen foolin’ around with a man wearing eyeliner and shakin’ his hips around on tv, pretendin’ it’s entertainment.” He continued.

“None of you are listening to me.” You smacked your hand down on the counter, getting the attention of your family. “I know I’m not as big as he is, but I still know what it’s like to perform and we’ve all heard his interviews, if he believes he’s not doing anything wrong why shouldn’t the rest of us?” You tried your best to plead your case with your family.

“No, honey, you’re missing the point.” Your mama spoke. “We’re not just thinkin’ about your personal life, your career, it’s just takin’ off, you’re so close to havin’ a big break especially with a new album and being seen with him, it’d ruin that for you.”

“Wha— how?” You asked, jaw dropped at such a claim.

“God sake, do we gotta spell everything out for you? He’s filthy, Y/N, an out of control young man with too much money, makin’ a fool of himself on national TV, and you— you have such a nice, sweet, family style, you know, a real good girl reputation. If that gets ruined, you got nothin’. We’re just looking out for you.” Your brother added.

“You know what, just forget it, I’m not that hungry. I’ll see y’all another time, I’m going home.” You walked out of your parents home and to your car, driving off, home, to be alone.

How dare they? They got no idea. God, why do they have to say such things.

These thoughts amongst others flew through your head the whole drive home. They hadn’t realised how much they’d offended you, they didn’t even think what they were saying was so offensive, but the truth was, you and Elvis knew each other better than you let on. You see, you’d run into him, once, at a show, you were the smaller act going on before him, and you’d got to chatting a bit backstage and he was just the kindest, most sincere person you’d ever met. The pair of you kept in contact, often calling each other a couple times a week.

You decided to give Elvis a ring, besides, no one else would understand the whole reputation and media thing quite the way he would. You sat on your bedside, phone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hey, Elvis, it’s me.” You spoke.

“Oh, hi, honey, how are ya?” He asked.

“Uh, not too good, ‘f I’m honest. Mama, papa, my brother, my manager, even folks at the recording studio, everyone’s puttin’ so much pressure on me to keep this good girl reputation up, and I’m not saying I wanna be actin’ out or anything, but I just wanna be live my life. They say I’m tossin’ my career out before it’s even started.”

“Oh, honey, trust me, I know, I know exactly what you mean. Say, you had dinner yet tonight?” He asked.

“No, have you?”

“No, would you like me to come get ya, we’ll go get some dinner and talk about this?”

“Oh, I’d love that, so much. Are you sure?” You cheered, trying not to sound to excited.

Elvis chuckled at your excitement, “I’m sure, but I gotta warn you, it’s getting hard for me to go anywhere without those camera’s followin’ me.”

“I’m sure I can manage.” You replied.

“Alright, well, put on something nice, I’ll come get ya now.” Elvis said, his keys jangling in his hands, before hanging up.

Yes. yes yes yes, this is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to be seen with him, you wanted photos, news stories, anything you could get. You didn’t want this for selfish reasons or to show off, you wanted this to happen, you wanted your family and everyone else around you to see it, you wanted whatever ‘awful reputation’ that was gonna come from you being seen with Elvis, just to get it over and done with, out the way, so you could carry on with your life.

About 20 minutes had passed, you’d been rushing around getting ready, there was a knock on your door, undoubtedly Elvis. You opened up for him, greeting him with a smile and a hug.

“Hey, pretty girl, you look nice.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“Hi, Elvis. You look good too.” You smiled, stepping out your front door, locking it behind you. He offered his arm for you to take, walking you to his car. Elvis loved chatting, he loved talking about everything, anything that possibly crossed his mind. The little devil on your shoulder quietly whispered all the negative stuff people had said about him, while the little angel on your other shoulder told you not to listen to any of that. You really did believe actions spoke louder than words, and the fact that he offered to have dinner with you just so you could chat about what was on your mind was definitely boding well for him.

The pair of you pulled up to one of his favourite restaurants, a few gasps, double takes and camera flashes pointed your direction. You swallowed dryly, having second thoughts, as Elvis walked ‘round to open your door for you.

“If it gets too much, say the word and we leave, alright?” He said quietly, giving you a hand as you stepped out the car. You held his arm as more and more attention drew to him, him smiling for photos and saying hello to as many people as he could, leading you to the restaurant. Luckily, he’d predicted a gathering of people and called the restaurant ahead of time, letting them know he’d be coming, they seated you at a table in the corner, giving you some distance from the observant people around you.

The pair of you chatted, waiting for a waitress to come take your order. You explained to Elvis about how everyone is so concerned you’re about to throw away your just-now-blooming career, but if simply living is going to ‘destroy your reputation’ you’re not sure you wanted it. Elvis understood completely, he was a very good person to talk to, he gave you great advice, and told you he was always there for you, something you really needed to hear when it felt like everyone you thought loved you was against every decision you made.

A couple days later, you were back in the studio with your small team of people, working on this album. You sat down, pulling a book out of your bag, wanting to record a newly complete song that Elvis had helped you with, he even said he’d record one with you, if you wanted him to.

“What the hell is this?” Your manager slammed a newspaper down on the table in front of you, making you jump slightly.

“Elvis takes rising young artist Y/N /Y/L/N to his favourite restaurant for date night.” Was the caption of one of many images printed in this newspaper, of you and Elvis the other night.

“I—”

“—No. I work too damn hard for you, trying to make you into something, you know. And you deliberately ignore me, like I have no idea what I’m talking about! If I have to have this conversation again, I don’t think I can work for you anymore.” Your manager sighed, you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to bring up a new song Elvis co-wrote.

The next day, you were with your family, sitting outside in your parents backyard together, enjoying the weather, having lunch, until your father joined the scene, bringing to you a similar, angry conversation to the one you’d had the day prior.

“You went on a date with him? Y/N?”

