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dreamingofep · 1 year

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Sinned Awakening pt. 3

An AU Elvis fic

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

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

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

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, SMUT, oral, the usual dirty stuff

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 3! This part was a lot to write and I felt it to be a bit of a challenge to show the tension and magnetism between these two. I hope you enjoy all this and can't wait to show you what happens next. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs. 🖤

Arriving to work the next day, you felt that familiar knot in your stomach form. Yet again, you didn’t know what would be in store for you. Would he fire you? Would you get another obscenely weird letter of praise? You had no idea but you had to show up and find out.

Three o clock arrived and there was no phone call, just the buzzing sound of the lights above you. You tapped your leg nervously, wanting to see him but unsure what to say. He might not have seen you after all, maybe it was just you being paranoid and he wasn’t upset at all.

Six o clock came and still no phone call. In fact, there wouldn’t be a phone call for an entire week. You were incredibly frustrated that he has you on call like this. You expected him to have more manners than this rather than keeping you waiting at his beck and call. But Tanya's voice rings in your head and it reminds you that he's "particular." Just another word for him acting like an asshole.

Looking at the clock, it was almost seven and your blood boiled. The least he could do was tell you he didn’t need you to clean today and you could go home and rest. But instead, you’re stuck here in this cold, poorly lit locker room in the basement of the Hilton.

The shrill cry of the phone makes you make a frustrated groan. You quickly pick up the receiver and raise it to your ear and don’t say a word.

“Mr. Presley will-,” you hang up harshly and head to the elevator.

You had rehearsed the things you wanted to say to him, really give him a piece of your mind. How he can’t treat you like this and you’re not some servant to him. You work for The Hilton, not for him solely, and he needs to be reminded of that.

You rush past the men in the hallway and don’t care about the judgmental stares they give you as you head to the suite’s double doors. You open the door abruptly and slam it behind you making the walls shake. Your eyes search for Elvis in the living room and don’t see him anywhere. Not only that, the room is in spotless condition as you left it last, leaving you bewildered that you got a call in the first place. You creep your way further into the room and you get that familiar chill down your spine. Your body freezes and your eyes dart to the dark figure coming out of the bedroom.

The shadow in the corner of the room makes it’s way into the light to reveal Elvis standing in a silk black shirt and black slacks, anger radiating off of him and hitting you in waves.

“Do not slam my door,” he bellows.

You scoff at him and cross your arms on your chest, “You can’t possibly think I’d be happy waiting for a week not hearing a word from you. Then you call me up here thinking I could get the normal cleaning done! A normal person would call at the beginning of the shift that they don’t need me so I can go about my day,” you snarl.

“So you can go do what? Go home to a fiancé that doesn’t care if you exist?” He snaps back. You stare wide-eyed in shock and disbelief at the pure hate that he spits at you

“What the hell is your problem?! I have been nothing but kind and gracious to you despite your god-awful raging mood swings,” you retort. His jaw clenches, slowly walking towards you. The closer he gets, the clearer you could see his eyes, engulfed with pent-up anger. They were a much darker blue than the icy blue you saw a few days ago and you can’t figure out if it was your imagination or the lighting, but the way he’s looking at you now is dangerous.

“You’re my problem, honey,” he scoffs, “You don’t listen. You were told up front, I am the only one who tells you if I need your services, and yet you come barging in here tonight like you own the place. I didn’t need you tonight, but you hung up on one of my men and couldn’t even listen to the complete instruction,” he scowls. His eyes burn into yours as he inches closer to you.

“And possibly even worse, you went into my bedroom the other night when I specifically told you not to under any circumstances,” He growls, pointing his finger at you, getting closer than he normally gets.

“Well, I wasn’t in your bedroom so I don’t see what the issue is,” you say defiantly, watching as the disbelief washes over his face. You straighten out your posture, showing him that you’re not going stand here and take his harsh words like a scared child.

“And if you were so concerned about me finding out what you do in your bedroom, you might need to gain the ability to actually close your door and turn your porn off until I leave the penthouse,” you sneer. He quickly rushes to you, taking your face in his hand, making you look up straight into his fiery eyes.

“You have no idea what I can do to you,” he seethes. Your breathing begins to become labored and his close proximity makes it feel suffocating. You peel his cold hands off your face and throw it down at his side.

“I’m not afraid of what some recluse with money can do to me. It was only a matter of time before you would fire me,” you say fuming.

“Mhmm…but you’re right, maybe I should fire you. Or, maybe I should make you work for me forever, keep you all to myself,” he says darkly. Your heart thumps in your ears and you look at him wide-eyed as the mood in the room drastically shifts.

“Y-y-you couldn’t pay me enough so don’t even try,” your voice waiver the closer he gets to you.

“Maybe you’re right… maybe there isn’t a number that could make you happy, you’re just going to be as miserable as me,” he scoffs.

“No one can be as miserable as you, I can guarantee that,” you scowl.

He takes another step forward and you retract back, needing to keep space between you two. He smirks when he sees your reaction to him, taking one more step closer.

“I make you nervous, don’t I?” He quips slyly.

A lump in your throat forms and you don’t realize you’ve retreated so far in the room and are at the piano now. You bump the keys of the piano with your backside and jump at the sound. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say nervously.

“I see it in your eyes, the way your body fights to get away from me, but you can’t. You want to be here. To be close to me,” he reveals.

“Elvis, I- I’m engaged you can’t try to win your way with me like any other woman,”

“I don’t think you care about that right now. I know a troubled and unhappy soul when I see one honey. I’m just trying to figure you out. What you… need,” he emphasizes.

“Who says I’m not already happy?” You question. Another smirk forms on his face, making you weaker by the second.

“Based on how your cheeks are flushed and your eyes pleading for me to give you attention, I’d say you need something more. Something more from me.”

You bite your lower lip, knowing everything he is saying is the truth. The longer you stare and be in his presence, the more your body craved being around him. Not only that but this carnal desire to let him have his way with you ignited a fire inside you you didn’t know existed. You look down at the carpet, mapping out the way you’re going to try to get out of here. He places his hand on the bottom of your chin, making you look up into his eyes as they consume you whole.

“Do I make you nervous, yes or no,” he spat.

You nod your head in his hand, unable to keep your breathing steady as his eyes bore into your searching for answers. He pushes his body into yours, his erection starting to form and pushing into your tummy. You let out a slow breath, trying to fight how good his body feels on yours. The battle is lost almost immediately as you find your hands wrapped around his torso, needing him even closer, scratching your nails down his back.

“Are you happy?” He questions.

“I’m not happy,” you whisper. He lets a slow exhale, his body melting into yours.

“Then stop fighting me so much and let me give you what you need,” He groans into your ear, pushing his hips into you more. You hold back the moan you want to give him, unable to denounce that this is exactly what you wanted from him.

“I was born to please honey. It's what I do best. I get on that stage, I please the audience with my voice every night. I always make sure those around me get what they need too. Whether that’s money, food, clothes, you name it. And that applies to you too,” he pauses and takes his hand off of you. You take a sharp inhale as you feel your core throb for the first time in his presence. “So, what do you need?’ He asks patiently, smirking down at you.

“I need you to show me what you do best,” you say slyly, succumbing to him. He grins and in a flash, his lips are on yours. His lips feel better than you could have ever dreamed of. They’re soft and pillowy, kissing you with a newfound urgency you had never had before. The way he groans when he kisses you more passionately has you rolling your eyes back; like he’s been dying to do this and has mapped it all out.

His hands are around your hips, squeezing them tightly, making you push your body into him more. His hands roam your body freely, putting them everywhere, touching certain areas longer than others then moving on to touch somewhere else. He finds the curve of your ass and squeezes it firmly, making you break the kiss and look up at him gasping.

The way his skin felt on your body was beyond a craving; it was a need. This was exactly what you needed. All this weird pent-up energy between you two was bound to make the dam break and the only cure was having him this way. With your bodies clutching for each other, moaning and gasping for more as your apparent arousals made your thoughts go hazy. Your hand trails down to the front of his body, grazing down his til you hit his hard bulge. Your fingers trace the outline of his cock, getting to feel how long his length really is and you look up at him.

He has the most devious grin on his face as you keep rubbing him over his pants. You let out a breathy sigh, realizing you can’t wait any longer.

“Mmm, Elvis,” you say low.

“I know honey,” he grumbles, his finger hooking onto the inside of your shirt as he pops off every button. Your skirt has the same treatment as you feel the zipper slide down and it slipping off your hips. His hand finds your hair and swiftly pulls the elastic that was holding your hair back, letting it fall in effortless waves.

Before you have any chance to react to what he’s doing to your clothes, he picks you up and sits you down firmly on top of the piano. Your head spins at the way he’s touching you, being more exposed just being in your bra and panties. It's all so much better than you anticipated and it feels like his hands are burning on your skin. He grunts inwardly and rubs his hands along the inner parts of your thighs, spreading them open. His thumbs play dangerously close to the sensitive flesh that reaches your core and you can’t help but spread your legs wider for him to touch those places. Elvis stands in between your legs and brushes your hair behind your ear. His fingers unclasp your bra and slide the straps off your shoulders. Cupping your breasts in his hands, he gives them the lightest touch, rubbing your nipples in slow circles with his thumbs making you fall apart instantly for him.

He leans you back on the piano and lifts your legs up, letting them dangle on his shoulders. Your heart pounded away as Elvis inched closer to your dripping heat. You look at him in between your legs, looking absolutely ravenous. He glides his thumb up on your covered folds and instantly brought a shock to your entire body. Your panties were soaked through already, and he smiles when he makes this discovery. He keeps rubbing your sensitive bud, watching your face as it drowns in pleasure.

The friction he’s giving you is exactly what you wanted and it feels like heaven. He knows the exact amount of pressure to put on it to make you want more from him. Your blazing heat and his cold fingers provide such an interesting sensation that you’ve never experienced and it drives you insane.

Elvis can’t keep his eyes off of you, wanting to make you feel better than you ever have before. He hooks his fingers in the elastic waistband and you move your hips up to help him get them off of you. He hums softly, amused at your eagerness. He lightly glides his hands over your entire body, leaving you with chills. He can’t help but smirk when he notices how your body reacts to him. How your nipples hardened by his cool touch and how your chest heaves waiting for him to give you more.

He crouches down slightly, placing his two fingers on your lower lips, spreading them apart, showcasing the wet mess he has created and spilling out of you.

“Fuck this kitty looks so perfect,” he moans breathlessly, looking at you with need. He rubs his thumb on your sensitive bud, making you let out an obscenely loud moan, having not been touched like this by a man in ages. He knows just the right pressure to give you, enough to work you up. He stops and looks up at you, grinning like a little devil.

“This is one of the things I do best honey,” he groans deeply before he leans down and you feel his tongue on you. He starts to lap his tongue into your folds, swirling it and putting the perfect amount of pressure on your clit. You gasp, so unaccustomed to all of this, it feels almost overwhelming.

“Oh shittt,” you groan the more he uses his tongue. He has a tight grip on your thighs, keeping you still as you try to squirm on top of the piano. He is also groaning the more he licks at your wetness, driving you to the edge by the sounds he’s making. You lift your head up to watch him with his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed as he looks positively ravenous as he eats you, sucking and lapping all the wetness from you. His groans sound animalistic, like he’s been so deprived for your pussy and he finally gets what he’s wanted the most.

Suddenly, you feel his tongue slip into your entrance and you both make the most salacious moan together. He eats you like he’s trying to get all the sweet cream from the bottom of the cone, not letting a drop get unlicked.

He sucks on your clit before taking his lips off of you, “Goddamn baby, tasting so fucking good. I've never had someone taste so sweet. Just like honey,” he murmurs drunkenly and goes back to licking your weeping folds. One hand is on your thigh, holding your leg up in the air and the other is grasping onto the edge of the piano, hunched over in stature as he is so laser-focused on you.

You hadn’t experienced this very often and it was definitely never like this. This was beyond pleasurable, it was euphoric with the way he made you want to get the very edge and come apart with his mouth on you.

Your hips start to rock involuntarily into his face, needing more from that mouth of his.

You feel his lips form into a mischievous smile as you continue to do this, guiding his tongue where you want it most.

“That’s right baby, I make you feel so good hmm,” he whispers. The sound of his voice makes your walls flutter and you can’t last much longer. Your breathing begins to shake, not used to so many sensations that he is giving you right now. He plunges his tongue deep inside you and you practically see stars behind your closed eyes. He keeps this same pace, moving his tongue in and out of you as you reach for his hair. You tangle your fingers in the soft black tresses and continue to rock into his face, feeling the warmth of your orgasm rush all over your body. You moan loudly as his tongue continues to fuck you and your squeezing walls.

Your body tingles all over and feel more pleased than you have in ages. You never particularly liked oral because you had a harder time finishing, but tonight, that was the complete opposite problem.

If that’s what he can do with his mouth… what can he do with the rest of his body…

He takes his mouth off of you, your slick covering his lips and chin, his eyes looking positively drunk on you. Standing up, his chest heaves when he looks at you, contemplating what he’s going to do next to you. His long index finger glides through your sensitive folds, making you hiss at the added pressure.

His other hand traces your jaw and his thumb rubs along your lips, humming to himself as you lick the pad of it. He groans at your little insinuation and moves his hand down to your neck putting the most delicious amount of pressure there.

Suddenly, you feel his finger enter your weeping core and you gasp and groan at the intrusion. Your walls hug his digit snugly and he too lets out a pent-up moan as he moves it in and out of you slowly.

“Fucking hell honey, when was the last time a man fucked you right,” he coos.

Your mind races and your body aches with desire, needing him to take care of every last want and need you crave.

“I-I-I don’t remember,” you manage to mumble, feeling his long finger get deeper inside you. Your jaw drops as he continues to feel your slick walls, letting out a loud moan.

He enters another long finger inside you and you cry out his name, so completely enamored with the feelings that are being brought into your body. Your walls flutter and you sit up on your elbows watching what he’s doing to you. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a soft spongy spot you didn’t know existed before. He keeps curling and pushing there, making you moan louder for him.

His mouth is back on your clit, suckling it eagerly. You can’t hold back anymore and feel your walls squeeze around his fingers. Your head falls back, begging for him to give you more. The rippling wave of pleasure hits you like a train and won’t stop as long as he has his mouth on your aching bud. You try to push his head away from your over-sensitive core but he doesn’t let you move it. Sitting there shaking with pleasure, he stills your legs and looks at you deviously.

“I’m gonna show you how a man should fuck you, honey,” he growls, his eyes continuing to look dangerous and yet so attractive. He pulls his fingers out of you and picks you up off the piano, pulling you into the next room.

His bedroom is dark, with black furnishings taking up most of the space and a large king-sized bed in the middle across from the tv stand. A picture of an angel in stained glass sits on his nightstand, backlit with a candle to shine on the depiction of the biblical figure.

Elvis pulls back the sheets and places you in the middle of the bed. He doesn’t get on it with you right away, instead, he just stares hungrily at you, working the buttons of his shirt to reveal his body to you. Your eyes wander down to his pants and see his straining erection and he notices you staring.

“Need something, sweetheart?” He teases.

You nod your head at him, “Mhmm, I do” you beckon, trying to reach for his hand to pull him in. He doesn’t move though, and takes his hand away from you.

“Tell me what you need,” he prods.

“I need your cock,” you pant.

He slowly drags his pants off his hips, his erection slapping his lower stomach as it springs free. You lay there unable to function. Seeing it up close makes you feel an undeniable need to have him fill you with all of that. Your heart races out of your chest as he still doesn’t make a move yet.

He wraps his hand around his length, slowly pulling back his foreskin to better showcase his red leaking tip. He looks down at you slyly, watching how you bite your lip and scoot closer to him on the edge of the bed.

“Did you like it?,” he cocks his head at you waiting for your response.

You look at him puzzled, “Did I like what?” You ask unsure.

“The other day, did you like watching me get off?” He says darkly. You hold your breath, confirming your big fear that he did indeed see you watching him through the crack of the door. You know there’s no point in lying, he saw you and there’s no other excuse.

“Yes,” you squeak out embarrassed. A sly grin washes over his face and his hand continues to rub his length.

“Then say it,” he commands, his voice deep and gruff. Your stomach drops when you hear his tone and what he is expectantly waiting to hear from you. You don’t have to ask what he wants and you take a deep breath before speaking.

“I liked watching you get off,” you say in a breathy moan. He bites the bottom of his lip and nods his head at you.

“I know honey, I know you did. I liked how you watched me. Now it’s time to give you what you want,” he groans, getting on the bed in between your legs and spreading them open. The coolness of his hands pressing into your soft thighs makes you shiver with anticipation. He guides the tip of his cock in between your folds, covering it with your slick and you groan.

He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes a few inches in swiftly. You gasp at the initial penetration, he feels so much bigger than you anticipated and you haven’t had sex in so long that your body needs a second to acclimate. Your hands reach for his arms and grab onto him tight and groan.

He also lets out a loud moan as he moves in and out of you slowly, his eyes closed shut and his mouth dropped open in pleasure.

“Fuuckkk honey. Squeezing me so damn tight. You feel perfect,” He groans through his teeth, pushing more of his cock inside of you.

Your fingers dig into his flesh, leaving little red marks on his biceps. There’s a searing pleasurable pain that resides within you as you try to take him. He watches how you writhed on the bed, gasping for air as all of this is overwhelming.

“Ahh, oh my god Elvis,” You moan as you toss your head to the side, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear him hum in delight as he watches every single reaction come out of you. How you inadvertently moan for more when he pulls his length out of you and how your face looks when he plunges the rest of it in you.

“Oh my god,” you both moan out.

“Elvis, holy shit…” you managed to get out as he starts to snap his hips faster into you.

“What honey, you not used to get fucked like this hmm?” He teases.

You shake your head fervently, looking down as his length goes in and out of you.

“No, feels so good though,” you whimper. He pushes your legs up more and has both of his hands on your knees and he grinds his hips into you, watching you from above. God those hips were talented in more ways than one, the way he was barely moving them but was hitting the most perfect spot inside you had you dying.

The coil in your belly tightens by the second and has you crying for release. Almost reading your thoughts, he stops and pulls out of you. You plead for him, wanting nothing more than for him to make you cum. His eyes are still very dark, lust taking them over as he watches you plead for more of him.

“Elvisss please oh god,” you cry, pulling at his arms to get him on you again.

“You’re gonna have to tell me exactly what you want baby,” he commands.

