Austin Butler Elvis imagine
Synopsis: After waiting tables at an Elvis concert you find yourself in trouble only to be saved by Mr. Presley himself.Â
Warnings: There is a scene with a fairly violent assault but nothing explicitly sexual and it doesnât get anywhere near it.Â
You had been a waitress at the Cotton Club since you got out of Highschool two years ago in 1953. It wasnât your life dream or anything, but it paid the bills and sometimes you got to meet the performers who played the club. Initially you had the night of the 6th off, but the clubâs manager had asked you to come in anyways, apparently the singer for the night was expected to bring in a big crowd and the owners were worried they couldnât handle it without all staff members being present. Oh well, all you were going to do was sit at home alone and drink the bottle of wine youâd been saving for a special occasion. You didnât have a car but the walk to the club from your small studio apartment was only thirty minutes or so.
The club itself wasnât very large, but with the fairly small Lubbock population, it didnât need to be. Walking around to the back you ducked into the employee door and hung your purse on the hooks provided just outside the kitchen.
âJoe?â you called out for your manager, assuming he had to be somewhere nearby. You heard the man before you saw him.
âY/N, is that you? Iâm sorry to call you in on such short notice. I really appreciate your- fuck!â You hid your laugh behind your hand as Joe came into view, knocking his meaty hip into the corner of the food prep counter.
âItâs no problem, Joe. I had nothing better to do anyways.â You walked around the counter, tying your bubblegum apron around your waist.
âWhoâs the artist anyways? Must be someone important if yâall really think we need all hands on deck.â Joe rubbed his balding head before looking you over.
âIf thatâs true we need to get you a better social life kiddo. Anyways, heâs a singer, real up and coming. I donât know that weâll need you all for sure, but Iâll feel better knowing youâre here. Youâre our best girl, ya know?â
âThatâs only because of my distinct lack of a social life.â You clapped your hand over Joeâs shoulder and began to move past him towards the double doors that led into the concert hall.
âIâm going to start stocking the wait station and the bar well. Let me know if thereâs anything you need me for.â The man only nodded vaguely, distracted by a sticky spot on the counter.
You shook your head before making your way through the tables that surrounded the vacant stage. After stocking the straws and cocktail napkins you went behind the bar and began cutting lime and orange wedges. Technically you werenât a barback, but the bartenders always appreciated your help and made sure your drinks were served first throughout the night. Looking up at the sound of the kitchen door you saw one of the younger waitresses glide into the room, humming under her breath. You smiled to yourself. âHello, Lorna. You sure are chipper.â
The blonde perked up, apparently unaware of your presence until now. âOh, Y/N!â She clutched her hands to her chest and sighed dreamily.
âHow could I not be? Weâre going to meet Elvis.â She dragged the unfamiliar name out wistfully and spun coquettishly, her thick skirt fanning out around her.
âWho?â You looked up at her from the table you were currently wiping down.
âWho?!â She shrieked and covered her mouth.
âElvis!â She looked at you expectantly as if saying the name for a second time would clear things up. You widened your eyes a little and moved your chin forward.
âElvis! Elvis the Pelvis!â She shook her head and threw her hands up.
âHeâs only the hunkiest man who ever lived! My cousin saw him a few months ago and she wonât shut up about it.â Her hand was on her hip now and the other was extended conspiratorially.
âThe jokeâs on her though because Iâm going to meet him and Iâm going to make him fall in love.â She popped the gum in her mouth as she closed out her sentence.
You chuckled before straightening up and moving on to the next table. âNo, I donât think Iâve heard of him. Besides, thereâs no guarantee that youâll meet him.â
âThatâs because you live under a rock. I absolutely will meet him though, Joe said I can wait on Elvis personally. I bought a new skirt just for the occasion.â She spun again and then twirled a perfect curl around her finger.
âYes, you look very pretty. Now help me wipe down these tables and put the flowers out.â You threw a rag at her and she huffed.
âFine, but if I chip a nail or my hair falls and Elvis doesnât fall head over heels for me, Iâm blaming you.â She glared playfully at you as you laughed.
âIf heâs so famous, I donât think either of those will be the reason heâs not smitten.â A half hour later the rest of the tables were ready. Lorna had disappeared before you had finished, but the other waitresses had steadily filed in and helped. They were all practically bouncing off the walls with excitement and you had heard more than a few of them sigh out, âElvis Presleyâ in between their hushed giggles.
Moving back into the kitchen you ran into Joe who was mopping his forehead with a yellowed handkerchief.
âY/N, there you are! Is everything ready?â The vein in his neck looked about ready to burst and you wondered just how important this âElvisâ was to have Joe so stressed out.