Your eyes just about rolled to the back of your skull, so sick of hearing this.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know how many girls are going to despise you now? Because of this? Do you?” Your father continued, soon getting input from the rest of your family, you just sat there taking blow after blow, until you just about had enough.

“You know what?” You stood up from your chair, “You are my family, I’m supposed to be supported by you, but funnily enough, this entire time, the only person I’ve received any support from is Elvis himself. And yeah, I did go on a date with him, we’re going steady at the minute.”

You had no idea if you and Elvis were going steady, you knew there was something there, a little tension but, you needed some kind of counter argument.

“You’re going steady? With Elvis Presley?” Your sister burst out laughing, making your cheeks heat up.

“Yes, Y/S/N, I am. For god’s sake, just fuck off, all of you.” You left once again, this was becoming a recurring theme every time you tried to have a nice meal with your family.

You knew who you wanted needed to talk to: Elvis, of course.

Just ask him what’s going on between you, if he’s gonna hurt you, just get it over and done with. You conversed with yourself on the drive back to your own home, tearing up.

You rang him, trying your hardest not to break down in tears.

“Hello?” He picked up.

“Elvis, are we going steady? Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to start with that, I— uh, hi.” You sniffled.

“Are you crying?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. Did I not make this clear enough? I like you, sweetheart, a lot, I thought we were going steady.”

“Oh, oh that’s good! I thought so too.” You cheered through your runny nose and damp cheeks, making him giggle.

“Can I see you?” He asked.

“Like, now?”

“Well, yeah, if that’s alright for you.”

“Yes, yeah, that would be wonderful, Elvis.” You smiled.

Within 30 minutes Elvis had come over, you brought him inside and upstairs to your bedroom, where you sat and came clean to him, about everything people had been saying about him and how he was no good for you.

“They all want me away from you, in fact, they didn’t even know we’re as close as we are.”

“Me? Wha— Wha— is it because of the whole pelvis thing, because I—“

“Elvis, I know you’re not doing anything wrong. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Elvis the Pelvis, I mean. It’s just, I don’t know.”

“Tell me, darling, it’s okay, I’m sure I’ve been told worse.” He chuckled slightly, encouragingly, but in all truth, his heart was broken to know no one around you wanted you around him.

“They always go on about the— the dancing and the money and the girls and, and they think if I got close to you’d hurt me. They say you’re not the type of guy to look for love and I’d just be wastin’ my time.“

He gave you a look as if to say ‘go on.’

“They think you’re a bad influence on young people and that you’ll ruin my good girl reputation and, when you offered to help me with music, they said you were all talk and weren’t going to, really.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no, I— the press, fifty percent of what’s written about me is lies and the other fifty is half-truths. The girls— I don’t have any, well, except you. And, and I mean sure, I w’nt lookin’ for love but that don’t mean I didn’t find it. And I do mean it, I’d love to help you in any way I can.”

You just gulped shallowly, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this, I know how hard it is when it feels like everyone’s against you.” Elvis picked up your hands, holding them in his as he spoke.

“It’s not your fault, honestly, I just want to be with you.” You fiddled with his rings, dragging them up and down his fingers as you spoke.

He smiled, watching you play with his fingers, “I want that too.”

“Good, I told my family to fuck off because of you.” You laughed, weakly.

“Ain’t doin’ me any favours, are ya?” He stood up, making his way over to your turntable, picking a record from your collection and putting it on. He turned around, offering a hand to you, inviting you to dance with him. You wished the people around you could see this side of him, not the picture people painted of him, and how much of a gentleman he really was.

“By the way, I think my manager is going to drop me.” You laughed, making him stop in his tracks.

[blainesebastian]

i got you (ccg universe)

words: 2,757 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): would loooove to read your take on reader x protective austin. notes: this is part of the ‘coffee cart girl’ universe but can be read alone. masterlist on my sidebar! :)  warnings: some uncomfortable situations  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Despite the Elvis filming ending, that does not mean life completely settles down. There are interviews, events, dinners, things Austin is automatically invited to and included on and…by being his girlfriend, it makes you his continuous plus-one. And while that’s definitely something to get used to, you don’t exactly hate the vibe that the title carries whatsoever. You don’t go to everything but it’s nice to be included? Thought of—seen. There’s a space slowly being carved in Austin’s life where you can definitely fit. Especially with this whole movie script thing happening for yourself, you’re both figuring out how to manage your lives again, things are exploding in a good way…but it doesn’t mean it’s not a bit chaotic.

Leaving an audition building, you take in a deep breath as you pull your phone out of your coat pocket, your text message thread with Austin still open. You tap on his profile picture to call him, walking slowly down the street as the line trills. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as he answers,

“’Lo?”

Your face pulls together in a wince, you didn’t realize how late it was, “Shit did I wake you?”

He clears his throat and you can picture him shaking his head with that boyish look he has, half asleep, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. It’s adorable to think about for sure,

“No, I was just dozin’.” And that’s a complete lie but okay, “How’d it go?”

You hum, your head tipping back slightly towards the sky as your boots click on the pavement, “It was incredible—I mean, nerve wracking at the same time? You’re essentially finding a person to represent your thoughts and words and just…everything you’ve put into characters and their development together,”

You shake your head because you’re rambling. Austin’s obviously been through the interview process before and the auditions that come after that. He knows exactly what you’re talking about…and yet, it’s so different coming from your end. Writing a script, watching people actually want to fill the role. You’ve got a great producer who loves your work, an even better boyfriend who believes in you—it’s just hard to imagine that it’s all coming down to actually happening.

A movie of your script. Never would have thought that when you decided to run coffee on the set of Elvis. You know you’re lucky and that Austin helped a lot when it came to editing the script and reaching out to someone you could share your work with but…you’re also trying to lean into something he’s told you countless times: you deserve it.