You let out a frustrated moan, looking into his eyes, “Keep fucking me, your cock feels so good,” you beg unashamedly.

He grins at you and quickly puts your legs on his shoulders. He lines himself up again and plunges into you fast and fervently, making you see stars already. Elvis stretches his arm over you, holding onto the bed frame for leverage as he pounds into you. The moans and cries are coming out of you like water. He was right, you’ve never had a man fuck you like this and you enjoyed it more than you probably should.

When it came to sex, Daniel didn’t think about your needs, he did the same thing every time if you two ever did have any. This wasn’t the case at all with Elvis. He was on a mission for you you to feel the maximum amount of pleasure and cum first.

He looks so powerful and addicted to you, as he keeps fucking you. Your hips move with him, matching his rhythm and feeling that familiar feeling in your core. His other hand is back on your neck, wrapping it firmly there making your eyes roll back. You groan loudly, not able to take much more at the pace he’s set.

“Elvis I’m gonna cum oh god,” you cry.

He groans with you and you feel his thumb trace the side of your neck, rubbing there back and forth cussing under his breath.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck honey,” he moans as he leans down and nips hard at the crook of your neck.

You cry out for him, feeling beyond overwhelmed. The way his teeth felt on your neck was a feeling you could only describe as perilous. You didn’t want him to stop necessarily but it made you nervous with how intensely he was focused there. He keeps nipping that spot over and over then at it licking ravenously. You feel his body convulse on top of you, his breathing ragged as he nuzzles his nose next to your ear.

“Cum for me, now,” he demands gruffly, his hips snapping into you like an animal.

You obey without hesitation and feel your walls squeeze his length, making you both cuss. His face stays buried in the crook of your neck, not moving it as you ride out your orgasm.

Your fingers scratch at his back, holding onto him for dear life as you try to regain your normal breathing. He quickly pulls out of you and keeps his head down, his chest heaving like you've never seen, and grabs his length in his hand, growling in frustration.

“Turn around, now,” he grunts. Your brain scrambled to listen to him, his tone making you jump out of your skin. You quickly get on all fours and wait there for his next instructions. His hand grasps at your hip and you feel his hot seed land on your ass. His moans are gruff and you hear his breathing scattered, frantic almost. The sounds of his moans made you melt and you wanted to look at his face to see what he looked like coming. You bet he looked even more attractive somehow. But you decided to listen to him and let him finish the way he wanted to. You felt his seed drip down your ass and onto the backof your thighs, making you completely wet with both of your arousal.

His hands squeeze your hips and he turns you around again, laying on your back looking up at him. He looks delightfully fucked out of his mind and looks down upon you like prey. You both don’t say anything right away, trying to regain your normal breathing and not pass out from this beautiful man on top of you.

“Did you like that?” He asks softly.

“Y-yes. I really did. Didn’t know it could be that, intense,” you admit. He chuckles to himself, his blue eyes still dark with lust as he looks at you.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he says smugly as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

He carefully gets off of you and goes to the bathroom to get a towel. He has you turn around for him again, he wipes your backside clean and he sits on the edge of the bed staring at you. You didn’t know what else to say or do, so many emotions were running through your head, and couldn’t make any sense of them.

Why did your body like him this much? It was more intense than you could have possibly imagined. You wanted to believe it was because you had been so deprived of another human’s touch but it wasn’t convincing enough. You just cheated on your fiancé, it should be making you sick with what you just begged Elvis to do to you but instead, you’re already thinking if this could possibly happen again.

No stop it. It’s not going to happen again. You promise.

You need to break this deafening silence and look at him smirking.

“I hope you don’t expect me to change the sheets next,” you say smartly. He shakes his head at you and laughs. Another thing that is beautiful about him; his laugh. That contagious sound makes you smile without you even trying.

“No honey I won’t make you do that. We might just make another mess in them,” He says deviously.

“Elvis, I umm, I really enjoyed all of that but this can’t happen again,” you say weakly.

“Mhmm, whatever you want honey. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be,” he discloses, getting up and heading for the bathroom. “Leave whenever you want, I have to get ready for my show,” He says gently.

You look at the clock and it’s already eight, his show starts in half an hour. Looks like he might be going on a little late.

You go back into the living room area where you see your discarded uniform. You slip your skirt back on and button up your shirt. And throw your ruined panties and bra in your cart and make your way out. You couldn’t make eye contact with the men there in the hall, almost guaranteeing that they heard everything that was going on in there. The elevator doors open and you get in and take the long ride down to the basement.

Your head felt like it was in a cloud, blurry with so many thoughts and feelings you couldn’t escape. Grabbing your panties out from your cart, you make your way to your locker to grab your purse and go home. You keep a small mirror on the locker’s door and you take a look at your reflection. Your hair looked like it went through a tornado and your mascara was smudged underneath your eyes.

Nice you look completely normal.

Then your eyes stare in disbelief at what you see next. On the side of your neck, a large purple bruise has surfaced, pulsating and burning. You delicately touch it with your fingers and wince, feeling your pulse underneath it throb. He was nipping there harder than you thought based on how big and purple the bruise is, he did some damage.

Tilting your head further and inspecting for any more signs of how you committed adultery, you see your carotid artery running down your neck and through the bruise Elvis left behind.

You take deep breaths and try to find a bandage that will cover this up properly. You have no idea what excuse you are going to try to give when people ask what happened but you’ll figure it out later. Right now, you need to cover it up and get out of here.

Rushing over to the first aid kit, you find a band-aid that covers the bruise and you carefully placed it on. Closing your locker and grabbing your purse, you run to your car and lock the door, catching your breath and calming yourself down before you drive home.

This can’t happen again.

There’s already too much evidence he left behind.

You can’t have him.

He’s too tempting.

Do your job and get out.

But something in you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jacqueline19997 @returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #vampire elvis fic #vampire elvis #70s elvis #sinned awakening #elvis fanfic #samfangirls

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headfullofpresley · 2 years

Text

You and me, kid

You and me, kid ─ always and forever.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader (can be Austin!Elvis as well)

Word count: 4324 (woops)

Warning/notes: SMUT SMUT SMUT, y/n is a bold ass bitch, mentions of cigarettes/cigars, blood, biting, crying(?), English is not my first language so bare with me cuties. I wrote this with late 60s!Elvis/early 70s!Elvis in mind, but other than mentions of the International/Vegas there’s nothing that indicates so, so you can read it with any era in mind.

Most of the vampire stuff is inspired by TVD and TO.

Part 2 is here!

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‘‘I pick my poison and it’s you, nothing can kill me like you do. You’re going straight to my head and I’m headed straight for the edge.’’

You knew the wisest thing to do was to stay far far away from Elvis Presley. With that killer smile that showed off his perfect pearly whites and voice as smooth as butter, he had girls all over the world in hysterics. You had never met one girl who did not swoon over Elvis Presley and even though you’d never admit it out loud, you weren’t any better. You shouldn’t find it hot when his lips were covered in your blood when he’d pull back from your neck, you shouldn’t be moaning when he lapped up the stripe of crimson fluid that spilled down the length of your neck and down your collar bone. But here you freaking were, shivering in both pleasure and pain as you straddled the raven haired vampire that could end your life in just a mere second.

But Elvis wasn’t planning on ending your life, not in this moment and if it were up to him, not ever. Ever since laying eyes on you and being close enough to you to smell your natural scent through that sweet perfume of yours, he couldn’t bare to stay away from you. Before he could even taste you, he had already become addicted. You were hired as a cigarette girl at The International a few weeks before Elvis’ first show there and although it wasn’t exactly your dream job, you did like it. It paid well, you got to meet a lot of interesting people and the boss had offered you to stay in one of the rooms for free until you had enough saved up to rent the small apartment you had your sights set on located in the neon capital of the world. Las Vegas was equally scary as exciting, but for now, there was no other place in the world where you’d rather be. You had worked the floor for most of Elvis’ shows at the hotel and while you were enjoying a free concert during work hours, he had different ideas when he noticed you prancing around with the small tray of smokes and snacks around your neck. Neither did he miss the way your legs seemed to go on for days in your work outfit which consisted of a short tight fitted white dress, not leaving much up to the imagination of who ever laid their eyes on you. And he hated the thought of that.

After his first show, he immediately made a request to have cigars delivered up to his suite, asking for you specifically. Mistaking your co-workers’ looks of worry for jealousy, you happily accepted the offer. You still remembered the first time he sank his sharp fangs into the soft flesh of your neck and how you cried in pain, trying to fight him off in a panic. Looking back on it now, it just made you laugh. After that night, you went up to the suite every night with your little tray, becoming just as addicted to him as he was to you.

‘‘More.. I want more,’’ you whined softly as your fingers were tangled in his dark locks, trying to push him back to your neck. The strength he possessed was no match for your weak arms, his fingers wrapping around your small wrists to pull your hands out of his hair as he pulled his head back. A deep laugh rolled off of his tongue, the wet muscle sticking out to swipe away some of your blood that stained his lips. You were watching his every move with dazed eyes, every single one of your muscles and senses on high alert, as they were always were in his presence. He was so intoxicating, so enchanting. Every time you’d enter his space, the world around you disappeared, as if it never even existed. Everything you once believed in made no sense at all anymore and worries that would cloud your mind during the day vanished like snow melting underneath the heat of a winter sun.

‘‘Easy, girl,’’ he grinned as he reached his hand out to your face, gently grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger, pulling your face closer to his. You could feel his warm breath on your skin and it made your eyes flutter shut, a small gasp leaving your mouth without you even noticing it. ‘‘We have all the time in the world,’’ he whispered and you didn’t answer, instead eagerly waiting for his plumb lips to touch yours, but it never came. The small kiss he planted on the corner of your mouth wasn’t enough and you opened your eyes, pouting as you slapped his chest. The action only made him laugh and his hand moved from your jaw to your hair, caressing some fly away strands behind your ear. You followed his clear blue eyes as they wandered over every detail of your face, grabbing his other hand to boldly place it on your left breasts which was still hidden behind the fabric of the piece of black lacy lingerie you were wearing. With a grin tugging at your lips, you placed your hand on top of his, making him squeeze the flesh in his palm. His eyes shot up to yours as he smirked, shaking his head a little before he laughed softly.

‘‘You’re so impatient,’’ he hummed softly, though you didn’t miss the warning tone that hinted at his voice. You didn’t care, and he knew that. Which was one of the reasons why he took a liking to you so much. Sure, you screamed his ears off the first time he had you the way he wanted to, but with a little bit of compulsion he had you right where he wanted you. You were here completely on your own accord. He told you the truth, only compelling you to be quiet when he’d feed from you and not to tell anyone what he was, but other than that you wanted to be here. You wanted to be with him, no matter how dangerous it might be. You removed your hand from his, running it through his hair instead as you sighed theatrically. ‘‘Well, you stopped feeding on me, so I need to be satisfied somehow,’’ you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you pulled your hand back and abruptly lifted your hips off of his lap, though before you could even make it off the bed, he had you pinned down on the mattrass, trapping your hands above your head. That damned grin appeared back on your face, making Elvis’ eyes darken a little as he moved his knee in between your legs. ‘‘So mouthy too. You never learn, do ya, sweetness?’’

You opened your mouth to give him another sassy remark that was already burning hot on your tongue, but he shut you right up when his large hand slipped in your panties, two of his fingers easily finding your clit. Your mouth formed into a small ‘O’ shape, before you sank your teeth into your lower lip as he skillfully started circling his fingers against your most sensitive spot. Your legs automatically spread further, tightening the fabric of your panties around his hand. You should feel exposed underneath him when he was looking at you with those hungry eyes, maybe a little shy, but instead it made you feel a certain sense of power. While Elvis knew he had you right where he wanted every time, you had him in the same way. You had the power to turn this man into a moaning mess if you wanted to and while that happened many nights before, tonight you felt like being a bit of a pillow princess. Being a cigarette girl was hard work, after all. Elvis’ grip on your wrists tightened as you moaned pornographically when his two fingers were removed from your clit and dipped inside of your velvety walls instead, making him groan at the feeling and the sound that left your mouth. He was getting you ready for him as he softly fingered you, thumb circling your clit as he leaned down to plant soft open mouthed kissed along your jawline and in your neck, licking up some of the dried blood that still tainted your skin. You were always ready for him, but you grabbed onto his hair to keep him close and allowed him to spoil you with his long fingers. As he curled up his fingers when he was knuckle deep inside of you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your hands tugged at his locks, toes curling against the sheets. He immediately knew he found your special spot and lifted his head a little to look down at you, his own lips parted as he was concetrated on making you feel good. You grabbed his face in between your hands, torso rising from the bed as you pressed your forehead against his.

‘‘Fuck,’’ you cursed, tip of your nose touching his. ‘‘I love you,’’ you moaned absentmindedly as you captured his lips in a sloppy kiss, but he was quick to pull back. His fingers came to a stop and as you opened your eyes to look up at him, you felt your blood run cold. Shit. You had completely ruined the night. This was surely the last time you’d ever see Elvis Presley, let alone be this close to him. He pulled his fingers out of you and you had to bite your tongue to hold back a whine. You braced yourself to be sent away and to never come back, you were sure he would spare you the ‘’humans and vampires could never be together’’ speech. You sat up as he now on his knees in front of you, ready to leave, but instead you were roughly pushed back in the place you had been writhing underneath him a few seconds ago. ‘‘I didn’t say you could leave, doll,’’ he grinned with a teasing head tilt, fingers hooking under your panties. You didn’t even have time to react as he slid the fabric down your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. You were never seeing those back. Leaving the suite without your panties underneath your work uniform had been normal after meeting Elvis. The underwear he wore disappeared as quick as yours did and when he grabbed your ankles and put your legs flat against his chest, all your earlier worries flew right out of the window. You didn’t care that he didn’t say it back, knowing what was about to come now. You were okay with the fact that those three little words would probably never leave Elvis Presley’s mouth, as long as he’d fuck you and make you forget about the world and everyone else in it.

Your entire body felt as if it was being lit on fire when he slipped the tip of his cock through your folds, mixing your juices with his own arousal. With his arm wrapped around your thighs, you were completely trapped in his grip and the only thing you could do was moan and grab onto your own hair. You didn’t want him, no, you needed him. Needed him so bad to the point where you were nearly to tears and he knew it. He knew it so damn well. But he loved teasing you more than anything. He loved shutting you up and leaving you speechless, he loved making you groan out desperately when he rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit. Though every single time before you even had the chance to protest and tell him to just fuck you already, he pushed himself inside of you. No matter how needy you were and how ready you were for him, he was always gentle the first few seconds, making sure you were doing okay. He always waited for your approval, whether it was a small nod or you just straight up telling him. This time you went for the nod, not being able to form a coherent sentence when he was balls deep inside of you. A smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he started thrusting, picking up speed every few seconds and your toes were curling with every thrust. The room was filled with the smell of sex and cigars he had smoked beforehand, moans and grunts that were coming from both of you bouncing off the walls. You were sure that anyone who would walk by the door outside of the suit could hear what was happening on the other side of the door but neither of you seemed to give a damn. He was intoxicated with you and the feeling of being burried inside of you, his plumb lips kissing the side of your feet as his hands were wrapped around your ankles. Your hands were flying to the sheets and you could feel your nails digging into the palms of your hands through the silky fabric you were squeezing. You’ve been with other men before Elvis and though you had always been adventurous in the bedroom, nothing could ever compare to this. No one could ever compare to this man. As you opened your eyes to look at him, you felt your heart flutter inside your chest, tears burning in your ears. God, you loved him so much, but you could never be with him. And that damn near killed you.

Elvis’ movements slowed down as he noticed a tear rolling down your cheeks, slowly bringing your legs down as he let go of your ankles. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow kiss. One that was filled with passion, lust and love. You wanted him to love you back as much as you did. You wanted him, all of him, for the rest of your pathetic human life. Instead of your tears scaring him off, he stilled his movements and caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the tear that rolled down. He slowly pulled out of you and took your hands in his, letting himself sit back against the head board of the bed. ‘‘C’mere, princess,’’ he whispered and you did as told, letting him pull you along and on top of him. You planted your knees on the bed on either side of his waist, grabbing onto his shaft to guide him back to your entrance. You slowly sank back onto him and leaned into his touch when he cupped your face, kissing the palm of his hand. ‘‘My pretty doll. Even when she cries,’’ he grinned teasingly, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, rolling your eyes as you quickly wiped away a tear, placing your hands on his shoulders. ‘‘Shut up and let me fuck you in peace,’’ you said with a wiggle of your eyebrows, moving your hips as your fingertips played with the hair in the nape of his neck. He let you use him for your personal enjoyment, hands resting on your hips as he gently guided your thrusts. But you didn’t miss his eyes lingering at your neck most of the time, tongue hungrily licking his lips. Since he had met you, he gave up on useless blood bags and nameless girls in his bed. The only person he fed from was you and while he just had a taste earlier, you knew he was still hungry. Your hands moved from his neck to your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail with your hands as you slightly tilted your head, exposing your skin to him even more. You grinned as his fingers dug into your hips and looked at him with soft eyes, smiling sweetly. ‘‘I know you’re hungry for more,’’ you whispered, giving him the approval he wanted and needed. While he had fed from you a few times before to the point of you nearly fainting, he didn’t want that to happen again. He never fed you his blood to heal up either because he was scared that something would happen in the time his blood was in your system and you would be cursed with immortality just like he was. You, on the other hand, would not mind that at all and has been scheming and cooking up ideas to get his blood in your body. You didn’t wanted to sit there on his bed after sex, sipping your orange juice and munching on the snacks you carried on your work tray. You wanted to be like him, strong and powerful, and you wanted to be with him for the rest of forever. ‘‘Take as much as you want. I’m a strong girl, ya know,’’ you grinned his way and he eyed you suspiciously, laughing softly as he replaced your hand in your hair with his, his other hand in between your shoulder blades as his lips were on your neck without him even questioning anything you had in mind. Your eyes fluttered shut as you slowed down your thrusts a bit so it’d be easier for him to do what you wanted him so badly to do. As his lips parted and you felt his pointy fangs pressing against your flesh, your hands flew to his shoulders. You clung onto him for dear life, moaning as pain rushed from your neck to your brain, clenching your jaw. Elvis felt your muscles tensing and softly caressed your back, drawing small circles on your skin with his fingertips. It relaxed you as it always did and soon the pain turned into pleasure, your head hanging in your neck as you were still moving your hips slow and gentle. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, fingers disappearing into his dark locks once more as you pressed your chest against his, wanting to be even closer to him than you already were. His hand that was on your back moved to your ass, his palm squeezing the flesh softly as he sucked on your neck harder and it didn’t take you long to see white. He could hear the sound of your heartbeat slowing down and your muscles weakening, but when he was about to pull back, you pushed your hand against the back of his head with the strength you had left inside of you, not allowing him to move away. He could easily pull back seeing as he was much stronger than you were, but he figured you knew what you were doing. He also knew how stubborn you were, always reassuring him whenever he felt like he took too much from you, and that you liked it when it happened. And that was the truth. You loved being pampered by him when he had gotten you dizzy and he loved pampering you, but your slowing heartbeat was worrying him now. You wanted to keep him right where he was, but your muscles couldn’t keep your arm up anymore and you let it fall down his back, slumping alongside your own body. He pulled back and looked at you and the state you were in – even when he nearly drained the life out of you, you were still grinning at him. And you were still gorgeous doing so.