âWeâre all set, everyone is here, tables are clean, bar is stocked, and I assume you took care of the kitchen delegation.â You ticked everything off on your fingers and looked at him expectantly.
âOkay good, weâll have our staff meeting and then I want doors opened, thereâs already a massive line and theyâre getting restless.â The man swiveled around you and went back into the main hall, calling out for all your coworkers to meet him in the pit below the stage.
After the meeting everyone dispersed to their sections and the hostesses moved to open the main doors and let the crowd in. An hour on and you were swamped; Joe wasnât kidding, the house was packed. There was an opening act on stage, a young comedian who had the crowd politely laughing, but you could sense they were impatient for the main attraction. Grabbing your drinks from the bar, you weaved through customers and employees alike as the lights dimmed and the comedian closed out his act. Your master of events came out on stage and walked up to the microphone.
âGive it up for the funny man, ladies and gents!â He paused for the demure round of applause before continuing.
âNow, I know whatâ youâre all here for and I know youâre getting antsy. So, Iâm here to tell you that the wait is over. Without further ado, give it up for Mr. Elvis Presley!â He walked offstage to raucous applause that wasnât for him. Yet, as the singerâs heavy steps sounded across the stage the room fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even your coworkers around you had stopped moving and were instead staring intently at the stage. Then there was the sound of a microphoneâs hiss; Guitar wrapped around his body the man focused his gaze and the room froze. Then, in a deep southern drawl.
âThank you for having me here tonight; my name is Elvis Presley and Iâm going to sing a few songs.â His blue eyes were ringed in soft black eyeliner and his full lips seemed to be hugging the microphone. Looking to his band behind him, he nodded and then strummed an opening cord.
âOh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby.â Suddenly he was jerking his hips forward and throwing his head to the side. Looking around, you saw that every girl in the place was laser focused on the man. Breaking from your spot you continued walking to your next table to clear their empty glasses and see if they needed anything else. The woman at the table waved you off while the gentleman with her looked at you apologetically and asked for a water. You nodded and went off to get it, sparing only a second to glance up at the singer.
For a moment it seemed as if his eyes landed on you, and he sang.
âCome back, baby, I wanna play house with you.â You walked back towards the bar. He sprang into more evocative dance moves and suddenly there were girls screaming at the top of their lungs. You jumped as one near you let out a wail that seemed to burst out of her soul unbidden. Left and right, girls were clutching their chests and holding their faces in their hands. Some were bouncing in their seats, and you noticed a few were visibly clenching their legs together. You werenât dumb, these girls were obviously imagining ripping the manâs clothes off. Leaning against the bar you turned your head to itâs tender, Murray.
âI see why they call him the Pelvis now.â You threw a rag over your shoulder. Murray cracked a smile.
âYouâd think these girls had never been turned on before.â
âThey probably havenât!â He laughed along before asking if you needed anything. You didnât, having decided to leave your tables alone since you were clearly little more than a nuisance to most of their occupants while their attention was on Mr. Presley. You werenât blind, he was definitely attractive and his obscene dance moves did speak to some primal part of you, but you also knew that he was likely a rake and would never give a girl like you the time of day.
Later, after closing the club with Lorna (who wouldnât shut up about her brief interactions with Elvis), you were ambling on your way home. The streets were dark and quiet, most everyone tucked into their beds at two in the morning. You were about halfway home passing an alleyway when you heard something behind you. Turning, you saw a man emerging from the shadows. He was clearly intoxicated and started shouting in your direction.
âHey there pretty girl.â The words came slurred, and he ambled sloppily in your direction. You turned and kept walking.
âWhereâre you going so late lil girl?â You rolled your eyes at the sound of the manâs voice and quickened your pace, but you didnât get very far before you felt a hand grabbing your hair and yanking you back into a barrel chest.
Yelping, you screamed. âGet the fuck off me, creep!â
The man only laughed and leaned down to whisper in your ear.
âIt ainât polite to ignore a man whoâs talking to you.â He reached down and grabbed your breast with one hand while the other wrapped around your neck. Tears welled in your eyes before you slammed your heel down into his foot and he screamed, then let you go for a moment.
âYou little bitch!â You turned to run but he fisted his hand into your skirt, and you fell to the ground, scraping your arms and hands on the pavement. The man flipped you over and crawled his way on top of your body. Thrashing around, you tried to buck him off, but he was too strong. You threw your hands into his face trying to push your fingers into his eyes. You vaguely registered the sound of tires screeching and a car door slamming before a shout rang into the air.
âHey, get off her!â Suddenly the man on top of you disappeared with a groan as a tall figure hauled his frame to the ground a fair bit away from you. You crawled backwards on your hands until your back hit wall. In front of you, your savior was pummeling your assailant and you couldnât help but enjoy the sight. Served the scum right.