“It’s surreal,” You finish with a laugh and Austin hums in response, you can hear the smile in the tone of his voice without even having to see him.

“M’proud of you.”

You smile, your stomach fluttering at the sentiment. You can’t wait to come home to him, crawl into bed, allowing him to draw you close and into a kiss. Perfect way to end a wonderful day. “Thank you.” It’s almost a whisper, something so genuine and intimate that it’s difficult to share outloud over the phone.

“I’ll be there in about ten, okay?”

Frowning and slowly coming to a stop, you shake your head, “Austin, I’m practically to the subway—you don’t have to pick me up.”

“Well walk back,” There’s some shuffling on his end of the phone, most likely making sure he has everything including a wallet and car keys, “It’s late Y/N, I don’t want you takin’ the subway.”

There’s this double-edged sword in which you want to tell Austin you’ve been taking the subway since you were a teenager and that it’s not a big deal—by the time he makes it down here to pick you up, you’d be home already. At the same time, your heart warms at the protective gesture.

Sighing dramatically, you turn to face the direction you just came from. “You want me to walk back?”

You can hear the ghost of a smile in his voice, “I want you to walk back,” He confirms, “We can find an ice cream shop still open on the way home—or grab a late-night pizza, whatever you want.”

Raising your eyebrows, you begin wandering back towards the audition building, switching your phone from one ear to the other, “Are you bribing me?”

“Definitely.”

A soft, amused laugh leaves your lips, “See you soon.” Before you end the call.

Regardless that it’s been a long day and you just want to be home, you’re touched by the fact that even though you woke Austin up and he has an equally busy day tomorrow to get rest for, he wants to make sure you’re safe. A smile tugs the corners of your mouth, shaking your head as you look down at your phone and tap the ‘Find a Friend’ app—he’s already on his way. And okay, you definitely wouldn’t say no to pizza, he knows you.

It doesn’t take long before you’re lingering outside the audition building, tipping your head back to look up at the structure. You still can’t believe all of this is happening—the fact that you not only wrote something that other people are compelled by but that it’s going to be filmed. And honestly? you’re not expecting some sort of box-office hit, you’re just honored that it’ll be in theaters and seen.

Austin’s support has been everything. That’s what really matters to you.

You tug on the handle of the building but it’s locked, which you assumed, so you lean against the brick and check your phone again. Eight minutes out. Humming to yourself, you look through social media (briefly, that’s still not something you’re used to) before putting your phone away. The street is pretty empty for the most part, except there’s this guy walking down across the way. Business suit, tall, blonde. Something inside of you makes you avert your eyes, one of those innate things women sometimes learn automatically when it’s dark and you’re alone in public. The only thing that makes you look up is the sound of footsteps getting closer.

This guy is crossing the street. You swallow, straightening your shoulders, trying not to look directly at him but he’s approaching you,

“Excuse me, you know where Grand Street is?”

Clearing your throat, you lean up off the building slightly, “Uh, I think it’s down two blocks.” You motion with your arm in the other direction, where he’s come from, which…doesn’t make you feel any easier.

He hums and nods, looking down the street and then back at you. His eyes definitely sweep over your form. “Waiting for an Uber?”

There’s this chill that dips into your stomach from the question alone, “Boyfriend. He’ll be here any minute.”

He smiles and there’s this moment where you think he might back off but he takes a step into your personal space, which causes you to take a step back right into the audition building. “I could wait with you; this isn’t the best area to be alone.”

You have no idea what possesses people to think like this and you can’t help but wonder what kind of man he is—does he have a family? Siblings? Did he happen upon you and see you alone and figured he could get away with something? Or was he out scoping the area just looking for someone he could harass? Either way, panic surges in your bloodstream. You attempt to get your phone out and walk away,

“He’s actually around the corner, goodnight.”

Before you can even take a step in the other direction, he grabs your shoulder, hard, and forces you against the brick which digs into your back. Your phone fumbles right out of your hand and clatters to the sidewalk. The thing is, you’ve taken self-defense classes before—you know how to kick, to throw a punch, what to do if someone pins you, and yet you feel utterly defenseless. Everything you’ve learned right out the window.

“You know, I was nothing but nice.” This guy snaps, suddenly all the supposed charm washed away from his voice.

There’s an attempt to push him away but he’s taller, stronger, can more easily manipulate your body against the brick wall. A strangled cry leaves your throat and all you can think about is the fact that he hasn’t hit you yet because one punch will knock you out, you know it. And Austin, he floods your senses in such a way that you almost cry out for him.

“Stop!” You screech, pulling at his suit and manage to rip a button off.

“You bitch, that was expensive.” He squeezes your arms so hard, definitely will be bruises, a choked cry escaping your throat as his leg slips in-between yours, forcing your knees apart.

His hand is moving and you panic, start clawing at him, anything you can—

A screech of car tires, suddenly the weight is gone, he’s pulled back from you. You can barely see through your teary blurred vision even though instinctively you know exactly who it is. Austin throws a punch, something hard that cracks, and the guy in the suit stumbles to the pavement.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Austin snaps, “Now.”

There’s a brief moment where the guy considers the opposite but he takes one look at you, spits blood from his mouth onto the pavement, and turns to briskly walk away.

Austin is quick to turn towards you, his complete demeanor changing as he gently touches your shoulders, “Hey look at me,” He cups your chin, running his thumb along your cheek, “You okay?”

The question is so simple and yet when you look up into those blue eyes of his you just burst into tears, the dam breaks wide open. There are the remnants of fear there but also just complete relief that he’s here, that you’re okay. Austin wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his chest and holding you as tight as he can without hurting you. The force of you clutching onto him almost knocks him a step back and he takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“Shh,” He whispers, stroking through your hair, “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Pressing a kiss to your hairline, he draws back just enough to help you walk to the car.