He had you lifted off of his lap and laid down on the bed in a second and you closed your eyes, smiling to yourself like a fool. He wasn’t going to be happy with you, because you were giving him an ultimatum tonight. You knew it was selfish and you shouldn’t let him choose, but you wanted this with every fibre of your being. You figured he’d forgive you for it later. You could faintly hear him walking around the room and the sound of glasses clinking along with the noise of the mini fridge door opening and closing. As you felt the bed dip, you slowly opened your eyes and looked at the man in front of you, holding out a glass of juice. ‘‘Y/N, drink, c’mon,’’ he urged you, sitting down behind you, your back pressed against his chest. He put the glass to your lips and you immediately turned your head, shaking your head. ‘‘I’m not drinking that,’’ you said weakly, though there was a hint of determination in your voice. The only juice you wanted was his blood. You heard him sigh deeply and even though you couldn’t see, you just knew he was rolling his eyes. ‘‘It’ll make you feel better, baby. Drink up,’’ he tried again, letting the glass follow your mouth with you avoiding it each time. He didn’t want to but laughed softly, making you weakly laugh along. You sat up as far as you could, slowly turning around in his arms to face him with a soft smile on your face, eyes droopy and dazed.

‘‘I think there’s something else that will make me feel better,’’ you said, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your lips, kissing the palm of his free hand. He immediately knew what you meant and what you were up to and put the orange juice on the night stand, returning his attention back to you. His jaw clenched as he gave you a warning glare, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Turning you, spending the rest of his life with you without any worries clouding their minds. But you were young and full of life and he was scared that one day you’d get bored of him, blame him for what he had done to you. He didn’t miss the determination in your eyes and he knew you wanted this. You had dropped hints here and there but he always declined. He couldn’t bare the thought of you hating him. ‘‘Elvis, please. I want to be with you,’’ you said with a soft sigh, placing his palm against your cheek. ‘‘Forever and always,’’ you added, hoping to persuade him with your sweet words and pouty lips. He sighed deeply, staying silent for a long time. Too long for you. You huffed and threw his hand down on the bed, crawling over to the night stand to reach for the orange juice, giving up hope. Before you could even lift the glass, he pulled you back in between his legs and grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him.

‘‘I need to know you’re sure about this, doll,’’ he said sternly, his eyes boring into yours. Excitement made your heart flutter and you tried to grab onto his wrists with as much strength as you could, nodding your head immediately. ‘‘Transitioning is not easy. Being a vampire is not easy, Y/N. I need you to know that the first few weeks, maybe even months, will be hard. Certain things will be impossible for you, like having ch-’’ You stopped his rambling by pushing your finger against his lips, not even wanting him to end that sentence. You never thought about having children and there was always adoption, right? Right now, all you could think about was being with him.

‘‘I know, Elvis,’’ you said, smiling softly at him as you removed your finger. ‘‘I want this. There is nothing in the whole wide world I want more than this. You and me, always,’’ you leaned in to kiss his lips and he kissed you back, letting go of your face he was still holding. As you pulled back and looked at him expectantly, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair before moving his palm to his lips. Your weak heart skipped a beat as he sunk his teeth into his own palm, drawing blood. He looked at it for a second before he reached it out to you and you stared at the crimson fluid running down his palm and forearm. ‘‘Hurry, baby. It’s going, going aaand-’’ he laughed as you wrapped your lips around the small wound he created, eager because it could heal up any second. You sucked the blood off of his palm, ignoring the metallic taste on your tongue as you made sure to lick his hand clean. The two small punctured wounds had healed up and there was barely any blood left, apart from some on his arm. You could immediately feel your energy returning to your body and your cheeks regained its lively color again, wide eyes finding his.

‘‘Okay, now kill me. Break my neck,’’ you said impatiently as you sat there on the middle of the bed on your knees, eyes squeezed shut nervously. Elvis opened and closed his mouth in disbelief, not even knowing what to say as he just watched you sit there for a few seconds, laughing. Honestly, breaking your neck would be their fastest option and he knew how impatient you could get. ‘‘Stop laughing! Hurry and do it. I wanna quit my job by the end of the night,’’ you urged him on, only opening your eyes when you felt his lips against yours. He pulled back, hands moving to your jaw. He gently pressed his forehead against yours, smiling as his eyes found yours. He didn’t even ask if you were sure anymore. He could see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you were urging him to snap your neck right here and now.

‘‘You and me, kid,’’ he whispered, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. ‘‘Always and forever,’’

‘‘Always and forever,’’ you breathed out, repeating his words. One more kiss was planted on your lips, before the world went black and your body prepared itself to return with a whole new hunger for life.

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

watch the smoke pour out the doors

summary: elvis presley, the real elvis presley, not whatever they like claiming is the man should be dead. at the very least he should be looking about two decades older than the man in front of you. and yet. elvis presley wishes the las vegas hilton- formerly the international- was a pile of rubble or ash. he enlists your help after a chance meeting. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 8012 warnings: major character death! choking. stalking behavior. the colonel being the worst. being trapped in one place. general depression. elvis is an asshole in this. fade to back sex ( p in v ). kind of yandere elvis? blood. vampire bites and general vampire shenanigans. mention of burn scars. fire in relation to buildings. excessive use of nicknames like lil bunny and spitfire. author’s note: heed that first warning y'all. this does not have a happy ending. i've had this brewing since september/october of last year and it's partially based on @venus-haze's vampire elvis headcanons seen here. so what really stuck with me in her comment about the fact that she took "I’ve been playing this mausoleum for 1,000 years" and ran with it. i took bits and bobs from her headcanons and ta da. also the fire i reference happening in 1981 did actually happen. i hope y'all like this even if this ending is a doozy. y'all know the drill real elvis or austin elvis can be imagined- if the moodboard didn't clue you in. also for musical vibes i have literally only ever really truly listened to meant to be yours from the heathers musical. also i did not add a tag list because this is- this is a fic and i was not about to make any of y'all tumble into it without wanting to.

Las Vegas is hot and is so sun filled that you hate it. You've always hated it but that might not have been the city's fault. Once upon a time you thought it would be your salvation but isn't that always the joke with everyone when it comes to the city. The salvation away from LA, because if you fail there Las Vegas will welcome you with open arms and remind you that what happens there stays there. It keeps you from going back to Memphis with your tail between your legs and being forced to tell your parents that you failed at your big dream. The dream that they supported you on but always figured you'd fail at. Your job pays the bills and you keep your clothes on, which considering the amount of bills you have, well that was a feat for you to achieve.

Working the front desk at the Las Vegas Hilton was challenging, mostly due to the customers with their requests that occasionally bordered on silly and nonsensical but you could handle it. It was nothing too horrible and there was certain pleasure in learning that you managed to pull off keeping some of the higher class- the celebrity clients happy. Of course, nights like this- busy nights with half your staff gone because of any number of problems- made you want to set fire to the building so that you didn't have to deal with this job. Your boss has you running around in what you swear is every direction until she physically stops you with her hands, gripping your shoulders and forcing you to stay put for just a minute.

"Elvis wants a delivery to his room." She says, her face twisting into one of sheer displeasure.

You raise your eyebrow and shake your head. "You mean the Elvis impersonator up in the penthouse. Why does everyone insist on calling him Elvis? We all know it's not him him- like-" The look she gives you is one you've realized means you need to shut up right in that exact moment because if you didn't you were liable to get yourself in a whole lot of trouble so you swallow the rest of your sentence and roll your eyes. "Got it, me and penthouse and his delivery of whatever to his room. Got it."

Your boss mouths a quick thank you before pointing to the kitchen area. It doesn't take you very long to reach there despite your heels and aching feet but it does take the kitchen staff a minute to realize you're standing there all gussied up ready to take whatever it is Mr. Presley wants. What he wants is apparently a feast befitting of a king- heh- and more packs of cigars than you thought one human being capable of smoking in any reasonable time frame but you remember those pictures of him back in the day. The pictures you'd see in your parents' house, in your grandparents' house of him smoking something. Maybe it was just someone who was honestly committed to the bit even if it meant wrecking their lungs and their voice. Once you actually manage to get everything, it's a surprisingly quick walk to the elevator and to the penthouse. For once your heels don't wobble as they have an annoying tendency to do so when you get this much stuff needing to be carried and you easily make it to the door of the penthouse and knock only to realize that your series of knocks have made the door open all on its own.

The room itself is dark, the curtains drawn so not even the light of the strip finds its way into it. It feels not like a tomb, you reason, with the temperature reaching levels that feel almost as if you've entered one. The cold wraps around you and has you shivering in your light blouse and work pants as you look for a free space, a table really to set down the items he requested. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the lack of light but you manage to avoid hitting anything and set the tray onto what you're mostly positive is a table- be it an end table or an actual dining table. You straighten up after you set it down and something feels off to you, feels as if you're being watched. That can't be though, yes Elvis- or whoever it's supposed to be up here had requested the items but that didn't mean they were stalking you from the dark.

Except the feeling doesn't go away and you know so very well that you ought to move, that you should get out of the room and back downstairs where it's busy and you don't feel the faint sensation of worrying that you'll be murdered. You don't though, it's as if your feet are firmly planted in that spot, like you want to see just why you're feeling this particular way. After what feels like an eternity you feel the air around you shift, a small gust of warmth pass by your back and that is the cue for your body to finally turn around. What you see when you turn around shocks you to your very core and makes you think you've got to be hallucinating.

It's like you've seen a ghost when you realize who you're staring at in the darkness of the room. There's always been whispers that Elvis is actually still alive, that he's alive and the person who's been recording the music and performing shows was still him. After all, despite so much information about his relationship with his manager coming out there was no lawsuit coming from the family and that had to mean he was alive. Looking at the man in front of you, looking at the parts you can see of his face that aren't obscured by a half mask over his face- you think they might be right just not in the way everyone assumed. After all, if you take off the mask, the man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1972 or maybe 1974.

Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. You're familiar with all the facial features that make up one Elvis Presley and seeing them up close and personal as opposed to on stage? There's no mistaking who's in front of you. It's Elvis fucking Presley in the flesh, looking nowhere near the almost 60 he should be. His eyes though- the eyes you're looking at are just as stunning as the blue ones you've always heard about but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

"That's new. Most of ya jus' hide and run away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.

"Do I seem like most people, Elvis?" You ask, you accent thickening as your hand against your will finds its way to his mask-covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.

"Do that and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." His warning is accompanied by his eyes narrowing and his canines finding themselves on full display, showing you just how dangerous he could be. Yet, you find yourself raising your own eyebrows.

"Ya mean like you've done with a lot of my former coworkers?" It's suddenly making sense, how a lot of the times girls who went up here wouldn't come back and would suddenly have family emergencies. "Ya said it yourself, most of us jus' hide and run away. Do I look scared?"

The laugh that leaves his mouth sounds downright evil and sinister, like he truly is a devil waiting to ruin anyone who comes near him and you can't help the rush of arousal and fear that shudders through your system. His grip tightens on your wrist. "Oh, darlin'. Ya don't look it but that heart o' yours. Oh, she's betrayin' ya like nothin' else. Tellin' me you want to bolt like a lil scared bunny."

You hate how you swear you can feel your heart jump at those words, proving him right in the worst sort of way. You want to argue with him, want to tell him that his hearing must be going off and he's hearing someone else's heartbeat but you know better- you know from the glint you see in his eyes that there isn't a chance for that lie to fly. Instead you purse your lips and move to pull your wrist out of his grasp. "I haven't yet. And ya haven't tried to kill me yet."

His grip loosens but he takes the opportunity to pull you closer just enough so when he leans forward his lips are brushing your ear as his whisper is practically a short brush of air against it. "Yet." Finally, he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, his eyes darting to the tray you brought. "All in one piece. You are better than the rest of 'em."

If anyone else were to say that, if you had heard it from an Elvis that looked the age he was supposed to be and didn't look like Dracula you might have preened, enjoying the compliment for what it was. Hearing it from him? Hearing it from a man who you feel will murder you the second you turn your back? All that accomplishes is making you shiver in fear. When you look at his face you see a grin that tells you that's exactly what he wanted to see.

You realize in that moment that you need to leave, you don't know if Elvis is planning on trying to hurt you or if he's just toying with you. Either way it's- it sets you on edge enough that your feet that had seemingly forgotten how to move manage to remember how as you turn away from Elvis, not bothering to give him a response beyond what your body had already inadvertently done.

"There we go, there's that runnin' I'm used to." Elvis chuckles, allowing you to move further away from him slowly inching to the door. "Even if ya practically movin' slow as molasses. Scared but bein' smart 'bout it, ain't cha?"

An answer dances on the tip of your tongue, a joke or a quip about how you'd be a fool to turn your back on a predator or to bolt from a predator. Either way you'd be seen as his prey and arguably easy prey at that. The answer dies on your lips as you feel a rush of air by you and see Elvis opening and holding the door to his room open for you. His grin looks full of promise and is all teeth in a way that sets you on edge.

"Go on, darlin', I'll let ya go. Ain't like I can't find ya 'round here." His eyes rake over your form and you'd think you'd be disgusted as you normally are when someone looks at you like that. Instead you have to suppress the shiver of something that passes through you. "'Specially if ya do that."

You don't dignify his words with a response as you exit hearing some whisper of the word fun and a dark laugh. If the speed of your steps increase once the door shuts. Well, that was your own business between you and whatever God saw fit to abandon you just a bit ago.

As it turns out Elvis is a very persistent man- a fact not tempered and instead heightened by the years he's lived. True to his word, he did know exactly where to find you though actually meeting up with you seemed to be beyond his reach. No, instead you found yourself being bombarded with gifts. Gifts you'd think Elvis couldn't provide and yet there they were. You wondered just how he was getting these things to you but the thought didn't fill you with any sort of delight so you chose not to dwell. It all comes to a head when before your shift one night there was a new outfit on your doorstep. A simple red blouse with a black pinstripe skirt. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem and yet the true issue was the note.

Took a guess on your size, lil Bunny. You can tell me if I'm right tonight after my show.

It is your size and you have idea how he could tell that let alone how he knew these were your favorite colors and that you favored pinstripes for your dresswear. If you dwell on it for too long some sense of fear and flattered feelings settle deep within your stomach.

The only reason you wear the outfit is because every other work appropriate outfit you have is currently in the wash. A fact that is true purely due to your own laziness and is something you want to curse yourself for. You consider actually going to the show, entirely aware that you could but you're loath to give him the satisfaction. Instead you wait until around the time the show ends to make your way to his room utilizing your ability to have extra keys of rooms to make your way inside. He's not there yet so you sit in a chair and wait in the dark. Dramatic, yes, but you figure it seemed fitting given the circumstances. Perhaps he might even respect the flourish of it, the flourish of you waiting for his own dramatic person in the dark as if he couldn't rip your throat out in an instant.

You almost doze off waiting for him but when he finally arrives he opens his door with a sigh, completely ignoring you before he walks slowly over to you, silent as a church mouse. He opens his mouth to say something as his teeth glitter in the light of the strip coming from the window but you cut him off.

"Is this all supposed to charm me?" A simple question but one that has him chuckling lowly as you try and get up only to be stopped by his hand on your shoulder.

"It working?" His eyes zero in on your skirt before he shrugs. "Fits you like a damn glove. Knew I guessed right."

"You guessed-" You try and take his hand off your shoulder before realizing it only makes him push down just that little bit harder. "I didn't ask for clothes or jewelry or- for you to even still be trying to talk to me. What do you even want from me? My blood?"

"If I wanted to suck ya dry of all your blood, I'd've done it already darlin'. Nah, that'd be a damn waste of a spitfire like ya." Elvis murmurs as his eyes trace your form. "Think we'll have more fun with you alive and me alive as I'll ever be. 'Less ya gonna tell me you've gotta death wish."

You scoff at him, your lips curling up into a sneer. "I didn't even know ya were honestly still alive, what makes ya think ya were a part of any death wish I might have?"

"The fact that your heart insists on goin' a mile a minute 'round me. Or when you shivered like ya did. Might not have realized I was 'round but now that ya do-" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Think ya'd enjoy dyin' with me drainin' the life from ya."

You shouldn't think the idea is enjoyable but you can't help the way your legs reflexively clench together. "Mr. Pres-"

"Elvis. Lil bunny, lil spitfire of a woman. You were waitin' f'me in the dark. Could've rushed in 'n torn out that pretty lil throat of yours 'fore I realized it was you. And wouldn't that've been a cryin' shame. Waste of a woman like ya."

It's flattering the way he calls you a spitfire and the way he leans close to you whispering it to you like a long lost lover. You reason your reaction stems from not being intimate with anyone for a while but truly perhaps it just is Elvis's natural charm. A shake of your head is all you manage to do before clearing your throat to speak. "Elvis. That- That was the point not- Ya needed to be caught off guard. Startled. And-"

The laugh he lets out is low and mocking. "Oh darlin' you wanted to surprise a vampire. You- God, you're somethin' else. Maybe- Stay here tonight. Don't got plans, know that."

The unfortunate truth of the matter that he's correct. You don't have plans but spending the night and staying there with him has you shaking your head once again. That is the exact opposite of anything you want to do. "No. Find- They'll send up another girl if ya ask them to or have- I don't know, I'm not staying here tonight."

His hand that's been on your shoulder moves to your neck and traces the lines of it gently as he leans forward and lets a nail act almost as if he's going to prepare it to be pierced by his teeth. "Not even if I have somethin' to tell ya. Somethin' interestin'?"

Your face perks up for a moment at the thought of just what he might want to tell you before you frown. "Not even- I want to go home Mr-"

"Elvis. Not. Mr. Presley. Not to ya." The words are growls in your ear and involuntarily your mouth opens up and lets out a soft whimper and whine. At the noise his hand moves to stroke your clavicle. "Just for tonight. Won't- Don't plan on doing what your body seems to want me t'do. Just wanna talk."

You use the fact that his hand isn't directly pushing you down to slip out of the chair. His eyes widen in shock before he moves to pull you into his arms. He doesn't bother to move fast, more preoccupied with seeing your reaction. You take a step or two back and he drops his arms to his side before motioning to the door. "'Nother night then, Y/N. 'Nother night." A beat. "I won't stop."

Whatever you want to say just comes out as a hiss of anger almost like you're a cat before you slink out the door. Once you're in the elevator you sink to the floor and try to steady your breathing, you try to tamp down on your arousal and try and ignore the part of your brain craving to find out just what he wanted to talk to you about.

That craving doesn't leave you and if you didn't know any better you'd think it was supernatural the way it worms its way into your mind and settles in popping up at the worst possible times. It only takes a week before you find yourself waiting for him in the dark again, wearing a pinstripe pair of pants and the red blouse he had given you. You don't mean to fall asleep waiting for him this time but you do, only to wake up when you feel the presence of something staring at you. By this point his show had been over for an hour and he's in a robe that looks- soft. "Rise n' shine, lil bunny."

You scramble a bit, shocked and mortified that you fell asleep before you look at Elvis who is just sitting casually as can be in a chair next to yours. Your eyes drift over him before you bite your lip. "I'm only here to- I want to know what ya were going to tell me last week. And I want ya to stop- I want to not have a bunch of gifts every day."

His shoulders move in a shrugging motion before he shakes his head. "I got no problem tellin' ya about it, but 'less you're gonna help, ya still gonna get the gifts."

"Why do ya- I don't want- That's not how you charm someone into helping ya." You cycle through words faster than you mean to, more confused than anything else at what he's saying. "What do ya even need my help for?"

It's a valid question, you figure, after all he's a vampire and you are still very much a human but he hums, waving off the question before moving his chair to face you and to essentially pin you into being stuck in your own chair. "It's how I figure you'll be charmed." He pauses. "Lil outta practice wit' th'other one. As for what I need ya help for-" He trails off and pulls off the mask obscuring part of his face to reveal a burn scar that is noticeable enough to have you gasping. "Need ya to help me avoid doin' this again. Don't feel like burnin' up like that on the other side. Let alone anywhere else."

Several moments pass before you finally find the words to articulate your question that aren't just straight confused noises. "Are ya asking me to help ya set fire to something?" He cannot be asking you to do that. You have to be dead and this is just a very vivid post death hallucination.

For his part Elvis nods slowly, looking you dead in the eye with the most laconic face as he answers you. "I'm askin' ya t'help me set fire to this place."

"The hotel?" Your tone shifts up about 2 octaves and you swear your voice just whistles instead of actually speak. "Where I work? Where you perform?"

That same laconic look doesn't leave Elvis's face. "The one I tried to set fire to in '81 only to burn half my face? That very one, lil bunny."

You can't help but laugh though it's not something normal and sensible that comes out of your mouth. No, it's a high pitched mildly terrified giggle that leaves your mouth. He's- He is asking you to commit arson with him. To help him set fire to a place he's performed at since the 1970s. That you work at. He cannot be serious. "You're- You're joking. I- I have Elvis Presley who is apparently a vampire stalking me so that I can help him set fire to a hotel because you fucked up the first time?"

The giggle is still there before his hand darts out and wraps around your throat, tightening just slightly. "Keep laughin' lil one. Keep laughin' and I'll rip that throat clean out. Won't even be recognizable."

His hand steals your breath away from you as you try to take a breath only to have him tighten it more. He- He won't kill you, you don't think, this is just to scare you, to make you want to do what he's asking for but your vision is starting to blur just a bit and you can't help the way your eyes are starting to roll back in your head before suddenly you can breathe. You cough a little violently as air rushes back into your lungs before you glare at him, pushing the chair back in order to stand up. "You keep threatening to kill me, ya sure ya want my help? I don't- I'm leaving. This is a joke. You're a joke just like ya were-"

In a rush Elvis has you pulled tightly to his chest, his arms snaking around you and tightening like a python. "Stopped being a joke the second this happened to me don't- Heard enough of that from all those goddamn tabloids and from the reports of my death."

You're going to die, this is how you're going to die. Not by starvation or homelessness or by some madman murdering you on the streets. No, you're going to die because a man who was a has been before he became a vampire and is even more of one now despite three more albums under his belt and another Grammy for that eighties gospel album. Still you have to fight him, he's not- if he wants your help he won't kill you. You're- he's obsessed with you, isn't he? Wants your help that bad?

"Elvis, I think you're just a lonely scared little boy in a man's- excuse me- vampire's body." You snarl, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, as if you have any chance of winning against a vampire with superhuman strength. As if you'd have any chance winning against him even if he was human. Elvis Presley never had been a small man and you had never been the strongest of women.

"And if I am? Ya gonna be my salvation? Gonna save me from this hell on Earth? This eternal damnation forced on me by a Dutch lyin' bastard?" He leans closer to you, his breath ghosting over your face, over your lips as he takes breaths he doesn't need to and as he watches your eyes have a fire in them that warms him from the inside out. "Gonna make me feel better about it, darlin'? Ya really think ya good enough t'do that? That I like ya 'nough for that t'work?"

"Ya haven't killed me yet." You spit at him, just narrowly avoiding actually spitting on him. "I'm still alive and ya seem pretty damn obsessed with getting me of all the people in this town to help ya. So, yes, I think ya like me just enough."

At your words Elvis's grip on you loosens and he steps back like you burned him for a moment before he practically hisses at you. "'m only obsessed 'cause ya seem like the only person who could do it." A beat and something flashes in his blue and red tinged eyes. "And ya- yer from home." Memphis is what he means but he doesn't think to clarify. He takes a step forward and grabs at your chin even as you let out a snarl of your own. "Ya hate this place as much as I do. And think ya'd like seein' it burn down 'round ya. Don't lie. Can tell if ya do."

A quick dart of your eyes to the side is all the answer you can give for a moment as you try to compose yourself. "Doesn't mean I wanna help ya. Doesn't mean I'm gonna help ya."

For the briefest of moments, Elvis looks human and looks like a little boy when he looks at you. He's- You recognize the look, it's almost practically begging. "Please. This place- it ain't good for anyone. Me, especially but can't tell me it's done a bit of good for anyone other than who owns it."

He's right, as much as you loathe to admit it and it shows in how you purse your lips. "I'm not- I ain't agreeing to this, but tell me just what your hairbrained plan is."

As it turns out, Elvis's plan takes until the break of dawn to explain and two orders of room service delivered by one man who goes back downstairs and a woman who- well, served as Elvis's food until she fell limp in arms. There was something enrapturing about watching the act, watching how her mouth contorted into one of pleasure as she came in his arms before you could slowly see the life drain from her until his mouth came off her neck with a pop and a squelch. When he looks at you his lips are covered in her blood and he can't help but give you a toothy grin. "Sounds like you're jealous of her and me. Can't risk killing ya but maybe- maybe soon lil one."

That morning you call in and dream of his lips against your neck and of the pleasure he'd give you because- he doesn't want to kill you. You'd just get all the joys of being fed from but none of the tragedy. If you avoid him that night, you blame it on your shift. He doesn't call you out on the lie.

Planning arson between two people, one of whom has a larger bank account but can't leave his residence and the other who has a smaller bank account but can roam as she pleases is harder than one would think. Yet you both persevere, meeting up every other night to gather the items needed. What's been tripping you up for ages has been the floor plans and it shows in how you've been getting snappier with Elvis each passing meeting. He gives back in spades, somehow being worse than he was your first and second meetings but tonight- tonight he seems a little melancholy and a melancholy Elvis is a very human Elvis and one you find- one you could see a future with perhaps. A twisted one but one that flutters into your brain on nights you can't sleep or nights you can sleep despite dreams of the two of you mouths red and snarling as you feed.

"At this point ya might as well kill me." Your accent has been returning with a vengeance the more time you spend with Elvis any acting classes you had to train it out of you falling by the wayside. "We ain't gonna find a proper floor plan and without that we can't-"

"Y/N." His tone is laced with a warning- don't test him, not tonight. "I got time- wanna get this done but 'nother week ain't gonna hurt."

"Says the man who hasn't fed from me and is gonna live forever." Your eyes are blazing when you look at him before you continue. "I wanna get this over with. Wanna have- Wanna see if you'll do somethin' if we get it done."

Elvis's eyes narrow looking at you for a moment before he rubs his hand over his mouth. "Oh. That's- Lil Bunny. That's the problem? Ya want me t'do somethin' to ya? Have my wicked way with ya?"

You can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears before you can even articulate an answer. "That's not- Ya keep looking at me. Like- like I'm someone ya might wanna- No, I don't."

"Ya do." He moves to lean over your chair, putting your face at eye level with his chest. "Ya wanna know what it's like to be in my bed. Wanna know what it's like to please me."

You do, lord above you do. You're essentially committing a crime for him and for what? For the pleasure of knowing you've set fire to a horrible hotel? That you've freed him from this place? For nothing that gives you any satisfaction. "Is that so wrong? Ya won't kill me when there's a line of bodies I can probably trace back to your first year as a vampire. Ya won't feed from me because then where's your help for this silly scheme. Ya won't fuck me because-"

"Listen darlin, honey, satnin. I- I get a lil lonely up here. I know what ya gonna say- jus' leave but you've seen how it is." Seen how he can't leave the room for fear someone's going to actually realize that he's Elvis Presley and not some impersonator. Seen how people already mock the fact that he's still around- after all hadn't you? Seen how he looks out at the view of Vegas, almost wistful when he thinks you're not looking. "I haven't killed ya but- you're- ya remind me of how I was. Always been- the way I am but not not like this. Don't feel like ruinin' it is all."

His hand reaches out to touch your face and it's so gentle that you can't help but nuzzle into it and take a quick inhale of breath. "Elvis."

He hums, noting how your eyes shut and for the briefest of moments he remembers what it was like to have someone whisper his name like that. Like a prayer you're scared will float away and fail if you say it too loud. He's missed that, he's missed so much of what it was like to be human, to be able to live freely even if back in the day his freedom still had him confined. You just look so sweet nuzzling his palm, acting as if you're the love of his life, acting as if you belong there. Maybe that's why he had been cursed otherwise he doubts he would have made it to this decade or at least made it to this decade in a state you might have wanted him in. "Y/N?"

"Why are you being like this?" You whisper, still nuzzling at his palm. "You- From the stories I've heard you're- you've never been a completely good man. I haven't seen you be a good man."

Another hand, his free hand moves to cup the opposite side of your face and forces you to look up at him. His eyes always such a stormy blue with that ring of red since you came across him have taken on a lighter hue and it takes your breath away as you feel his thumbs stroke your cheek. "Haven't had a reason t'be one. Look where it got me, satnin. Haven't pushed ya away yet, maybe you're- maybe you're the thing to settle this violent angry head of mine. So pretty- so gentle when ya wanna be. Let me take care of ya, hm?"

His hand moves away from you and you chance it almost in a trance before you look at him and bite your lip. "Take care of me?" The subtext is clear as your heart starts to race and your legs clench together.

What was the harm in treating you tonight? Maybe it would give you the right incentive to find the floor plans, to look harder than you had been. Maybe that was the real trouble you were having. You were too distracted by your desire and want for him. His hand moves down to your chest, undoing the buttons of your blouse slowly. "Take care of ya. Jus' for tonight."

That night you find yourself gasping for air, screaming his name, arching your back and snarling all at once. You find that when you leave you play with the bite mark on your breast and shudder remembering his words said against your ear more than once. "Might make ya mine if ya do well enough."

It still takes another two weeks to get the floor plans, the proper up to date ones. Two weeks of finding yourself in Elvis's bed with him teasing you and making promises about his plans for you and him. But, as it turns out someone had been wanting to get a room at the hotel and well, you did work the front desk so you could handle getting them some accommodations for a fee of course. Elvis wastes no time in opening up the plans when you arrive that night with them in your hand, holding a bottle of champagne for you and the number of someone you had met on the bus for Elvis to enjoy his own drink. After she's on the floor and you're nursing your second flute of champagne you feel Elvis behind you wrapping his strong arms around your middle and pulling you close.

"Gonna turn ya when it's all ash. Won't be stuck here any longer, can do what I want again. Take ya all around the world." He whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping once he reaches your earlobe. "You're gonna look so fuckin' gourgous feedin'. Vicious as ya are. Ya did so good bringin' me dinner too. Wish I coulda shared her wit' ya. Soon, lil Bunny, soon."

There's an alarm in your head that goes off at those words, at the way he coos them while holding you. They feel off- fake somehow and you down that second glass the moment he lets go of you. Had- You knew very well he wasn't a nice man, you've known this from the second you first spoke but he- there's no way he has any intention of changing you. He might be obsessed with you but that's because you've been the only person who can handle herself well enough to do this, hadn't it? You were going to get him to the finish line of burning down the hotel only to what burn with it yourself? Take the fall for a dead man? You file away the thoughts in your head for a later moment, if you thought about them now Elvis would know.

You smile at him almost saccharine. "Ya mean it? I'll be your vicious lil vampire queen?"

He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss not caring that he still has a trace of blood on his lips. "The second it's up in smoke. Promise."

Liar.

Las Vegas in August is disgusting, better than some places in the United States, but it's still hotter than Hades and feels nearly as suffocating despite the lack of humidity. A fact you keep pointing out to Elvis as you both hold small cans of gas.

"Should've killed ya like the res' of 'em. No one would've missed ya. Jus' another lil' girl in Vegas runnin' 'round thinkin' she could make it big." You see a flash of his teeth and you figure it's supposed to scare you but at this point you like to think you know better.

"If ya killed me who would be helpin' ya right now?" The way you speak is practically a sneer but you can't help it, not with how he just somewhat threatened to kill you. "Hurry up, people are going to start coming back and I don't-"

"It's 11PM and they're in Vegas the hell are they-" He starts before he starts to trot off to the area he's most familiar with- the stages. "Meet me by the damn elevator."

An eye roll is the only response he gets as he leaves you to your own thoughts as you pour the can of gasoline in a line between the already waiting containers of it. If all goes well the walls of fire you and Elvis hope to create will have the entire building up in smoke in no time at all. It makes it so you both have to be quick on each floor but you had taken precautions for this. You knew every way to get down the floors as quickly as you could and Elvis wouldn't leave you behind. After all, he kept talking about his lil' spitfire queen. Kept cooing the words at you in between planning and buying the gas and finding yourself spread across his sheets or above him.

And yet something felt different, you had that same feeling you did when he talked about how gorgeous you'd look feeding. It felt off. You try to shake the feeling away as you two reach the top of the building, his penthouse suite and cover it in extra gasoline. He wanted every bit of this room demolished, nothing salvageable but to do that you are currently feeling faintly high on the sheer amount of gasoline in the room and wondering just how no embers from the cigar he just lit have fallen yet. You almost miss the words he says when he looks over at you. "Ready to run?"

A shrug is your only answer before you try and take a deep breath. "Get in the elevator first, then toss it."

He obliges, letting you go first with a flourish that rather than delight you has your hackles raising. "Ladies first."

Elvis Presley used to be a gentleman. Elvis Presley is not a gentleman any more.

Right before the doors to the elevator close Elvis tosses his cigar between the door and as they shut you feel the rush of heat from the roaring blast it caused. This is the only floor you have to take the elevator for and it makes each consecutive floor easier. You both light a cigar and toss before running to the next floor, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat even as Elvis pulls you in for a harsh kiss his eyes blazing in the fire he had started with his cigar, looking practically manic with delight. The fire brings out the red in his eyes. It scares you.

"Calm down, Lil' Bunny. Almost there." He shouts practically sing songing the words as you rush down yet another flight of stairs to the second floor. "One more floor and you're mine. We'll be free. I'll be free."

There it is again, that nagging feeling that you're a means to an end for him. You brush it off one final time as you start to cough, the floors of smoke and blaring alarms of a sprinkler system that hasn't produced any water getting to you. "Jus' want this done, 'Vis."

Finally you reach the final floor, the bottom floor which is the most complicated. There's an extra exit, a fire exit in the stage area so you both agree that's the last room, that's the last place to be set ablaze and Elvis finds it almost poetic when he thinks about it. He stares at the doors for a moment before he enters with you, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world. He might, he might be able to run out of there fast enough but the smoke is starting to get to you and the heat from the blaze above and around you is making the area around you sweltering. "You said you'd turn me, Elvis. Once we get outside, right?" You have to shout before you cough over the roar of the blaze and how somehow it's starting blow toward you as you shut the door to leave you and him in the lone area not on fire yet.

The cigar in his mouth is lit and he contemplates knocking off the tip, letting it start to catch everything ablaze before he stops himself and nods. "Course, gonna do it the second you get some air in ya."

Your own cigar- the last cigar is lit and you're about to toss it before you stare at him, stare at him because that tone- that tone betrays his actual plan. "Why not now? I can- I can barely breathe in here, Elvis."

Those words have him tossing his cigar and have a whoosh of fire come up behind him as he walks towards you. "You'll be fine, lil spitfire. Y/N. You don't- Patience. Don't wanna rush forever."

Your mind goes blank as you drop the cigar you were holding and have to jump out of the way as a bit of fire starts to separate you and Elvis. He glances at the fire and growls, realizing he's very quickly going to be boxed in before he wooshes to a spot next to you. "Tryin' to kill me? 'Cause I won't-"

A crash can be heard of a bit of wood falling onto the stage and you jump before you cut him off. "Because you're not plannin' on it. Ya gonna- You're plannin' on killin' me, aren't ya?"

"Eatin' ya, actually. It's what ya wanted back when ya first saw me eat. Wanted to be fucked then sucked. I fucked ya now-" His words are cut off with a slap that he allows you to do because it gives him the ability to grab at your wrist. "Loose end, lil one. Either you go down for this or ya die. Gave ya the more pleasurable option."

"While telling me you were going to change me!" You snarl half running toward the door even as you inhale another bit of smoke causing you to cough more. "You- You've been usin' me this whole damn time! I- you said you'd make me your little queen."