--

The car ride and walk into the apartment is quiet, Austin doesn’t try to ask questions or pry, just allowing you to soak into your thoughts and feel whatever you’re feeling. You appreciate it but at the same time, you almost wish he’d distract you. You know you’re teetering this line of…feeling so ridiculous and ashamed for allowing this thing to happen to you, especially since you’d almost boasted about being able to take the subway without any issues, and on the other hand—it could have been so much worse? So why are you so shaken up?

Yet at the same time, you understand that…stupid and pointless shit like this happens to women all the time and you can own your emotions—that you’re scared, still trembling, trying not to cry anymore. You shed your shoes and your jacket, feet padding against the tile as you make your way to the bathroom. There’s a large part of you that wants to close the door, hide, shut Austin out but you don’t. Can’t. Running a hand over your face, you glance at yourself in the mirror—a mess, bloodshot eyes, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed. Grabbing a washcloth, you run it under warm water before washing your face, Austin leaning against the bathroom doorjamb, soft eyes on you.

“I don’t need to hear ‘I told you so’.” You mumble, sniffling. You toss the washcloth to the side where the hamper is and you can feel rather than see Austin tense up because,

“Y/N, you know I’d never say that.” He gently reaches for your arm, fingers wrapping around your wrist. You hate that you wince, a kneejerk reaction moreso than pain.

Swallowing you turn towards him, not quite looking into his eyes, instead reaching for the fabric of his shirt to play with between your fingers. A grounding point for yourself—you’re unsure if you want to shower or just…crawl directly into bed and not get out for a little while. Maybe both.

Austin runs his hands along your arms, carefully, moving to tug your shirt over your head. You don’t protest, allowing him to set the fabric aside on the sink. You’re not looking in the mirror, but instead at your boyfriend’s face, and you can tell with the hardness like ice in the blue of his eyes and the tightness of his jaw that you must be beginning to bruise.

“Doesn’t hurt too bad,” You lie and Austin shakes his head, looking like he could hit that guy all over again.

Speaking of, you pick up one of his hands and run your thumb along the knuckles, pressing a kiss right above them. Nothing a warm washcloth won’t fix and then an icepack overnight. You have a feeling that his knuckles are the least of Austin’s concerns.

There are a few silent moments shared here, Austin picking up another washcloth and soaking it in cool water to ghost over the red marks on your arms and you decide a shower can come tomorrow, you just want to sleep. The whole late-night pizza thing kinda got derailed anyways and your stomach is in knots.

Putting lotion on afterwards, Austin brings you in one of his t-shirts to change into from the bedroom, lingering in a way that’s comforting. You change your clothes, taking your bra off and sliding the soft material of the shirt up and over your head. You swallow, pulling your hair out from underneath the fabric before rubbing the back of your neck.

“I just stood there.” You blurt out and his eyebrows draw together.

“Hmm?”

“Like I—” You shake your head, eyes flickering up to Austin’s, “I’ve taken self-defense classes and if you hadn’t been there,” Or had been five minutes later, “I just stood there.”

“Hey,” Austin’s voice is concerned and warm, reaching for you with it along with his hands, “It’s not your fault, alright?” A choked sound leaves your lips that sounds a little bit like a laugh because how can you not feel responsible for that? Even though deep down you know Austin’s right. Those classes are never quite like the real thing happening to you.

Austin breathes out, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. He runs his thumbs along your cheekbones, leaning down to press several kisses along your face—jawline, nose, forehead, cheeks, before pulling you close. His arms wrap around your shoulders, creating a cage against his body. You can’t help but close your eyes, breathing in the comforting scent you associate with him—sandalwood and something distinctly Austin.

“I got you,” He says against the shell of your ear, pressing another kiss directly below.

You nod your head, squeezing him, allowing yourself to slip into the warm safety of his embrace.

--

When nightmares visit you that night, and they’re worse than you can possibly imagine, Austin utters the same thing. You’re pulling at the sheets as you twist and turn, a small whimper leaving your lips as Austin wakes up and gently touches your side—

Jerking awake, you squirm away from his touch, breathing heavily in the dark, fingers dragging the sheets into your fists,

“Y/N, just a nightmare,” He murmurs, voice caked with sleep. There’s a distant feeling of guilt from waking him but right now you’re just trying to get your heartbeat to stop hammering in your ears. Running your hands over your face, you turn to face him, Austin’s hands running through your hair to pull it away from your skin.

“Just a nightmare.” Austin whispers, drawing you close with a squeeze of your hip.

Swallowing you nod, wiping underneath your right eye where one tear falls. You allow yourself to be drawn closer, fitting against his chest, under his chin. Your eyes fall closed with a sniffle, arm stretching around his slim waist and breathing him in, settling yourself.

“I got you.” He assures again, drawing circles into your back, breath warm along the shell of your ear. You memorize the calm pattern of his breathing, helping you with your own.

You believe him and it eventually lulls you back to sleep.

--

If ya’ll can’t tell by now, I  really love writing hurt/comfort lmao hope you enjoyed! :) thanks for reading.

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Moments like these | Austin!elvis

Warnings : super fluffy. mentions of alcohol . — I don’t really check my spelling so if something’s messed up I’m sorry!

I have never really written before soo pls criticize me with stuff but pls don’t be to harsh given this is my first time 💞

Austin!elvis x Fem!reader (I will also try to write with black fem reader in the future considering I am a black girl but this just fem reader todayyy <33

—————————————

Elvis hated a crowded space.

He loved privacy and spending time with people who were closest to him.

But he was in for a rude awakening when his friends from the Memphis mafia asked him if they could use his house to throw a going away party before his tour.

Elvis was never a party animal. He was pretty laid back and just enjoyed calm spaces.

So originally his answer was no. “I don’t want no goddamn strangers runnin around my house, No billy” was his first answer.

So the boys went to phase 2, which was you.