He's faster and he has you pinned up against a wall as he feels the flames starting to inch toward you both and as you keep swallowing more and more smoke. "Ya called me a damn has been and a joke. Darlin' ya don't wanna spend eternity wit' me, ya jus' wanna run around spending an eternity doing whatever the hell ya want to do. Ain't gonna give ya something you think is a gift."

"You- I'm- I can't breathe." You choke out as you try and take deep breaths only to realize that the room is filling with grey smoke. He's fine because he doesn't need to breathe but you- you need air.

"Shame I didn't change ya before. Didn't give ya what ya wanted to use me for. Don't care 'bout me. Lil Memphis spitfire don't care 'bout the thing everyone loves 'bout the place. No wonder your mama and daddy don't want ya to come back." His tone is mocking as he keeps you pinned to the wall, despite inching himself closer to the door. He was going to escape and you were going to die by smoke inhalation if the fire didn't kill you first.

A breath of air enters your lungs suddenly as you find that Elvis lets you go, a bit of the fire catching onto his pant leg right as he reaches the door with you. You seize the opportunity and hit at the door with your body, trying to force it open as he steps on the offending burning fabric. even as another crash can be heard on the stage and you see more and more paint chips fluttering around both of you, or maybe that's ash you've never seen a fire this big. The door finally flings open and more fresh air for your lungs and to feed the fire. Elvis whooshes over to you and attempts to block your way out but for once you have the upper hand, managing to be on the outside of the building while Elvis is still just barely in there. He realizes his mistake, realizes what you just very well might do to him in an instant.

"Lil Bunny- I'll- Don't be rash. I'll do it. I'll do what I said I would." He coos even as the fire rushes around him, his hair becoming more messed up the more he stands there. His face getting more ashes on it the longer he stands there.

"Liar. Liar." You tilt your head and move to push him inside. "Pants on fire."

His eyes look down thinking you're telling him his pants are literally on fire and you take that as your opportunity to shut the door, locking it in a way only you know how. Within a moment he starts to push at the door.

"Y/N!" He shouts through the door. "I'll do it, just let me outta here! I'm- Ya don't want this on your conscious! I wasn't gonna kill ya! Baby- Darlin- Lil Bunny, let me out!"

"Not gonna believe a lyin' dead man, Presley!" You shout, knowing that you sound insane before you start to move away because he's right you don't want that on your conscious. You hear him shouting promises you doubt he'll keep and feel the fresh bite he had made on your chest burn as you walk away but you're able to fake being a victim among the crowd, the ashes covering your face and the way you keep coughing as the building burns and as you swear you hear a series of Southern curses in the wind.

The bite scars over and aches from time to time.

They don't find his body. You try and not let it keep you up at night.

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ophelia-writes-stuff · 2 years

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♥ don't waste my time . oneshot ♥

. pairing : vampire!elvis x reader

. summary / request : being in a relationship with arguably the most attractive man on the planet must seem like a dream-- that is, for anyone but you. you've tried numerous times to bury old memories deep down, but you can never quite stop them from resurfacing.

. word count : 1.6k

. notes / warning : yandere themes, mild sexual content that involves coercion and allusions to sex, mentions of blood, mentions of death, allusions to kidnapping and forced affection, manipulation, domestic abuse, and angst. this is kind of like a drabble, but it's pretty dark, so please read the warnings just in case.

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Pleasure was never something that was perfectly pure.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything."

You shivered at cool metal brushing against your bare skin, slender fingers gliding along your vulnerable body ever so delicately.

"I want you, Elvis. Only you."

You could practically see his smile grow as you felt his fangs penetrate your sensitive neck, teeth barely piercing your skin. He was teasing you.

"Well, I'm right here, baby," he muttered, before allowing his sharp fangs to break through your skin. Deep inside of you, they went, and you let out a groan as Elvis's free arms roamed your body, heating your body impossibly more.

Pain, as you'd come to learn through so many late nights, was very similar to pleasure. It was almost sweet, yet so desperate, and you found yourself enjoying it-- enjoying the pleasure and pain mixed into one hazy blur. You enjoyed the feeling of Elvis sucking your own life force out of you.

You savored the feeling of Elvis's tongue, wet against your neck, greedily taking what he could from you-- savored the feeling of his teeth gently biting your lower lip, just enough to draw some blood. And then, after some time that felt much too soon, Elvis must have decided that it'd been enough, and you let out a displeased groan as he did so.

"Oh, c'mon on now," he coaxed, crawling off of you and choosing to lay beside your figure. A tangle of legs, you smiled as Elvis moved impossibly closer to you, eyes focused intensely on your facial features. "Can't bleed you dry all in one night. I love ya' too much for that."

At the last comment, you smiled widely, and Elvis did the same as he devoured you in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your blood on his tongue as he did so, the taste salty and metallic on your own. You completely and utterly adored it.

It was nights like these that you truly loved, you and Elvis, alone with no other distractions. It was because of nights like that that you forgot about his numerous crimes. And it was because of nights like these that you felt oh, so guilty.

Because, no matter how many times you tried to forget about the deaths, to forget about the bodies, to forget all of it, you couldn't. You couldn't simply let something like that go.

You tensed in front of Elvis, who, after noticing your resistance towards his affection, albeit reluctantly, pulled away.

"Baby?" he questioned softly, a perfectly confused expression present on his features. His hand traveled up to cup your cheek at your lack of response.

"Y/n, darlin', is anything wrong?"

You wished that you didn't reply at all, wished that you had merely shaken your head and let him continue, wished you would have simply indulged more of his intoxicating poison. But you didn't, simply muttered something about needing to go to the bathroom as you slipped out of the sheets and over to said room.

You closed the door and locked it behind you, knowing your heart was now beating much faster than it was before-- knowing that he could hear it, could hear the blood rushing through your veins and your ragged breath and your quiet coughs.

But that didn't matter. Not now. You needed a moment to breathe.

From outside the room, a deep voice beckoned for you. You knew he knew. This always happened. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't simply let it go.

You'd convinced yourself that Elvis loved you, a while back. Convinced yourself that everything he did-- all the bad and the good-- it was all for you. It was to make you happy.

But, staring at your unnaturally light skin tone and fragile figure, you knew that wasn't the case. You knew those had only been ideas that Elvis had implanted in your mind.

Elvis was always so good at that, you'd learned over the years. He could fabricate such sweet, blissful lies that would make you give anything for them to be true.

And, with help from Elvis, they were.

But you knew that this delusion of his-- the delusion that you'd learned to accept eagerly-- was crumbling. A delusion of affection and serenity. A delusion of love.

But infatuation was something very different to love, and so was obsession. This was something that most could understand conceptually, but could not grasp in the real world. Treating someone as if you possessed them-- as if they were some prized artifact that had to be isolated from the outside world-- was not love.

Elvis beckoned for you once more, this time with a more stern tone. An uneasy feeling slithered down your spine-- a venomous snake, waiting for its moment to attack.

You didn't reply-- you should have, but you didn't. You merely stared at the ghost of your reflection in the mirror, all but disappointed. You had to wonder, how could things have gotten this bad? How could circumstances have gotten so bad that you couldn't tell the difference between love and his own infatuation with you?

A knock was heard on the door. You froze. You wouldn't reply. You couldn't reply.

"Y/n, darlin'," Elvis's tone was dark; a warning. And yet, you stood paralyzed by fear, frozen by the simple idea of what he'd done to get you where you are right now.

"I'm gonn' have to open this door if you don't let me in."

You wished that you could simply move your body to unlock the door, but your limbs refused to move.

"I'm gonna count to three," his voice was threatening. You knew he was mad. You knew he would be even madder if you didn't open that goddamn door, but you were frozen in your fear. You were completely utterly terrified of Elvis-- of the man he truly was.

"1..." One. You remembered the first time you'd met Elvis-- so handsome and charming, he could have fooled anyone with just a smile.

"2..." Two. That was the time it happened. 2 in the morning. He didn't expect you to be awake, or even at your home. You'd told him that you'd be out for the next couple of nights, anyway.

"3..." Three. The number of dead bodies sprawled on the floor that very night, bodies that he'd killed. You couldn't speak or move when it happened, could only watch as he drained the life out of your own family-- your own flesh and blood.

It all felt so surreal, now-- it felt as though you were reliving the moment in its entirety.

Your limbs finally moved when the door was busted open, but not in the way you wanted them to. They buckled underneath your own weight, no longer able to support your fragile figure.

You would have been lying to yourself if you didn't say that it was all his fault-- your current condition.

In came a furious-looking Elvis who, after noticing your shaking figure on the bathroom floor, allowed his expression to soften. He knelt down in front of you, wiping tears off of your face that you hadn't even realized you had shed.

"Oh, Y/n..." he muttered, guilt heavy on his chest. He didn't want to see you like this-- he hated it. He only wanted to keep you safe.

"You..." The accusatory words refused to leave your mouth, and as you tried to pull away from Elvis-- to create some distance between the two of you, his grip on your face suddenly grew firm. You let out a soft whimper as he brought your face closer to his own. You'd never wanted things to end up like this.

"Why don't we go back to bed, hon'?" Elvis's grip was brought from your chin to your arm as he softly tugged it.

You didn't know what had overcome you in that moment-- perhaps fear, perhaps rage, or maybe it was simply a sadness so incredibly intense that you couldn't stop it-- but at the suggestion, your eyes widened and you jerked your arm away from Elvis, backing yourself against the bathroom wall as you screamed in protest.

Because you were scared of him. Because you were angry at him. Because you knew that he wasn't the soft man that he portrayed himself to be.

Elvis's normally electric blue eyes became dark and stormy as he approached you-- a quivering mess on the floor, hardly able to breath as tears blurred your vision.

You knew the weight of what you'd done. You knew what was to come next.

You snapped your eyes closed, and in moments, a hand was felt across your cheek, with a stinging pain to follow. Another sob escaped your lips as you hugged your bare figure tightly.

"El-Elvis-- P-Please..." You managed to stammer out the plea after a pathetic amount of time, your sobs prohibiting you from muttering any coherent words.

At the mention of his name, Elvis just stared at you, blankly.

He wanted an apology.

"I-- I'm..." Your breathing was shaky and your voice fluctuated in tone as you spoke. It didn't help that your body was all but trembling. "I'm-- s-sorry."

You didn't look up-- you didn't need to in order to know that Elvis was smiling.

"Good girl," he praised, bending down and gently picking up your frail form. You wanted to smile as he kissed your temple ever so delicately, but found that you lacked the strength to even curve your lips into the slightest of smiles.

"Now, how about you relax and let me make it up to you, hmm?" He whispered into your ear, and you nodded, giving him permission to lay you back on the bed and to forget your troubles once more.

want to join my taglist?

taglist: @iloveaustinelvis, @powerofelvis, @kendralavon7

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babylovepresley · 2 years

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some vampire!elvis for you on this chilly october night <3

mwah, enjoy !

firstly, he has a daylight ring and of course it’s teetering on gaudy, i mean… it’s elvis… but it’s 50’s elvis so it’s much more tasteful; black and gold with a wilting rose engraved in between a big E and P

i imagine you’ve been dating him for a couple weeks, when it’s all new love & touchy feely “i can’t be away from you for more than 10 seconds” type affection

he suggests taking a ride late one night, when the october air gives you chills as the wind blows through your hair. the leaves fall happily around you, but it seems to slow down as the night grows darker…

the roads are dark as you drive with him, sitting closer than usual due to the bench seats you both occupy. your feet are on his lap as he drives, while you lean against the window, talking about any and everything your pretty lil mind can think of (ep with a talkative!reader, i think yes <3 )

he’s softly rubbing his warm big hand up and down ur leg, tapping along the steering wheel as he drives, drumming his heavy ring worn fingers along the wood; a deep thrumming ringing over the static-y radio. a perfectly eerie but oddly thrilling sound.

your bobby socks are rolled slightly over ur ankle as he slowly slips his finger beneath them to squeeze your foot, and you giggle in response pulling your foot back quickly. he grabs it and holds it tight, placing it back in his lap as he smiles

there’s something different about this smile. there’s something different about tonight. he’s wearing a large billowy white shirt and his usual black slacks, but something’s different, and you realize it’s in his smile

you’re blushing as you lean forward, seeing his usual wide grin accompanied by the slender white of pointed canines… those most definitely weren’t that prominent before

“whatchu lookin’ at honey, hm?” he questions, still smiling and taking glances at you in between looking at the road, making you blush because he’s always so attentive

“your teeth look really pretty e..”

“ my tee—? oh… thank you darlin’” his shoulders tensing up and hand suddenly pausing on your knee at the sight of your blush

“now what’re youu lookin’ at mister?” you whisper out, placing your hand on his broad strong chest, your other hand coming up to play with his hair and scratch

“y-your cheeks.. ‘s all pretty and pink.. i love it”

“ ya love it?”

“mmhmm mama i love it”

“ya wanna take me home ep?”

immediately he is turning the car around, and driving the distance back to graceland. maybe tonight he’ll tell you… maybe…

for now, he’ll itch and scratch at the swollen holes on the side of his neck, left there long ago and never forgotten

you’ll smile & blush, thinking about being laid down and kissed by your lover, pink in the cheeks & unaware of the reality of elvis

#vampire!elvis i need you #im thinking like late 50s elvis for this one!#elvis in my eyes <3 #elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis headcanons #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin elvis x reader #elvis x y/n

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cheesy-cryptid · 2 years

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Its still Halloween its still Halloween its still halloween its still hal

#you BLOODSUCKIN VAMPIRE #artists on tumblr #elvis fanart #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #austin butler elvis #austin! elvis x reader #vampire elvis #elvis movie #digital art #digital illustration #tw blood #nik's art #austin butler #vampire au

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rebelliousstories · 2 years

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25 Days of Ficmas

Welcome to the 25 Days of Ficmas Masterlist! I’m really excited to be bringing these fics to you. Please enjoy 25 stories to help get you in the holiday mood.

Traditions (December 1st) Corey Cunningham

Corey has been invited to his partner’s parents home for Christmas, and he gets roped into doing fun family traditions that he didn’t know even happened.

Snow Days (December 2nd) Lestat de Lioncourt

Another Christmas had come and gone, but not without Lestat telling his tales of his favorite, and least favorite, holidays of the past.

Lonely (December 3rd) Elvis Presley

When Elvis tells his family back at Graceland that he couldn’t be home for Christmas, his wife has to quell their children’s tears all on her own.

Blankets (December 4th) Will Graham

Snow in Virginia means cold. Cold means a need for warmth. Warmth means cuddles. Preferably with a human but dogs are a nice addition.

Hot Cocoa (December 5th) Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Tom just received bad news about his throat. He’s holed himself away in his office, but his wife won’t stand for that behavior.

Gifts (December 6th) Poly! Lost Boys

The lost boys haven’t celebrated a proper Christmas in decades. They don’t put up a tree, no carols, and no gifts.

Friends (December 7th) Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Friends-mas. Or the Dagger Team gets together and Mrs. Bradshaw has to convince Bradley to go.

Cabin (December 8th) Elvis Presley

Christmas in the South wasn’t known for its blankets of snow, but it’s still too cold for Mrs. Presley to enjoy the holiday.

Movies (December 9th) Austin Butler

He’s finally home for Christmas, and there isn’t a place in the world he’d rather be.

Fireplace (December 10th) Miles Miller

California and Nevada. How does one celebrate the holidays in the desert?

Cookies (December 11th) Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Hangman takes his lady home for the holidays and she gets to experience a Seresin Christmas, with all the nieces and nephews.

Gingerbread House (December 12th) Paul

It’s just making a gingerbread house. How hard can it be with a ADHD, weed smoking, man-child of a vampire? Oh no.

Candy (December 13th) Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

As the resident mom and dad of the Dagger Team, the Mitchell’s host the team for a festive night.

Music (December 14th) Hannibal Lecter

A connoisseur of all things high class in a relationship with someone more rustic and simplistic. It’s a clash of Christmas styles.

Charity (December 15th) Louis Pointe du Lac

As Christmas rolls around in New Orleans, Louis reflects on those less fortunate that him.

Cider (December 16th) Dwayne

Seasonal tents at the boardwalk are her favorite this time of year. Dwayne is along for the ride.

December (December 17th) Will Graham

Hell hath no fury like a woman wanting to have some time off with her lover.

Celebrate (December 18th) Marko

If anyone can convince the boys to put in a little effort for the holiday, surely it’s Marko?

Family (December 19th) Poly! Interview with the Vampire

Claudia has requested that everyone get along for one night. Hopefully, they can make her Christmas wish come true.

Ice Skating (December 20th) Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Having your own personal licensed pilot around Christmas time means you end up in interesting places.

Christmas Dinner (December 21st) Rhett Abbott

The Abbott family might not be close, but they try to at least have one nice dinner a year.

Sweaters (December 22nd) Marko

Marko loves perusing through the local stores for new patches to sew together. And even now, he loves finding things to make into a custom sweater.

Christmas Tree (December 23rd) David

He hated to admit it; the tree made the late night snuggle session more magical.

Christmas Eve (December 24th) Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Christmas Eve is spent inside, curled up with a blanket, and some hot cocoa, in beautiful California.

Christmas Day (December 25th) Corey Cunningham

This was the Christmas he dreamed about as a kid.

#rebelliousstories #writing #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #austin butler imagine #elvis imagine #will graham imagine #hannibal lecter imagine #poly lost boys x reader #lost boys imagine #interview with the vampire imagine #lestat de lioncourt imagine #louis x reader #maverick imagine #rooster bradshaw imagine #hangman imagine #rhett abbott imagine #miles miller x reader

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stephstars08 · 2 years

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Okay um why is it everytime I see these pictures it gives me Vampire vibes!?!?!?

(Via austinnbutler_ on Instagram)

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis austin butler #elvis film #elvis biopic #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis movie #baz luhrmann elvis #vampire #vampire vibes #omfg yes #vanity fair magazine

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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TEMPTED

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler (Vampire!Austin)

Requested: nope

Prompt: He's horrifying, terrifying, evil. A blood-sucking monster. But a monster who happens to be extremely alluring and drop-dead gorgeous. A monster whose very existence has TEMPTED you into doing the unthinkable.

TW: Blood, mentions of death

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 6787

A/N: Someone tell me why the FUCK this man in the middle pic looks EXACTLY like Austin???? It's not him - idk who it is I found it on Pinterest - but I'm kinda !!!!

Part one of the Supernatural Series. See all three parts by checking out my #SupernaturalSeries tag.

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You lift your neck up as you observe your face in the mirror. Without even looking, your fingers reach down and latch onto the diamond necklace that was gifted to you. You raise it onto your neck and hold it up to the skin, imagining what it will look like when it’s fastened securely around your throat. The choker is intricately designed and expertly engineered with a beautiful deep red ruby set in the center of two silver bat wings.

You jump in your seat as you hear scratching by your window. You rush over to it, unfastening the curtains and pulling them apart. You yelp in shock as a little black object floats around in circles, bouncing against the window pane. Releasing a relieved breath, you unlatch the lock and open the window. It's a bat with something rather large in its mouth. It drops the object onto the window sill before taking off into the orange autumn sky. You chuckle and reach down to pick up the letter and package that the bat delivered. You bite your lip in excitement as you immediately recognize the elegant black cursive script on the envelope.

My Life, it reads.

You relatch the window and flop on your bed to open and read the letter. The familiar deep red seal closes the back with the symbol of a wilted rose. His family stamp After ripping the envelope open and pulling out a piece of parchment, your eyes read down the page.

My dearest Y/N,

I require your presence this evening at the mansion. I expect you to arrive promptly around nine in the evening, dressed in the garment which I have enclosed in this package. You know how I like your makeup and hair.

And lest you forget the jewels I gifted you last week. They should match wonderfully with the dress I have procured for our rendezvous this evening.

You know where I am. As always, I shall be awaiting your arrival and shall not breathe easily until we are together again.

Your love in eternity,

Aus x

You giggle to yourself at the contents of the letter. Austin has no issue speaking like someone who lives in the twenty-first century, but he likes to pretend that he’s still stuck in the 1800s whenever he writes you letters. You carefully refold the letter and then place it back into the envelope to save it along with all the others you’d received.

Taking the soft package, you untie the red ribbon and use the strings to open the leather pouch. You pull out a long burgundy velvet dress and fluff it up so that you can take a look at it. You hold it in front of yourself by the floor-length mirror and smile as you slide your fingers along the soft fabric.

Glancing behind you at the clock, you see that it’s already approaching seven o’clock, which means you have less than two hours to get ready and drive over to the mansion if you’re going to arrive on time. You immediately start getting ready, preparing your makeup and hair the way you know he likes it: a bold red lip and your hair off your neck and shoulders. You accessorize using the diamond necklace, a few matching bracelets, and a pair of delicate diamond earrings - all items which Austin had gifted you over the years you’ve had this little arrangement.

You pull the dress on as carefully as possible and smile to yourself as you evaluate your figure in the mirror. As usual, the dress is absolutely beautiful. It hugs your frame in all the right places and the color looks magnificent with your skin tone. It shimmers in the light when you move and it has a classy leg slit that makes you look tall and lean. Just as you pin your hair into place, your phone rings from its place beside the bed. Rushing over, you see your best friend’s name on the caller ID and answer.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Hi, I was just calling to see if you wanted to do something tonight?” they say.

“Oh, I’d love to but I’m sorry I can’t. I’m actually on my way out to see Austin tonight,” you respond as you carefully and expertly position pins to secure your hairstyle.

“Again? Didn’t you just see him last week?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m going again tonight.”

“I still don’t fully understand what your relationship is with this man. Isn’t he basically just your sugar daddy?”

You pause and heave a sigh. It’s actually quite difficult to explain your relationship with Austin. You can’t tell anyone the truth, anyway, because it would put him at risk. If they believed you, that is. Most people would probably just judge you for lying and making up some ridiculous story to cover for the fact that you basically have a sugar daddy.

Austin is…a being that many people don’t believe exists. And if they did believe in his existence, they would be terrified and utterly frightened of him. He would probably be killed on the spot if they could really see him. Even though Twilight revolutionized vampire appreciation, they're still considered to be fantastical beings by most sane people.

“Not…exactly. I just go over every couple of weeks to keep him company. He cooks dinner and we just talk or watch movies and stuff. He doesn’t get out much so it’s all just to keep him connected to the world.”

“It literally sounds like you’re visiting a nursing home, Y/N. But let’s not forget about the part where he literally pays you with jewelry every single day for having sex with him.”

“Excuse me, we have never had sex, actually! And it is not every day! He sends me something one time a week and he isn’t paying me. He’s just very rich and has no use for the money, so I think it makes him feel good to send me things. He’s just showing his gratitude. I think it really means a lot to him that I take the time to visit him.”

“Is this man married? Why doesn’t he leave the house? How old even is he?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at your friend’s questions. How old is he…what a loaded question that you couldn't even answer seriously if you wanted to.

“He’s old enough to be more mature than any man either of us has ever dated. No, of course, he’s not married. And he doesn’t leave the house because he…can’t really go out. He has a…condition that prevents him from going outside.”

“Mhm,” they sound unconvinced and sigh before continuing. “Okay, well, whatever. It’s not my life. But just let me know when you’re back for the night, okay? I hate the thought of you hanging out at that creepy ass mansion up on the hill with a mysterious agoraphobic sugar daddy who pays you in the ugliest jewelry I’ve ever seen.”

“It is not ugly! I like it!”

“Okay sorry, sorry! Seriously, though, let me know when you get there safely and when you get home.”

“I’ll do my best. But you have nothing to worry about. We trust each other and I know he’s a good man. Thanks for checking on me and we can meet up tomorrow. Margaritas?”

Your friend laughs on the other line.

“Sounds like a plan. Okay, I gotta go cause Jasper’s throwing a fit,” she says, referring to her newborn baby. “But I’ll text you about tomorrow. Love ya!”

“Love you,” you repeat before hanging up.

You stick one last pin into your hair and double-check your appearance. You smile. Wearing the things Austin sends you always makes you feel absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking. You aren’t totally sure why, but you always feel your sexiest when you’re wearing something you know he likes.

You would never tell any of your friends but over the last four years, you’ve fallen terribly in love with Austin. Not that it would ever work considering…but still, you can’t stop the emotions from pumping through your heart every time you lay eyes on him. With a deep breath, you shrug on your coat and grab your keys, slamming the door to your apartment behind you. Now that the sun has set, the air is chilly as it blows through the deep blue night. You climb into your car and flip the lights on, preparing for the long drive that you’ve memorized.

It’s not a particularly pleasant drive as it requires you to go up and down dark hills and around tight turns and dangerous bends without any railings or road precautions. Not to mention that you have to use your high beams virtually the entire time since there’s almost no light to be seen the entire way. Perhaps the most annoying and scary portion of the drive involves a veer off into the pitch-black woods and up a path that is existent only to the people who already know it's there. Thanks to Austin on that one.

Fortunately, you don’t run into any issues this time and the sky remains mostly clear for your journey. As usual, you don’t pass a single other car on the haunting road up to the ancient mansion. It’s not surprising considering the fact that nothing lies at the end of the road other than the mansion itself. But you still breathe a sigh of relief as you pull up the long cobblestone drive toward the makeshift garage in the back. You park and flip down the mirror to check your makeup once again.

Satisfied with your appearance, you text your friend to let them know you made it safely and then step out to make your way up to the front door. You pry the vase on the front porch up and grab the heavy metal skeleton key from underneath it. Before opening the door, you pause to admire the stained glass roses which are fashioned on the door. Although the entire mansion is beautiful, these stained glass windows are your personal favorite. You’ve never seen anything like them anywhere else in the world. You insert the key and turn it without issue, the grating of metal against metal signaling that the key is working. You push the door open and replace the key before shutting it quietly.

“Austin! I’m here,” you shout and listen back as the echo surrounds you.

As normal, you admire the mansion’s entryway while you wait for Austin. You know more about the house than anyone other than Austin. That was the main topic of conversation the very first time you met him here at the house. He’d told you about it's history.

“Le Manoir D'argent. The Silver Mansion, as it was called, was constructed in 1845 for a young duke and his wife. They had moved to America for better work opportunities. Tragically, she was murdered in the house when thieves broke in to steal some of the couple’s famous artwork. After she died, the duke returned to France, and the mansion was sold to a local banker and passed down from there. It fell into my uncle’s hands and I inherited it from him.”

The large entryway has a winding staircase with a balcony that overlooks the space and disappears into two hallways upstairs. On either side of the ground floor, there are two hallways that lead to different sections of the house. The floor is made of gorgeous Italian marble, creating a black and white checkerboard print. The walls throughout the house are covered in deep red, green, and blue wallpaper with mahogany wooden boarding lining the bottoms and tops. With its vaulted ceilings, the entryway itself feels three times as large as it actually is. Although the lighting is dim in most areas, the mansion doesn’t feel haunted or eerie at all. Actually, it feels rather cozy and warm. Austin keeps it exceptionally clean.

Your favorite detail in this room is the large portrait of the mansion’s master which hangs right beside the door. You step toward it and smile as you admire it. It’s done in the style of a renaissance portrait, with Austin wearing a fashionable black tuxedo and a red shirt underneath. Your eyes always gravitate toward his in the painting, glinting golden underneath his blonde, sandy curled locks. As you take a step closer, you tilt your head and notice something you’ve never seen before. In the painting, he’s holding a necklace or a pocketwatch…something silver in his hands. You are about to examine it further but Austin’s voice interrupts you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you,” he says excitedly.

You turn and smile happily at him as he approaches you and takes your hands in his. His fingers are always deathly cold but it doesn’t bother you one bit. He’s dressed very handsomely and your eyes immediately drop down to the skin on his chest that’s peeking through his partially-unbuttoned dress shirt. It’s blue, your favorite color on him, and pairs well with the black dress pants he's wearing. The sleeves to the top are already rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms.

He pulls you toward him, winding his arms around your body and pulling you against him. You rest your arms on his back and inhale his scent. Despite having been dead for almost two hundred years, he doesn’t smell it. Instead, he smells of musk and something warm and sweet like vanilla or cinnamon. It’s intoxicating and you find your eyelashes fluttering closed.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against the skin of his cheek and you can feel him release a content sigh. He releases you and holds you at arm's length so he can get a good look at you.

“Gorgeous, as always. How do you like the dress, darling?” he asks, offering you his elbow. You take it with a smile and allow him to lead you into the dining room.

“It’s absolutely beautiful, Austin. Thank you so much for gifting it to me. You know that you don’t have to send something every time we spend time together, right? Just being with you is gift enough for me.”

He leads you to your usual chair and pulls it out for you. As gentlemanly as always. You slide into the seat as gracefully as you can while he responds.

“It’s of no consequence to me,” he waves his hand dismissively. “You know that I have centuries of savings stored up, waiting to be spent on something. Why not spend it on you, the person who makes me happiest on this earth?”

He takes his seat at the head of the table, just to your right. You shrug and nod, not having any reason to argue with that. The plate that sits in front of you is steaming. You lift the silver lid and take a deep sniff. A smile spreads across your face.

“Oh, Austin, my favorite. It smells delicious,” you say and grab onto your utensil.

You’re actually quite hungry and the food smells so, so good. You spoon some into your mouth and close your eyes in pleasure at the wonderful familiar taste. Despite not eating very much human food, Austin is a wonderful cook and always has his kitchen stocked with your favorite snacks for when you visit.

“It’s wonderful,” you assure him and he smiles warmly, relaxing in his chair.

He brings his hand up to his lips, running a finger over his bottom lip as he watches you eat. Your eyes drop momentarily down to his place to see nothing there, as usual. The first time you’d visited, he’d eaten the same meal as you but each time after he’d refrained. He explained that vampires are capable of eating human food, it just doesn’t agree with their digestive system or do much anything to keep them healthy and alive.

Blood, of course, is the main staple of their diet and, as most people know nowadays, vampires prefer human blood over any other kind of blood. Although Austin sustains himself on animal blood, every vampire must drink human blood every so often to remain alive. Austin generally takes to the streets in small rural towns around the area for a full meal every now and then. He explained that he usually picks criminals or elderly people and does his best to stay away from young and healthy individuals. And he never, ever feeds on children.

The dining room is dimly lit with an exquisitely ornate crystalline chandelier that casts light in rainbow colors across the room. Here in more lighting, you start to notice how drawn and stretched Austin looks. Your eyes travel to his golden blonde hair, pulled back in a fashionable ponytail with a few strands swinging freely to frame his face. They follow down to his sparkling golden eyes, which look a bit greyer than normal, as does his normally pale white skin. He appears ashen, his cheeks caved into his skin more than you remember. But his jaw still cuts dramatically across his face, and his pink lips are as plump and elegant as ever. He’s still as handsome as the day you first met him. You smile as you scoop another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“Austin…in the portrait in the entryway, what are you holding? That little silver necklace? What is it?”

Austin’s eyes flick up to you and he clenches his jaw. You lean back, away from him, suddenly worried that you’ve said something wrong. Your eyes flick down to his fist which is clenched on the tabletop. His eyes follow your gaze and he releases his fingers with a sigh.

“It…belonged to my sister.”

You shake your head and lean back in. This is news to you.

“You had a sister?”

“Yes. Her name was Ashleigh,” he replies, nodding slowly. “She died when I was young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What was she like?”

You watch for a moment in silence as his eyes flick back and forth on the black lace tablecloth in front of you. When he lifts his gaze to yours, he looks even more drawn and you can see the emotion clear on his face.

“Have I ever told you how I became a vampire?”

You pause for a moment to think and then shake your head.

“No, actually. I don’t think you have.”

He nods, almost solemnly and then intertwines his fingers on top of the table.

“My sister, Ashleigh, and I grew up in Normandy, on the coast of France. We lived in a wealthy family, although she always had dreams of coming to America. She met a man whom my mother and I did not approve of. But my father, with the final say, blessed their union and they were married. I remember always thinking that he was a very strange man, always pale and never very pleasant. But she loved him with her entire being and her whole heart. Anyway, she moved to America with him and they purchased a house, a mansion. He was a duke, extremely wealthy, and they were doing very well here. I came to visit, in the hopes that I would secure a job in the states. I have told you how magnificent the art collection here was, haven’t I?”

You nod and he continues.

“Do you remember the story of the art thieves that I told you? That they descended upon the house at night and killed the duchess in cold blood?”

“Yes, Duchess Butuiller. What does she have to…oh god”

“Duchess Butuiller, Ashleigh Butuiller, was my sister. I grew up with the name Agustin and only adopted the name Austin in the twentieth century. But those thieves…they weren’t thieves at all. They were hunters of my kind.”

“Was your sister…?”

“No, thank god. She was spared this fate that I wasn't. I was up late, reading in the library when they came into the house. I caught them. I tried to stop them but there were too many. I was stabbed in the chest and I…I have no memory of what passed until I woke up the next day as the creature I am today. The duke was who they were searching for. The bastard allowed my sister to be killed but to save my life, he turned me. Why he saved me I'll never understand. But it was he who turned me into this monster, this bloodsucker.”

A few moments of silence pass before you gather the courage to ask another question.

“Where is the duke now?”

“I have no idea and I’d like to keep it that way. After he explained what he’d done to me, he released the house to my ownership and left. I don’t know where he went or why, but if he were ever to come back here, I would end his life. No matter what it took.”

Silence settles again and you gulp as you reach up to place your hand on top of his. He averts your eyes but you can see the shimmering glint of a tear as he breathes heavily through his emotions.

“Should we move into the living room, now? It’s more comfortable in there," you suggest to ease the tension.

Austin nods and offers a small smile before rising to his feet. You notice him sway for a quick moment but he regains his balance quickly and holds out his hand for you to take. You place your fingers into his and stand. As soon as you take a step toward the living room, Austin wavers, slamming his hand onto the table for support.

“Austin!” you shout, moving to slide your arms underneath him and help support him.

He hisses and shakes his head, heaving a frustrated breath.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters under his breath, releasing your arms from his torso.

He moves to take another step but falters again, reaching for his head. You catch him and slowly but carefully drag him into the next room. You help him onto the loveseat and sit beside him, your fingers resting on top of his hand.

“How long has it been since you’ve…eaten?”

“I’m fine.”

“Austin,” you say disappointed. “How long has it been since you last fed?”

“A few days, maybe. I don’t know, Y/N.”

You sigh and angle your head down to better observe him. He looks awful, thin and blanched, and, most of all, tired.

“Well, you look terrible. You need to eat. Do you have any blood in the fridge?”

“No.”

“What about upstairs somewhere?”

“No.”

“Okay, well maybe I could run down to the pet store and-”

“Stop!” he suddenly shouts, whirling to glare at you.

You clamp your lips together and look at him, shocked into suppression. His angry expression immediately melts and his shoulders round in defeat.

“I’m fine, I already told you. Besides, I don’t need animal blood. I need…” his eyes flick toward you, dragging up and down your frame.

You gulp under his gaze. You and he have engaged in a variety of activities but sex and feedings are two areas you both avoid. Sure, you've allowed him to trail his teeth up and down your skin and even give you a little taste of what it would feel like to be bitten. You’ve even passingly offered for him to feed on you before, but he’s always denied your proposal. Every single time, without fail. He refuses to bring his teeth anywhere near you when he’s hungry for human blood. It's just too dangerous.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lowering the strap of your dress onto your shoulder and brushing the few strands of hair on your neck out of your way, to expose your skin to him completely.

“Feed on me,” you say as confidently as you can, although your heart is pounding painfully in your chest.

Austin’s head snaps up and he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. He says nothing although his eyes search your figure.

“Feed on me,” you repeat. “You need to eat and I know you can feed without turning me. So…I’m offering.”

Austin’s expression suddenly changes and he laughs. His eyes squeeze shut and he leans back against the loveseat, clutching his stomach.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” you ask, suddenly offended. You can’t place why but the thought of him not wanting your blood makes you angry. “Am I not good enough for you?”

The amusement falls from Austin’s face once again and he stares dryly at you.

“Y/N, we’re not doing this,” he says firmly, his lips pressed into a straight line. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Austin, stop being so stubborn! You practically passed out on the way in here. You need to eat,” you insist, gesturing toward your shoulder.

“No. Stop it now.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m offering-”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Are you afraid of turning me or-”

“Stop.”

If you weren’t so wrapped up in your anger, you would have noticed the way Austin’s long fingernails begin to dig into the pillow beside him. But you’re so inspired by your anger and frustration and concerned with his health that you continue to insist that he feed on you.