You were Elvis’s baby, you could convince him to do almost anything, but you didn’t want to force him to throw a party he obviously wasn’t comfortable with.

“What’s in it for me tho? Guys if he doesn’t want to do it just leave it alone! ” “Please y/n your the only one who could convince him to do anything” Billy tried to reason with you.

So after a while of almost the whole Memphis mafia nagging you, you finally said yes. So that’s how you are in this predicament, Your currently sitting in Graceland chatting it up with some friends while random strangers you’ve never met before wander around the house.

“Girl how did you even get Elvis to agree to all of this you know he hates parties” Zina, your friend spoke up

“Well it didn’t really take much convincin’ you replied back, You were telling the truth it didn’t it was almost in clockwork for him to say yes to you.

“Speaking of elvis let me go find ‘em!” You said to the little friend group you were talking to. They waved you off and with that you walked off to go find your boyfriend.

After walking for a while you finally found him. Sitting off in a corner, manspreading, with a beer in his hand. Elvis hardly drank only when he was stressed and wanting to get really relaxed.

“Hey baby” you said as you softly rubbed his hand.

“Mm hi mama, you havin’ fun?” He said taking off the black sunglasses looking back to you with his sweet southern drawl sounding really tired.

“Yes, but you don’t sound like your having much fun.” You stated with an apologetic look and tone.

He took a swig of the beer in his hand

“I’m fine don’ worry about me” He grabbed your hand kissing it looking up to you with those intensely blue eyes you loved so much.

“Uh uh elvis, look how tired you are let’s just go upstairs” You tried to convince him, rubbing your hands up and down his arms.

“But mama if your having fun I don’t want to make you go upstairs” That made you smile. He was always worried about other people more than he worried about himself

“Stop it cmon’ I can tell your already drunk” You whined as you reached out for him, receiving a groan.

He sweetly accepted taking both of your arms as you two walked upstairs to his room.

Once you made it into his room, you went into your bag that you always took to his house when you slept over and reached for your nighties to change into.

“Babe get comfortable please” You said as you watched him click on the tv and just get under the covers with his regular clothes still on.

“I am comfortable!” He whined but tried to sound tough at the same time, which you saw straight through.

You huffed walking towards his dresser opening his night drawer and grabbing his sleep clothes walking up to him, exchanging the sleep clothes with the tv remote.

“Urgh” he groaned walking towards the bathroom with the clothes in his hand. You following behind him

You giggled and started to undress and elvis was starting to stare at you. “It’s rude to stare” you giggled some more pulling up your nightie and fixing the straps, It was smaller than you want to admit.

You pulled out your pink toothbrush and started to brush your teeth as Elvis did the same

Once you finished you started to walk out until you felt his hand collide with your butt.

“ELVIS AARON PRESLEY! I know your mama raised you better than that” You said practically screaming at him.

He sent you a sweet toothy smirk before laughing at you “Sorry mama just so much back there, Can’t help myself.” You rolled your eyes at that. Sometimes he just had to act so childish

You walked over to the bed pulling the covers over your body and Elvis was right behind you.

You put yourself under the covers giggling at him, As he large arms pulled you across the bed to cuddle you.

“I love you” you whimpered kissing all over his face.

“I love you more” He groaned, his hands still on your waist.

“I hate when you do that you make it seem like I don’t have alot of love for you” You send him a sassy remark.

“Y/n go to sleep before I put you to sleep and we don’t want that” He said kissing and nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Mhm yea” you agreed with him

And with that you dozed off to asleep! Drowning out the party wrapped around eachother. It was moments like these that made you realize that you loved Elvis Presley more than you loved anyone in your life.

————————————————-

A/n : soooo what do you guys think?🥺 This is my first time writing so any other writers please let me know what I could fix!!

Also you can request just please don’t request any smut, I don’t feel comfortable writing it in really sorry💞

[neytirisblog]

Elvis and his lady both trying to be sneaky and buy each other something else for Christmas without the other finding out. It can be their first Christmas together as a couple. Double cute points if you can have both of them going to the other’s moms, asking for advice on what to get.

Ruined Surprise

| Pairings: Austin!Elvis x Fem!reader

| Summary: Christmas is a few days away and you can’t think of a good gift for Elvis, when you do find a good gift everything goes bad, but does it?

| Warnings: none.

| A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I currently have about three other stories I’m trying to work on :) not proof read please lmk if there’s any mistakes so I can correct! I also feel like they would try to be sneaky but fail.

It was Elvis’s and I first Christmas together, I was extremely nervous, I mean we’ve been dating for a couple of month and what if I get him something he doesn’t like?

What if he hates it? Maybe he wouldn’t hate it but what if he really disliked it.

His music career was currently sky-rocketing, he was making it to the top.

He was making so much money, what if he got me something expensive? Hell, I could never top that.. I don’t even have that much money! Just from what I’ve been saving up.

What if he doesn’t get me anything expensive and I’m just embarrassing yourself? What do I get him.. I decided to call the one person who knew him a little better than me.

“ Gladys? Hi! Is Elvis there? Or around you? " I questioned and which she responded with, “ No. He just left for an interview "

“ Good, good. " I mumbled, “ Why? What’s the matter? Did you two fight? Oh dear, what did he do? " She panicked, I let out a small laugh.

“ No, no, this is super embarrassin’ to be asking but what are some things that Elvis likes? I wanna get him the perfect gift for Christmas. " I spoke.

“ But I’m sure anythin’ you’ll get him he’ll love! " She spoke, my heart warmed at her words and I nodded my head at her words even though she couldn’t even see me.

“ I know.. but it’s our first Christmas together and I really need your help, please? " I questioned, Christmas was in a few days and I was panicking.

“ Well, he’s been wanting a new guitar but I don’t know.. it’s really expensive.. I know I could never afford it for him. " She spoke, sighing at the end.