“If you would just trust me, then-”

Your breath catches in your throat as Austin’s fingers wrap harshly around your wrists. Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s slammed you back into the wall of the living room. His hands are holding your wrists hostage against the wall as he towers over you. You wince at the pain of his fingers around your arms. When you stare up into his eyes, your heart begins to beat faster. Your breath grows shaky with fear. His eyes are red. Not a little red, or in the process of changing red. They are red, a deep, sinister color almost as dark as your dress. He stares down at you with his almost black eyes, nostrils flared and fangs bared. You freeze under his touch, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

He’s never acted this way with you. You've never understood how people could think vampires are evil since Austin has never been anything but kind to you. But now, as you stare up into his haunting face, you understand it all. It’s as if the very bones under his skin have shifted to create this horror of a being that bares down on you now. He resembles nothing of his normal self and your heart is racing with terror. For the first time since you met him, you wonder if he’s going to hurt you.

“Is this what you want, Y/N?” he asks. “You want this version of me? The bloodsucking monster? The killer? Is this the man you want to see?”

You shiver under his grasp. He picks up your wrists and slams them against the wall. You wince and shake your head.

“No. I didn’t think so. This is not what you want. Leave now. And don’t ever come back.”

He releases your hands and returns to the couch, gently keeling over onto the cushions. You take a moment to collect yourself, breathing in and out slowly, and consider your options. Your first instinct is to return to him, to comfort him and to find some way to lift his pain. But what are you doing here in the first place? This is all just a reminder of what he’s capable of. That he could kill you at any moment. The fact that he hasn’t hurt you to this point is honestly astounding, even if it’d been by accident.

Resolved to get the hell out of here, you’re about to turn and grab your purse, but a loud burst of thunder strikes, and the old house rumbles. You turn and approach the window, lifting the dark red curtain to peer outside. You can barely see anything with the rain falling in sheaths everywhere you look. It would be extremely dangerous and probably impossible to make it home tonight.

“You can sleep upstairs in the guest room. I’ll fix it up for you,” Austin says.

You turn, about to tell him you’ll just take the couch, but he’s already gone. Damn vampire speed. You fish your phone out from your purse and text your friend quickly.

it’s storming really bad up here and too dangerous to drive home. but i'm safe

You hesitate, looking up from your phone and glancing at the wall against which Austin had harshly pushed you. Shaking your head, you continue typing.

i’m safe with austin. text you in the morning ❤️

With a deep breath, you grab your purse and head upstairs. Each step creaks with your heels and, to be honest, you only realize once you hit the top of the steps that you have no idea where you’re going. You pause and listen for movement. Luckily, you can hear Austin rummaging about in a room and you follow the noise. You knock on the doorframe and step into the room. At one point, it had clearly been a woman's room based on the decoration; it probably belonged to Austin's sister long ago. Austin is bent over the bed, smoothing out a blanket.

"Hi," you say quietly and Austin just nods.

"The bathroom is right there. The sheets and towels are brand new and clean. I'm just next door if you need anything."

You nod. A few moments of awkward silence pass until Austin clears his throat and starts toward the door. You move out of the way, passing him as you step further into the room. After you lay your purse down on the bed, you turn.

"Austin, can you, uh…unzip me, please?” you ask sheepishly, your shoulders turning in on yourself.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Austin approaches you. Your back unintentionally arches when his freezing fingers brush against your skin. You gasp and close your eyes. As his fingertips dance across the zipper, one of the straps slips from your shoulder. You glance over at it, suddenly terrified when Austin stops unzipping the dress. You both wait in silence. You can feel his eyes trained on your shoulder and, with how fast your heart is thudding against your chest, you’re sure he can sense the veins in your neck as they pulse rhythmically.

You just barely turn your head to look over your shoulder at Austin. He’s staring down at you, his eyes red again, but a brighter, less threatening red this time. His lips are parted and his chest is heaving. Your eyes slip down to his lips and the next thing you know, he’s leaning toward you, his hot breath tickling your face. Your eyes flutter closed as you wait for the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck!”

You fall forward onto the bed and quickly glance over your shoulder to see Austin gripping the door frame. His long nails are tearing parts of the white wooden trim away from the wall. You turn around, holding the top of your dress securely onto your chest as you stare at him.

“Why are you doing this to me, Y/N? Why? I can’t fucking control it around you. I can’t see you anymore. You can never come back after tonight. Do you understand?”

You shake your head, the frustration coming back.

“No, I don’t fucking understand. You’re the one who sends me these dresses, these jewels, all this shit. It’s not my fault you can’t control yourself, but did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t care? That I don’t want you to control yourself? That I’m offering for you to feed not because I’m turned on by the thought of it but because I love you and I don’t want you to fucking die?”

It all comes spilling out before you can stop it. But once it's out there, you don't know what to do other than own up to it. You clamp your mouth shut and fall down on the bed, dropping your head and closing your eyes as a few rogue tears slip out. Suddenly, you feel Austin's fingers underneath your chin. He lifts your face up to his. His hands slide onto your cheeks and he leans his forehead against you.

"Don't love me," he whispers. "You shouldn't love me. I'm a freak, a monster. I'm disgusting and hideous in every way. I survive on the death of others and I enjoy it. Look at me, Y/N, I'm not worthy of you. Look at these nails. They're like animal claws and they're dangerous. The thought of them ripping or tearing your beautiful skin...I hate myself for even being capable of it."

"Austin, Austin, Austin," you whisper, placing your hands on his face. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, an expression of pain crossing his face. "I trust you with my whole heart. You could never hurt me, I know it. You're not a monster. You didn't choose this life; someone else chose it for you and you're living it the most honorable way you can. That's why I love you, with all of my being. That's why I want you to feed on me, because I can't lose you, Austin. I just can't."

"What if I can't stop myself?"

You drop your hand onto his chest and tap his heart.

"If you truly love me, you will."

With that, you lean your head to the side, brushing your hair away and closing your eyes to prepare for him. His cold fingers tickle your skin as they touch your shoulder. His hand drops down to your arm and he grasps your bicep, pulling your body closer to his. He does it slowly so that you have time to place your hands on his thighs and support yourself.

Your heart is pounding in your chest with the anticipation of feeling his teeth sink into your skin. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you can feel Austin’s breath on your shoulder. His soft lips press onto the skin. You smile to yourself as his lips drag up your body, rhythmically pressing chaste kisses up your throat and onto your face. Your lips pop open as his mouth slips onto yours. He kisses you hungrily. His lips smooth as they move between yours.

You grip his thighs, a feeling of sudden desperation growing in your heart and in your gut. You lean further into his kiss, moaning quietly against his lips. His hand circles around to your back and he gently drags his long fingernails up your spine. They just barely tickle the skin and your back arches in response. You gasp into his lips as goosebumps rise on your arms.

He pulls away from you but you jerk forward into the space between you, desiring his lips more than you’ve ever wanted something in your life before.

“You like that, don’t you love?” he whispers.

You bite your lip and hum in agreement. He smirks and then presses his lips against yours again, one of his hands grasping onto your head to hold you against him. You smile into the kiss and arch your back as his fingernails dig into the skin. The sharp tips ache but only for a moment before he pulls his hand away from you and clutches onto your jawbone.

He stares down at you and your breath catches in your throat. You resist the urge to moan into the air between you and clutch harder onto his thighs instead. He tilts your head to the side and runs a fingernail down your throat. Your eyes flutter closed and you wait for him.

He presses a wet kiss to your neck. You gasp as the tips of his fangs scratch against your skin. And then they sink in. You immediately sway back with the force, moaning loudly at the mixture of pleasure and pain. You pant as the area on your neck grows warm and starts to ache. You can feel his teeth moving around in your skin, and, like massaging a tender muscle, you feel the satisfying sensation of relief. You moan again as you feel your head starting to ache. Your vision is beginning to blacken when Austin pulls away. You gasp, your eyes flying open.

Your head is still tilted back as you stare down at him. His eyes are deep, dark red like the burgundy color of your dress. In the dim lighting, they almost look black. Your blood drips down the corner of his mouth in a long dark line and is smudged red along his lips. His tongue darts out and swipes around his mouth to gather the extra blood before he circles it around his fangs to clean them. You sigh deeply and gulp.

“Why did you stop?” you ask.

“Your heartbeat, love. I can hear it pulsing in your chest,” he responds, his icy fingers pressing against the warm skin on your chest. "It was too much."

“Maybe I just liked it,” you say, your eyes dropping down to his lips.

He smirks, his hands falling to your hips and yanking you onto his lap. You straddle him and slide your hands onto his shoulders, one of them tangling into his long blonde hair. You lean in for a desperately needed kiss but he restrains you and wiggles his fingers. You watch as he takes his long sharp nails to the front of your dress. He gazes lustily into your eyes as he drags his fingernail down the fabric. It begins to rip and you press against his chest.

“Austin, stop, this is brand new!” you say. He smirks and leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’ll buy you another,” he mutters against you.

And with that, his fingernail rips easily and hastily through the entire front of your dress. It falls gracefully from your chest, revealing your bare skin to him. His eyes trail down your figure and he heaves a deep breath. You giggle happily and lean forward, about to press your lips onto his but he stops you with a gentle hand to your heart. He curls his finger and trails it up toward your cheek and onto your cheekbone. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“I don’t want to fuck you tonight,” he says. “I just want to hold you.”

You smile and press a gentle kiss on his forehead. You nod and he helps you down. After stepping away to allow Austin to get up, you slide the rest of the dress off, along with your shoes. By the time you turn back around, Austin has returned with a pair of silk pajamas.

“I was saving this for another time but you pretty obviously need it now,” Austin says with a chuckle. You share the expression and then shrug the pajamas over your head.

You climb into bed as Austin turns the lights off and slides in behind you. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you close. You nestle back into him. Although he’s frigid, he feels good against your hot skin. The rain is falling hard, pattering against the window as soft rumbles of thunder sound in the distance.

“Can I show you something?” he asks.

You shift in his arms to see his face and nod excitedly.

“Of course.”

He reaches underneath his shirt and pulls out a silver necklace. Somehow you’ve never noticed it before. He stretches it out to show it to you. The moonlight that shines through the window allows you to get a good look at it. It’s a small oval-shaped silver charm with the family’s rose crest engraved in the metal.

“This is what you saw in the portrait.”

“Ashleigh’s necklace?” you ask and he nods.

“The very same. When she owned it, it contained a picture of the duke, her beloved. But when the duke gave it to me, I didn’t know what to do with it. It remained empty for a long, long time. But now,” he carefully clicks it open and tilts it to show you. You giggle contently. “It contains a picture of my beloved.”

You reach toward the necklace and swipe a thumb over your face nestled in the little silver oval. When you glance over at him, he’s already staring at you with a handsome smile. You reach up to cup his face and he leans into your touch. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you nestle into his chest before mumbling goodnight.

“Sleep well, my heart.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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#austin butler #milasthings #milasaustincontent #milasfics #milasaustinfics #spoopy szn 2022 #SupernaturalSeries #vampire aus #vampire!austin

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dearaustinbutler · 2 years

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Austin Butler for Vanity Fair’s The Hollywood Issue (February 2013) 💥💥💥

📸 by Steven Klein

#austin butler #I was wondering when this would be released #love the second photo #but the cover has so much photoshop #someone said it was giving the vampire diaries haha #vanity fair #selena gomez #jonathan majors #ana de armas #florence pugh #february 15 #the Hollywood issue #elvis movie

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headfullofpresley · 2 years

Text

You and me, kid (Chapter 10)

Us girls have to stick together.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader (can be Austin!Elvis as well)

Word count: 5,9K

Warning(s): a big ass plot twist (don’t hate me xoxo), ANGST, strong language, introducing my baby Bekah <3, violence/gore, kind of cheating??, Olivia being a sneaky little bitch.

Author’s note: im giggling so hard bc i know y’all are gonna hate me for this WOOPSSS. i just couldn’t help myself :):):). enjoy my luvs <3

Click HERE for chapter 9!

masterlist

‘‘The best way to not get your heart broken is to pretend you don’t have one.’’

For the entire day, your emotions had been all over the place but you knew that you couldn’t openly lash out your anger on anyone that you came across during the day, no matter how much you wanted to. The city of Angels was swarmed with people as soon as the sun had risen and while you knew your way around, you had no idea where to go. You’d go in and out of stores and coffee shops, hoping to find a barista or store clerk that would be alone and oblivious to your presence, but people were everywhere and it felt like all of their eyes were on you. Scenario’s of Olivia and Elvis kept on repeating over and over again in your head, your anger and jealousy threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Before they could, you found yourself wandering through the alleys of the city, bursting through the doors of a small bar that seemed very old and definitely violating most health codes. The place was only lit up by a few decorative lamps hanging on the walls and placed in the middle of the tables, smoke of cigars and cigarettes trickling up in the air by the doing of mostly older men that were sitting at the tables, playing cards or chatting to each other in hushed voices. The man behind the bar noticed you immediately, his hand reaching for the gun that was duct taped underneath the bar. He knew exactly what you were, but you were completely unaware about the self proclaimed vampire hunter behind the bar.

‘‘Coffee, please,’’ you told the man as you sat down at the bar, running your hands down your face. Your mind was too frazzled and fogged with emotions to be thinking about the fact that your bartender was suspicious of you. He slowly removed his hand from the gun, turning around to the coffee machine, keeping his ears perked in case you’d try something while he would have his back turned to you.

You looked over your shoulder, scanning the crowd─as you spotted the silhouette of a bigger man sitting at one of the tables in back of the dark bar, fedora hat perched on top of his round head, you felt as if your heart stopped beating. A younger looking man was leaning over to him, whispering something in his ear but you couldn’t make out the words that were exchanged, the sound of the other people in the bar and the coffee machine buzzing in the background blocking your eavesdrop skills. You quickly turned back to look at the bartender who placed a cup of coffee in front of you and you thanked him with a quick nervous smile. It couldn’t be the person who you thought it was, it just could not. The fat motherfucker was dead, burned to ashes. You watched Elvis rip out his heart, for God’s sake.

You slowly felt panic settling in your chest as your mind was racing, contemplating your next move. If this was really him, there was no way you would be able to take him on, not on your own. He had a jump start of a few thousand years, literally, and you had not even been a vampire for half a year. You were a newbie, a baby. Compared to humans, you were strong, but compared to an Original? Definitely not.

‘‘Are you okay, lady? You look a little pale,’’ the bartender commented, feigning worry as he looked at you with soft eyes, his hand lingering on the gun again. You looked at him and widened your eyes a little, nodding your head frantically as you rushed a hand through your hair, making sure to keep your mouth shut. You were pretty sure that if the man in the back of the bar really was your lover’s former manager that he had already spotted you, but you were not planning to draw more attention to yourself. You needed to get the hell out of here, but rushing out of this place in a panic would certainly make you look more suspicious. You quickly lifted the cup of coffee off of the bar and brought it to your lips, taking a sip of the dark liquid. You expected it to burn your tongue as you were always too impatient to wait until it cooled off, but instead it felt like your entire tongue and throat were melting. You gasped for air as you weren’t able to stop yourself from coughing, clawing your hands at your throat as you widened your eyes at the man in front of you. He ripped the gun off of the wood of the bar, duct tape and all, pointing it at you─before you were able to recover from vervain induced coffee, he shot four wooden bullets in your chest. Due to him not being a very good gun man, he missed your heart, but it still made you fall off the barstool you were on, letting out a painful cry.

Heavy footsteps were coming closer and you were clawing at the bullets, trying to get them out of your flesh but you could feel the splinters splitting, creeping their way throughout your flesh, nearing your heart more and more. You widened your eyes as the man with the fedora hat came into view and hovered above you, his heavy wooden cane pressing against your throat. Your hands flew around it, trying to prevent him from pushing it down further to pierce through your skin. When he spoke, you were absolutely sure it was him. And even more sure that you were going to die, right here in this sketchy, stale smelling bar.

‘‘Miss L/N,’’ he hummed, tongue laced with venom as he tilted his head and even though it was hard to make out, you knew he was wearing a shit eating grin. ‘‘Long time no see,’’

More men started surrounding you and you heard the door you had came through mere minutes ago being locked, trapping you inside the bar with a bunch of men that you weren’t sure were human, vampires or something else entirely. You groaned in pain as he pushed his cane deeper against you, your skin slowly but surely starting to rip apart, no matter how hard you were trying to hold back the damn thing with your hands.

‘‘H-How…’’ You stuttered through the pain, breathing heavily through your teeth as you looked at him when he bend down a little. His dark eyes bored into yours as a vicious grin lingered on his face, strong hands fighting yours by pushing the cane in deeper and deeper, making you gasp for air.

‘‘How am I alive?’’ He finished your question for you, letting out a laugh as he threw his head back. The men around you both kept lingering, ready to attack if you would’ve made any sudden movements. You wished you could, but the position you found yourself in didn’t allow you to do anything other than gasp for air and hold onto the cane. ‘‘I’m an Original, little girl. I can’t be killed,’’

You couldn’t respond to him even if you wanted to and he didn’t have time to continue speaking either, as the doors were kicked open with a force that made the walls shake. You rolled your eyes up, a girl you didn’t recognize rushing over to you and Parker. She pulled the cane out of your throat and swirled it around in her hand for a second before she slammed it across Parker’s face, making him fly a few feet back, landing against the bar. ‘‘I beg to differ,’’ the girl spoke up with what you could only make out as a British accent. She sounded very proper, but her actions were anything but. She moved quick as she fought off the men that came for her, dodging bullets the bartender was shooting into her direction.

You realised that even though she seemed like she had everything under control, you had to do something. You braced yourself for what you were about to do, sucking in a deep gush of air as you dug your hand through your flesh and into your chest. You groaned out loudly in pain as you pulled out the bullets, flicking them away from you onto the floor. There were still a few splinters that you weren’t able to reach nor did you have the time for it now and with the relief of the bullets having been removed, you were able to get back on your feet. You threw back your hair, eyes darkening as you ran over to the bar, jumping on top of it─as you kicked the bartender in the face with force, he landed against the wall, the bones in his neck cracking uncomfortably. You realised he was human when he died right on the spot. You grasped the gun off the floor and jumped over the bar, kicking away the cane Parker was reaching for.

You expected him to throw a snarky comment at you, telling you how you were nothing and that you stood no chance against him, but his eyes were on the blonde female clearing out the entire bar by herself. As you saw a tear roll down his chubby cheek, you frowned deeply as you pointed to gun at his head. He didn’t seem bothered by it, not even when you took a step closer and pressed it against his temple. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, but it sure as hell would hurt.