“ I can save up some more money, I already have alot saved up and I’ll even get it for him and I can take it somewhere so they engrave his name! " I spoke, I knew he would absolutely love it.

“ Oh you treat my boy so well, I’m so glad he found someone like you. " Gladys spoke, I could tell she was smiling.

“ Thank you so much! I owe it to you, have a good day. " I spoke, she said her goodbyes and I hanged up.

***

I wondered into town and was met with a guitar shop, I called Gladys back and asked her the name of the guitar he wanted and I’d seen and heard of it due to to Elvis gushing about it.

After Elvis’s interview he said that he was gonna go shopping for gifts and I really hoped I don’t run in to him.

I purchased the guitar which was basically all of my savings gone, but it was completely worth it, no regrets.

I walked towards a shop where they engraved things, like necklaces, bracelets, hopefully guitars but when I opened the door I was Elvis standing at the counter.

I silently gasped and hid behind the counter with the guitar in my hand, I could only hear bits and pieces of what he was saying. Something like, “ That’s perfect. " and, “ Be back soon to pick it up. "

I furrowed my eyebrows as I heard the door shut, signaling he left the building, I stood up and walked to the counter and put the guitar there.

“ Hi! I was wonderin’ if you do engraving someone’s name into this guitar? " I questioned, the person behind the counter nodded their head and spoke,

“ We engrave anythin’ but you’ll have to leave it here and pick it up tomorrow mornin’. " I nodded my head and they asked what I wanted to engrave and where.

“ Could you engrave the name Elvis Presley? And put it there. " I spoke and tapped on the spot I wanted them to do it.

“ Of course, big Elvis Presley fan? " They spoke, I let out a laugh and spoke, “ I guess you could say that. "

“ I’ll be back tomorrow, thank you so much. " I spoke and they nodded their head.

***

It was the next day I and hadn’t heard from Elvis, was he ignoring me Christmas is tomorrow and I was on my way to the shop to pick the up guitar.

I opened the door and it was empty, just the person behind the counter.

They handed me the guitar and I gasped, “ Do you not like it? " They questioned, I shook my head, “ I love it! It’s perfect, thank you so much! " I spoke, handing them the money and saying my goodbyes.

Everything was going so perfectly until I went to my house, I opened the door and saw Elvis sat in my living room.

“ Elvis, what are you doing here? " I asked, shocked as I tried to hide the huge guitar behind my back.

His eyes widened as he also hid something behind his back.

“ What are you doing? " We both asked at the same time.

“ I have your Christmas gift but I think you basically saw it already. " I sighed, revealing the guitar from behind my back.

His eyes widened in shock and he immediately stood up, engulfing me in a huge hug I almost dropped the guitar.

“ You did not! No way. " He spoke, pulling away and kissing me immediately.

“ I also added something to it, I don’t know if you’ll like it. " I spoke handing the guitar to him, tears filled his eyes as he sat on the sofa and looked at the guitar. ‘ Elvis Presley. ' was engraved into it.

“ I love it, I love it so much, it’s perfect. " He spoke, we both were smiling like idiots until my mom spoke up.

“ Do you wanna show it to her? " My mom spoke up, looking at Elvis, he nodded his head and my mom handed him a box.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the box and he held it out to me, opening it and inside was a beautiful ring, I gasped and it was perfect.

“ I asked your momma what things you like and she said you were into rings, I was super nervous on what you’d like and I figured you’d like this. " He spoke, I nodded my head and he continued speaking, I was lost for words,

“ We just started our relationship but I know it’ll last forever, and some day I do plan on marryin’ you and I know I will and this ring, it’s a promise ring. It’s my promise to you that someday I will marry you. " He spoke, tears rolled down my cheeks at his small speech,

He took the ring out of the box and on there was a date, a date that you immediately recognized, the date that the two of you first started dating.

He slipped the ring on your finger and promised you that he would marry you no matter what, and you believed him and a couple years later he fulfilled that promise.

[dulcewrites]

Under the Spotlight

Pairing: austin!elvis x black reader (wc: 1.4k)

Requested: yes (thank you)

A/N: I, of course, was very inspired by the Vegas scenes from the movie. This was a fun idea so once again thank you to whoever sent this in. I also put a link to two of the dresses that inspired me for what the reader wears opening night. But of course you can imagine whatever dress/outfit you want. Here’s my full masterlist. And here is the masterlist to the austin!elvis series I am working on. Please reblog, like, and follow 🫶🏽

You tilt head to the side as you scan the rack of dresses in front of you, looking for something you can wear to tomorrow night’s opening show. Everything is either brightly colored, sparkly, covered in feathers, or all above. When in Rome you guess; this your first time in Vegas, might as well make the best of it.

It’s not like you’re going to be able to hide anyway. Elvis wouldn’t let you, at least not tomorrow night. You’ve been a constant in his life for years now, and he’s wanted the relationship to be public. It has been something you were hesitant about, and for good reason. Because of this, you have been very strategic about supporting Elvis from behind the scenes and sometimes from afar.

It wasn’t till Elvis whispered to you over the phone how nervous he was about performing despite how well rehearsals had been. Going on to tell you how he doesn’t know how he’s managed to get himself back in this place with the Colonel.

It reminds you of the guilty look he had on his face when he came back to Graceland to tell you that the oversees tour he wanted was being put on the back burner for a couple of months. Your eyebrows raised into your hairline when he mentioned performing at a new hotel in Vegas of all places.

The type of vulnerability he showed you when he talked about his reservations is something only the closest to him get to see. And even then, it’s rare to encounter. It was then you decided that he needs you there more than ever. The elation in his voice after you asked him if there was room for one more opening night was worth the nervousness. You had been in Vegas for a couple of weeks now, settling into the hotel.