‘‘R-Rebekah…’’ he stuttered out, his voice shaky as his eyes followed the girl moving closer to you and him when everyone else in the bar was either knocked out, or dead. She rushed a hand through her long locks, letting out a sigh as she stood next to you, looking down at the man that she just saved you from. He turned his head, looking up at the both of you, and you moved the gun to his forehead.

‘‘Hello Father,’’ she smiled sarcastically at him, her eyes showing anything but kindness. You widened your eyes as your fingers clenched around the trigger, looking at the blonde next to you and back at The Colonel. ‘‘Father?!’’ you interrupted, confusion thick on your tongue and the blonde, apparently going by the name of Rebekah, looked at you. ‘‘Unfortunately, yes,’’ she chuckled bitterly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she sighed deeply, looking back at the man on the floor.

‘‘You got a lot of nerve crying for me,’’ she spat at him when she saw another tear roll down his cheek, bending through her knees to be at eye level with him. You decided to keep quiet, watching the whole situation unfold as you pressed the gun firmer against his forehead every time he seemed as if he was going to move. He squeezed his eyes shut, full on crying now and she grabbed his throat harshly, digging her nails into his skin as she clenched her jaw. His eyes shot open as he gasped for air─you could see the hurt in his eyes and honestly, you enjoyed it. You had no idea what he had done to her, his own daughter, but you doubted it was something simple like forgetting a birthday.

‘‘Bekah, I l-love you,’’ he grunted, holding onto her wrist without using any of his enhanced strength. ‘‘I never m-meant for t-this to happen, but I couldn’t l-lose you,’’

She dug her nails in deeper, squeezing his throat tighter to stop him from talking. Pulling him forward a little, she slammed his head back against the bar, making the wood crack underneath the force. You watched with wide eyes, repositioning the gun against his head.

‘‘Yes, you did! You absolutely meant for this to happen. You didn’t want to be alone so you cursed me with immortality as soon as I was old enough,’’ she screamed fiercely in his face, tears of anger pooling in her own eyes now. ‘‘You killed everyone I loved, even my own mother, your wife… You turned me into a monster thinking we’d live as a happy little family. You shattered all of my dreams into a million pieces and when I needed you the most, you left me behind like I was nothing but trash,’’ she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, releasing his throat after she slammed him against the bar once more, making him grunt in pain. She stood up straight and turned around, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair.

‘‘I’ve been thinking about killing you so many times, fantasized about the most gruesome ways I was going to do it,’’ she said calmly, taking a deep breath before she turned around again and stood next to you, looking at her father. ‘‘I would feel bad at times for thinking such things about my own father, but then I found out what you’ve been doing… You’re still ruining people’s lives, still treating people like they’re nothing but an empty vessel, making them dance to your every tune,’’ the tone in her voice got more vicious by the second and you had absolutely no idea what her plan was, but you were still keeping yourself quiet and watching her every move. You were clueless as to what happened between them, other than that she was obviously turned against her will and that he killed her mother, and to you.. that was very good reason for wanting him dead. You wanted him dead and gone just as much, so you were definitely not going to stop her.

She bend down, reaching a hand into her knee high boots and you didn’t miss the way Parker’s eyes widened as she took a wooden stake out of it. Only this one didn’t look like the hand crafted ones you came in contact with in your few months of being a vampire─this was one was perfectly carved, smooth around the edges with a very pointy tip, a pattern of silver lines were delicately wrapped around it, pressed into the wood. You had no idea what it was made of, but it made fear take over The Colonel’s face.

‘‘But no more,’’ Rebekah spoke up, turning the stake around in her hand, looking at it. ‘‘Your immortal life ends here,’’ she said and what followed was so fast that you would miss it if you hadn’t been paying attention. She pierced the pointy end into his chest where his heart was but before she bored it all the way in, he grabbed her throat, throwing her across the bar. Apparently, his immortality and his need for power was bigger than the love for his own daughter. He ripped the stake out of his chest before he reached out to you, but you were quick as you shot a few wooden bullets in his head. He screamed out in pain and you ran over to Rebekah, helping her stand as you grabbed her hand when you saw Parker get up, that particular wooden stake in his hand─he stormed toward you both and you pulled Rebekah out of the bar, getting her as far away from the property as possible.

It took you both about ten minutes to get to the Hollywood sign, having used your enhanced speed and not caring who saw and who didn’t. You had bigger issues to be worrying about now.

‘‘How is he still even alive? I saw his heart being ripped from his chest only months ago, we left his body behind in a sea of flames!’’ You exclaimed in a panic, rushing both of your hands through your hair and tugging at the locks in frustration. Rebekah sighed deeply, leaning against one of the letters of the sign. ‘‘We’re Originals, we regenerate differently than other vampires,’’ she said, watching you pace back and forth in front of her. ‘‘The only thing that can kill him was that stake, which is in his hands now. Goddamnit!’’ She cursed loudly, kicking a rock that laid in front of her feet away with the nose of her boot. You hid your face in your hands for a few seconds, screaming in your palms in frustration and confusion. Original or not, how the hell was he able to grow back a freaking heart and walk out of a fire unscathed? This fucker just wouldn’t die.

‘‘How did you even know where to find him?’’ You then asked as you lowered your hands, coming to a halt in front of the blonde. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek, lifting her chin a little as she unfolded her arms to lift herself up onto the letter O of the sign. ‘‘I heard what happened in Vegas─word travels fast in the supernatural world,’’ she said, a bitter chuckle rolling off of her tongue. ‘‘I came out here to look for you and Elvis, to try and warn you that my Father was still alive. I’ve been following you for a while but I guess there was never a good time to talk to you, I had no idea what your reaction would be if you’d find out who I was,’’ she said, biting her lip as she sighed deeply, slumping her shoulders a little. You walked over to her to stand next to her, leaning against the sign she was on. ‘‘You’re not your father, nor do his actions define you,’’ you told her, flashing her a soft genuine smile as she pulled herself up further on the sign, pulling her legs up as she leaned in the curve of the letter.

‘‘I know that, but I’m not exactly innocent either,’’ she chuckled, turning her head to the other side to look at the skyline of the city. You jumped up the sign, sitting down across from her, hand rubbing your chest a little. Those damned splinters were uncomfortable, and honestly you had no idea how you were going to get them out, but you figured those were problems for later.

‘‘Neither am I. We’re vampires, we’re not supposed to be innocent,’’ you told her with a slight shrug of your shoulders, looking at her when she turned her head back to you. She hummed softly, nodding her head as she wrapped her arms around her legs. ‘‘For a newbie, you’re a pretty smart,’’ she grinned and you laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. You were about to ask her how she knew you were a new vampire, but then remembered her words about how news traveled fast in your kind of world. You shrugged and stretched your legs, leaning your head back against the metal of the sign. ‘‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’’ you grinned and she laughed, nodding before she put her chin on her left knee, her eyes meeting yours. ‘‘I’m sorry you had to witness.. all of that. Me and my father don’t exactly have a lot of fond memories together,’’ she sighed and you pressed your hand against your chest a bit firmer, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling underneath your skin, smiling softly at her.

‘‘Wanna talk about it?’’

She did want to talk about it and you and Rebekah must’ve spend hours on that sign, her telling about her history with her father─which was very dark and just horrible, as you expected. He killed her mother right in front of her nose when she tried to stop her husband from turning her daughter into a vampire and refused to become one herself, only minutes before he force fed Rebekah his blood and slit her throat mercilessly. He knew about his daughters’ dreams of becoming a mother some day, living a happy and normal family life with her soon to be husband at that time, but her father wasn’t having it. He made Rebekah complete her transition by killing the man she loved and while Parker exclaimed he had turned her out of love, he left her behind in Europe a few decades later. Never reached out to her anymore, hiding away in Vegas in plain sight. She tried to come after him many times but was always stopped by his little minions, which he seemed to have endless amounts of, so she eventually gave up and made sure to stay clear of him of all times, not wanting to relive all those nasty memories again. After hearing that her father supposedly died in a fire by the hands of the artist he was managing and some mystery girl, she knew he couldn’t be truly dead. Unfortunately.

You poured your heart out to her as well─telling her about Elvis and how you felt about him and how he had shared his blood with Olivia. Perhaps it was unfair of you to spill your business to a stranger, but you felt comfortable around the blonde vampire. You hadn’t had a friend in a while, a female friend who you could vent to about things such as these, and it felt good. Really good. Rebekah seemed to be comfortable around you as well, feeding you nearly her entire life story until it was getting dark and you decided to get back to the house. You took Rebekah with you because you did not want her to be alone after what happened and you figured that if The Colonel would come by the house, it would be handy to have another Original at your side.

‘‘Do you think your father will be there?’’ You whispered to her as you opened the gates to the property, walking up the driveway. She shook her head, watching you stick the key into the lock of the front door. ‘‘No, that’s too on the nose. He’s probably cooking up some devilish revenge plan right now, finding or creating new minions,’’ she snorted softly as she realised she was the reason for him having to find new people, seeing she killed all of them back at that sketchy bar. You looked at her with worry in your eyes and she flashed you a soft smile, squeezing your arm softly. ‘‘Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be here when he comes and I’m positive we can take him on. Us girls have to stick together, right?’’ She grinned, bumping her shoulder against yours in a playful manner and you laughed softly, inhaling some air through your nose as you nodded. You turned back to the door, opening it as you stepped in with a heavy feeling on your shoulders. You were still not happy with Elvis, but obviously you had to tell him.

‘‘I’ll go get Elvis to invite you in,’’ you told Rebekah and she nodded, watching you walk further into the house and disappearing into the kitchen.

As you stepped inside the kitchen, your feet came to an abrupt halt as your brain registered what was happening right in front of your nose. Your heart started beating rapidly against your ribcage, the feeling of the splinters nearing the muscle making your head spin as your hands bawled into fists, hot white rage creeping into your bones.

Olivia had already heard you coming from miles away as she was in the kitchen with Elvis. She convinced him to cook dinner with her after she succesfully convinced him to stay in the house the entire today, telling him Jerry would look for you instead─she did not want Elvis to find you and she hated how panicked and on edge he was for the entire day. She pretended to be the good innocent little friend he needed, lingering around him for the entire day. She heard your voice and another voice talking when you were making your way up to the house and as she was doing the dishes with Elvis’ help, she caught him off guard as she kissed him as soon as you came into the house and entered the kitchen.

To you, it seemed like it was a mutual activity and you had already turned around to rush back to the front door, hot tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t see the way Elvis roughly pushed Olivia off of him, giving her an angry glare before he ran after you.

‘‘Y/N! Wait!’’ He screamed as you stepped out of the house, grabbing Rebekah’s hand and tugging her along back to the gate. Elvis ran out of the house, grabbing onto your arm and you turned around fiercely, dropping Rebekah’s hand as you pulled your arm out of his grip. You knew he was a ladies man, how could he not be with the way he looked, but you never imagined that he would do this to you. You never imagined that he would be the one who would you betray you like this. After everything you’ve been through in such a short period of time, after you had a helping hand in giving back his life, his sanity. And yet, he just seemed full of surprises, didn’t he?

‘‘It’s not what it looks like, I swear to God, baby,’’ he exclaimed in panic as he reached out to you again, but before he could, you landed a slap across his cheek. He gasped softly, looking at you with wide eyes─alright, he deserved that. Maybe not for the kiss he was ambushed with, but definitely for the blood sharing he had done with Olivia.

‘‘I know what I saw, Elvis, I’m not fucking blind!’’ you screamed frustratedly in his face, shoving him away from you when he took a step forward, wanting to grab your arms. You let your tears run down your cheeks. If you thought your emotions were about to overwhelm you this morning, they were on the verge of eating you whole at this point. You were shaking with anger and when he stepped back closer to you, you landed your fists against his chest repeatedly. He managed to grab onto your wrists this time, looking at you as he tried to keep you still. ‘‘Will you let me explain?! What you just saw.. Me and Olivia, i-it’s nothin’ like you think. I promise you with every vibre of my being, Y/N, you have to believe me!’’

You were moving frantically, trying to get out of his grip but he was strong, his digits bruising your skin. All Rebekah could do was stand there and watch, not knowing if she had a right to step in. For now, she kept quiet.

‘‘Then what is it like, huh?’’ you screamed at him as you stopped moving your arms, looking at him with wide wild eyes. ‘‘First you let her fucking feed on you and now you’re casually making out in the kitchen. What’s next? Me walking in on you fucking her in our bed?!’’ you laughed emotionlessly, throwing your head back as your shoulders shook a little. You were so out of your mind, anger boiling in your veins and as you looked back at Elvis, your face shifted into its vampiric state. Elvis looked over at Rebekah─he had no idea who she was or what she was doing here, but he silently asked for her help as you were back to screaming and crying, writhing aggressively in his hold, even trying to get a head bump in which you weren’t succesful at. Rebekah stepped closer and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you back as Elvis let go of your wrists and at this point, you were kicking your legs at him when she pulled you further away from the man. Your eyes fell onto Olivia who appeared in the door opening, looking at the situation with a smile on her face and you widened your eyes, trying to fight your way out of Rebekah’s embrace. You stood no chance against her and she turned around with you in her arms, placing your feet back on the ground but you didn’t had a chance to make your way over to Olivia as the blonde pushed you against the gates roughly.

She could see the state you were in, she saw the raw emotions in your eyes. It reminded her of herself when she lost the love of her life by the forced hands of herself and she knew how excrutiatingly painful it was. You weren’t in the exact same position right now, but Rebekah realised that the amount of love you had for Elvis was very intense. You were willing to kill for him and it didn’t matter who was on the other end of your wrath─you fought an Original for him, put yourself in danger for him. You needed a break, even if it was only for a few weeks or months. Hell, even a few days.

‘‘Y/N, listen to me,’’ she whispered as she grabbed your face roughly, making you look at her. Your movements slowed down, knowing how easily she could rip your head off if you would’ve made a wrong move. ‘‘You need to turn it off,’’ she said, keeping her voice low, but Elvis heard every word that left her mouth. So did Olivia, and it only made her smile wider.

‘‘What? N-No.. No!’’ Elvis exclaimed in a panic, striding over to the both of you. He tried to peel Rebekah’s hands off of your face, but she didn’t budge and looked at him. ‘‘Her emotions are killing her, Elvis. She’s new to this, you can’t keep letting her go on like this. It doesn’t have to be forever, but it’s her best option for now and you know that,’’ she told him, trapping you in between her and the gate as she pressed her hips against yours. Elvis shook his head, rushing a frustrated hand through his hair, messing it up in the process.

‘‘Listen lady, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but she is not shutting off her humanity. She will turn into a savage and I’m sure you know just as well as I do that the longer you keep it off, the harder it will be to come back sane,’’ he told her, grabbing onto her wrists, digging his fingers into her skin. She clenched her jaw a little, looking at him with fierce eyes.

‘‘And I’m sure you will be there to bring her back, but for now it’s too much for her to handle. If you love her, you’ll let her do this to get her head straight,’’

‘‘Get her head straight?! If I love her, which I fuckin’ do, I will help her through this instead of having her shut it all off and let her go completely insane,’’ he yelled at her, still trying to get her off of you.

You kept quiet as you let the two vampires face each other down, going back and forth. You caught onto what Rebekah said about reaching deep down inside of yourself and pushing all your emotions and feelings into the deepest and darkest pit of your soul, before Elvis put his hand over her mouth firmly. As you noticed Olivia giggling behind her hand as she was still looking at you, you did exactly what your new friend told you to do. You pushed everything down, focusing on the feeling of getting rid of every emotion and feeling that clouded your mind and coursed through your being. Emptying yourself of those, you let yourself just… be.

You felt all of it fading away and Rebekah and Elvis noticed your muscles visibly relaxing, the life disappearing from your eyes as you gazed at the front door where Olivia stood. Looking at her, you didn’t care that she was smiling and enjoying this anymore. The pain of knowing Elvis shared his blood with her, their kiss… You didn’t feel anything.

Rebekah let go of you as she took a few steps back and Elvis was in front of you right away, cupping your face. When you looked at him with those empty eyes, tears burned in his own.

‘‘No no no no,’’ he repeated, panic heavy on his tongue as he caressed some of your hair out of your face, wiping his thumbs over your dampened cheeks. ‘‘Baby, no, don’t do this. Please don’t do this─I will be here, we can work through this, through all of it. But please don’t do this, come back to me,’’

You just looked at him, the state he was in and the tears that were rolling down his cheeks did absolutely nothing to you. The man you cared for and loved more than anything in the world was now… just a man. Just Elvis─nothing more, nothing less.

You gently pushed him off of you and pushed yourself up straight and off of the gates. You sighed deeply, smiling softly to yourself as you felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of your shoulders and it felt freeing. It felt amazing. You looked at Elvis and Rebekah, tilting your head a little. ‘‘I’m hungry and got splinters to get out of my chest,’’ you simply stated, walking toward the front door. Elvis frowned at your words, watching you walk away further and further away from him.

Olivia looked at you as you stopped in front of her and when she saw your emotionless eyes from up close, she backed down a little, quickly looking down to her feet. You stepped inside the house, leaning in closer to her as you stood next to her, a mean grin tugging at your lips. ‘‘Those night terrors of yours might become reality, little Liv,’’ you whispered, biting down on your teeth right next to her ear, making her startle. You laughed wickedly, walking into the kitchen to grab a blood bag.

Elvis turned around to face the blonde stranger, his jaw clenching with anger as his eyes darkened. He strided over to her, throwing her against the gate by her throat. She let out a small grunt but was back on her feet in seconds, sighing deeply as she threw her hair back. ‘‘Alright, I deserved that,’’

‘‘You’re damn right you did. Who the fuck are you?’’ He barked impatiently, already making his way back over to her. She was quick to grab onto his wrist when he was about to grab her again, twisting his arm around his back uncomfortably, turning him around in the process. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, she trapped him in her grip with his back against her chest as he groaned deeply.

‘‘I think it’s best if we talk inside the house,’’ she told him, pushing him closer to the house, letting him go as she pushed him inside. ‘‘I don’t betray my own kind, you can trust me,’’ she told him in a hushed voice, sounding serious. He sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

‘‘The Colonel’s alive,’’ you chirped up as you walked by the door, nursing a blood bag. Elvis’ eyes shot open as he looked at you, hand grabbing onto the open door. You shrugged and walked up the stairs, disappearing into your bedroom. He looked back at Rebekah and as she nodded at him, confirming your words, he took a step aside and invited her inside.

He couldn’t seem to catch a break─at this point, he wished he was the one who turned his humanity off.

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