And here you are picking out an outfit that says ‘yes I am dating Elvis Presley but don’t stare too hard’

Despite the anxiousness you feel, you are also excited. Seeing Elvis perform live is not something you are used to. Plus, he was adamant about keeping certain elements of the show a surprise from you.

You start to feel a bit defeated with your dress search till a shimmery mini dress catches your eye. It’s not your usual style, but the pretty green color makes you smile

Green… you and Elvis are going to need all the luck you two can get.

There’s an unbelievable buzz in the showroom. You can’t think of a time you’ve been around this many people excited to see one person. Excited to see Elvis, your Elvis. You fiddle with the rings on your fingers and try not to absentmindedly pick at the half up, half down hairstyle you took way too long doing. God, hopefully he’s not too nervous.

You had barely seen him today. After having breakfast in almost complete silence, you decided he needed some time by himself to decompress. The far off look in his eyes signaled to you that he has a lot of his mind. You spent the rest of the day with Jules, Charlie’s girlfriend. You think back to her rubbing your back and saying it’s sweet that you have sympathy nerves.

Your so called ‘sympathy nerves’ aren’t helped by the fact you can feel people’s eyes on you. It’s probably all out of curiosity; you are sitting with Vernon, and Dee so clearly, you’re someone important to Elvis.

Jerry walking up with drinks disrupts your thoughts.

“Ok, scotch for Vernon, an old fashion for Dee, and a whiskey sour for you,” Jerry sets the orangey-yellow drink in front of you.

After thanking him for the drink you motion for him to lean down.

“How is he,” you whisper in his ear. You know if anyone is going to know how Elvis is really doing right now, it’s Jerry.

“You know how he gets,” he says back with a small smile. “But I think he’s actually more excited than nervous.”

Hearing that does make your shoulders relax a bit. He’ll be great. He’s goddamn Elvis Presley, and he’ll be great! Jerry bid you three a goodbye to go backstage.

A shiver runs up your spine when the house lights go down, and the lights towards the stage light up in various colors. You hear the familiar opening notes to one of your favorite songs he’s recorded. What a full circle moment for his opening song to be That’s All Right.

The golden curtain begins to lift, and applause start. Elvis had told you he wanted the sound to fill the huge venue he was playing, but you’re still pleasantly surprised to see the full orchestra on stage. It’s a whole production. Your breath hitches when Elvis walks out. You’re grateful that you get to see so many different sides to Elvis, but sometimes you forget that your boyfriend is a rockstar. The rockstar.

The nerves you had for him instantly melt away once he starts singing. Elvis is a natural born performer. Very few have the charisma or talent it takes to pull off the songs and looks he does.

The cheers from the crowd once he finishes That’s All Right are deafening. After handing off his guitar, Elvis brings his free hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the lights. His eyes search the crowd before landing on your booth; his smile gets brighter once he spots you. He lets out a bit of jittery laugher before speaking.

“Welcome to the beautiful, new International Hotel,” he starts. “Thank you for coming out.”

The crowd claps, and there’s exclaims of adoration for him.

“I’d like to introduce you to a couple of people tonight,” a sly look comes on his face.

Oh Lord; on top of being a natural performer, Elvis is also a wildcard. You aren’t the person who knows what’s coming; Vernon shoots you a smile, and Dee squeezes your arm.

“First of which being my beautiful girlfriend,” his hand goes up to gesture to the table. You can feel your heart jump into your throat. If people didn’t notice you before, they sure notice you now.

The crowd cheers, and you feel your face get warm when you hear a couple of wolf whistles. Elvis laughs in response to those and nods.

“Yeah, I sure know how to pick ‘em,” Elvis winks at you.

He goes on introduce Vernon, the hotel owner, and much to your chagrin, the Colonel. You see him just grinning ear to ear talking to the owner of the hotel. Something about the whole thing makes you uneasy. Elvis tells you to ‘play nice’ when it comes to the Colonel, so you often find yourself biting your tongue when he’s around. You know he doesn’t like you; he’s made that clear over the years.

The rest of the show goes on without a hitch. Elvis, the backup singers, and the orchestra don’t miss a beat. Moving from song to song seamlessly. You’re so enraptured by him that you jump a bit in your seat when Jerry comes over to the table to tell you guys it’s time to head back.

Once you all make it backstage, you watch as the show comes to an end. Stagehands come up to give him a towel and water; the musicians on stage all congratulate him on a great show.

His eyes meet yours as he walks over to the side of the stage where you’re standing, and you throw your arms out for a hug. He picks you up into a hug.

“Who the hell was that,” you exclaim, and he laughs. “Seriously baby that was incredible. I’m so proud you.”

He grabs your jaw and pulls you into a kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. You tell him you love him more and open your mouth to say something else till you notice Colonel standing on the other side of the stage, clearly waiting for Elvis. You sigh.

“I think your manager wants you,” you lift your chin in his direction. Elvis turns to see him, then turns back and gives you a sheepish look.

“I need to take care of that,” he lifts your hand to his lips. “I’ll be up soon, I promise.”

You simply nod. You know he’s riding a high right now, arguing about the Colonel isn’t worth it, not tonight. Jerry agreed to walk you up to the room, but before you completely leave the stage, you turn back to see Elvis and Colonel embraced in a hug. Your heart stings a bit… yeah you really don’t like him.

[ladyambrosia03]

Angel Eyes part 2

Austin Butler/ Elvis x reader|

Note: I didn’t expect my story to get so many likes it a short amount of time and I spent all day writing this!

@ninebluehearts

@londonalozzy

@theinvisiblecapricorn I promised I’d tag these 3 lovely people!

Summary:After your little accident you thought your life was over and took a turn for the worst when it actually took a turn for the best

Warning:Angst,Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First you heard nothing……then you heard someone calling your name and ambulance sirens…..then you saw nothing but Icy Blue eyes stare into yours looking for a sign of life and the darkness….and you wake up in a field, on a swing that was connected to a tree and just sat there and swung feeling the most peace you’ve felt in a while. Until you heard crying and a sweet sultry southern drawl saying your name…. And then you woke up and looked around, your in the hospital and your best friend Rita is next to you laying her head down on hospital bed, you trying to move but your body is sore and stiff and your throat is to dry to say anything so you groan instead and it’s just enough to get Rita’s attention and rush to get a doctor, the doctor checks your vitals and does a normal check up and tells you that’s you’ve been asleep for about 43 hours so almost two days and you can leave in 3 days. Rita flips once you in a better state. “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING Y/N?!” She yelled, “Damn Rita not so loud!” You exclaimed covering your ears as your still sensitive to sound, she quickly apologized and was just worried, your family and friends came to visit you leaving flowers, balloons, chocolate and candy and get well cards, as your going through them you notice a big bouquet of Red Roses and some rich milk chocolate, and inside the roses is a small card, you open in and you wish you’d hadn’t….. “Get well soon sweetheart! -Elvis” you dropped the card and put the roses aside only opening the chocolate to snack on, Gladys and Vernon came to visit you and keep you company, Gladys told you she gave Elvis and earful when he got back and he felt awful but you didn’t care, he broke your heart and just because he felt bad doesn’t make up for what he did to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One more day before you could return home and you were awake writing in your notebook with Gladys in the room knitting, there was an awkward silence “He feels terrible ya know?” You look up at her confused “what do you mean?” She looked at you with a concerning look. “That boy hasn’t been eating right, he overwhelmed with guilt and he’s heartbroken himself, he even sent Priscilla back to Germany and cut contact with er” now that surprised you and almost made you happy, almost. The fact that he sent his love affair back to Germany proved some worth to you and maybe he really did feel bad but you still weren’t ready to fully forgive him, as the day went by people constantly came by to see you, near the end of visiting hour the nurse said you had one more visitor, maybe Rita came back to say one more goodbye, but no…..a tall man’s Silhouette stood in the door way and your heart started beating faster as anxiety begin to build on your chest but instead of being the crystal ice blue you were expecting, there were a jaded green, and the southern drawl was replace with a small Italian accent. “I didn’t scare you did I? He asked you. “Nathan! You can’t do that to me!” You said a bit annoyed and he chuckled and sat at the end of your bed, Nathan was tall, Jade green eyes, taffy colored semi-curly hair, he was a sight for sore eyes but Nathan was your highschool best friend and he was there for you through everything. “I’m glad your doing better, you had a nasty hit.” He had a hint of concern on his voice, it was sweet, you haven’t seen him in a while so it was nice to see your high school friend. “Yeah I’m alright now, I have a headache though.” You laughed and so did he and you two just started talking like you never left each other’s side, laughing, joking, tell stories, having a ball until nurse came in and said visiting hours were over. “Awe well that’s a shame, but hey I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n.” Nathan said and he hugged you gently and something about it threw you off guard, it was warm, it was comforting and you felt…. Safe, like nothing could hurt you. But where have you felt this feeling before? You’d stay up thinking about it until you drifted to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you slowly begin to wake up and when you came to your sense your realize someone was holding your hand and you opened your eyes fully and nearly jerked away. It was Elvis, fast asleep, holding your hand,your heart dropped and you tried to pull your hand away slowly but successfully failed and he woke up and looked at you with his…Angel Eyes, he jumped up quickly and instantly started to apologize to you and telling you how much he loved you and when he saw your facial expression showed no love at all he stopped. “You really think this will make all this better? Your the reason I got hit by a car in the first place!….kinda.” He flinched at your sudden tone. “I know darlin and I’m so sorry….” He said, his southern drawl has that sadden tone with it, you almost felt bad. Almost. “Don’t worry about it but inform one of your maids to pack my things, I’ll be leaving Graceland once in released.” You said nonchalantly and now his heart broke. “What? No..No don’t leave please? At least stay in the guest room!” He plead and you actually reconsidered, you did like Gladys and Vernon, and the house staff was great. “Fine but you better have the rooms arranged by the time the hospital releases me.” You turned away from him. “That can be arranged no problem.” Another voice spoke from the doorway, The Colonel Parker and he walked in a looked directly at you. “How yoy would you like to be a famous singer like Mr.Presley Ms.L/n?” He asked and you were baffled and he caught on and chuckled. “I heard your singing that song the other day, you wrote it correct?” He asked impressed and you simply nodded and he started talking to you about all the fame and fortune you’d have. “So what do you say Ms.L/n?” You thought for a moment, You? A Famous singer? You looked at the Colonel and agreed to one show and that was it, he wasn’t exactly liking that idea but agreed to your wishes. The Colonel walked out and Elvis looked at you sadly and asked. “You sure you wanna do this? It’s not exactly easy.” Easy? You think you can handle it after what he put you through. “ I’ll be fine.” You say confident and he smiles. “There’s that fire you always have in your eyes.” He said and walked. A day passed and you were discharged from the hospital and you took a cab home and when you walked inside Graceland and it looked the same when you left but you immediately run upstairs and open the door to Elvis’s room and it looked a lot more empty,and then you open the guest bedroom door only a little bit and through the crack you saw all your stuff is in there but….it’s been set up and sitting next to the bed is Elvis curled up into a ball holding s picture of you two mumbling to himself, you could barley hear what he was saying but you could hear him say I’m sorry and I miss you, and please come back, and it broke your heart and then you thought maybe he really did change, maybe he was sorry,you looked down getting lost on your own thoughts you barley noticed the door opened in front of you until you heard a voice. “Y/n….?” You looked up and we’re met with gorgeous Angel Blue eyes….. “Can I talk to you….?”

Note: okay! It should not have taken me this long to post this but I got busy! Soooooo anyways! I hope you enjoy it!