The asshole was unconscious, and the mystery man straightened and looked in your direction before making his way to you. You pulled back towards the wall and hid your face in your hands as he got closer and he stopped in his tracks, crouching down with one leg cocked a bit behind the other.
âHey, itâs okay, I ainât gonna hurt ya.â He held his hands up and you peeked from behind yours before slowly bringing them down to your knees. You looked at him, observing the dark hair that hung in his face. He smiled.
âElvis.â You breathed out his name in unison with him. He ducked his head with a chuckle.
âYeah, thatâs me. Whatâs yours? Name that is.â His elbows rested on his knees and his hands hung between his legs.
âAre you okay?â You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice. Lorna was going to flip. He shifted his weight to his front leg and stretched his hand out towards you.
âLet me help you up.â You gently placed your hand in his very large one and his fingers curled around yours. You stood together and you winced at the small amount of force he exerted against your sensitive palms. Noticing, he let go quickly.
âIâmsorry, did I hurt you?â His eyebrows flew into his hair.
âNo! No, I scraped my palms up on the pavement when he-â you stopped in your tracks. He spoke softly, his deep voice obviously trying, and succeeding to sound soothing.
âItâs okay, Y/N. That piece of shit ainât goinâ nowhere, and he definitely ainât gonâ hurt you again. Can I see?â He gestured to your hands which you were holding gingerly to your chest. You haltingly extended one towards him and he carefully held it, palm up, to his scrutinization. He used his fingers to gently pry yours apart and lightly ran the tip of one along your palm. He repeated the action after reaching for your other hand. He seemed extremely focused when he pulled your wrists up and observed the scrapes that ran down the sides of your forearms. The action had caused you to unknowingly step closer to him and you could observe his face more closely now that his attention was preoccupied. He really was handsome, and strong. He ran his tongue against his full lips absentmindedly before his eyes flickered up to yours. His gaze was piercing, and you felt your throat close in response. He held his eyes for a beat longer before letting go of your hands.
âNothing too bad, but we should get you cleaned up, doll.â You choked out a soft âokay,â then he was turning in the unconscious manâs direction. You thought, I forgot he was even here, before focusing on Elvis who was talking again.
â-and they can come get this asshole.â He was looking at you expectantly.
âI-Iâm sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?â You felt embarrassed at having missed what he said.
âThatâs alright, mama.â He smiled softly at you.
âI was just saying that Iâm going over to that payphone over there and Iâll call the police to come get this jerk.â He nodded in the direction of a payphone that was a few light posts away.
âOh, okay yeah.â You looked at the man on the ground to be sure he wasnât getting up anytime soon. Elvis noticed your glance.
âyouâll be okay, I promise. I wonât let nothinâ happen to you.â You nodded your head believing what the man said and watched as he turned towards the phone. He half jogged his way there and quickly dialed the number for emergency services. He turned and watched you as he spoke, and you were actually glad for the bit of distance between the two of you. You were suddenly processing the events of the last hour and realizing the gravity of what had almost happened. You were too busy noticing how pretty Elvis Presley really was up close to even think about the situation at hand. You were broken from your thoughts when the pretty boy in question came to a stop next to you.
âThe police are on their way.â
âThank you.â You felt stupid for not having said it earlier.
âI- I donât want to think about what wouldâve happened if you hadnât come.â
âDonât thank me, I was just doinâ what any man should do.â He smiled softly. You were about to reply when you saw two squad cars turn the corner towards you. They came to a stop about fifteen feet away and the officers inside got out.
âI heard you were in town today.â The officer speaking was glaring at Elvis.
âShouldâve known youâd be involved in this, boy.â
âI was just helping this lovely lady, Sir.â He spat the last word out and straightened his back. You werenât sure what was going on but assumed that cops and Elvis didnât necessarily get along. If all the hullaballoo at the concert was any indication, it was logical that the man had a bit of a bad boy reputation. You didnât care though; he had saved you. You stepped forward from Elvisâs side.
âOfficer, I donât know what you think is going on here, but this man likely saved my life and did most of your job for you. The man you ought âa care about is layinâ over there.â You gestured over to the crumpled excuse of a man. After getting both yours and Elvisâs statements the officers put your attacker in handcuffs and pushed him into the back of a squad car. They gave you their information and said they would be in touch within the next few days. Watching the two cars pull away you turned to Elvis again.
âI really canât thank you enough Mr. Presley. Iâm sorry to have kept you so late. Iâm sure you have somewhere you need to be.â You ducked your head and pushed the hair that fell in your face behind your ear. His hands were in his pockets, and he tucked his tongue into his cheek before rocking on his heels.
âI still donât know why youâre thanking me. I should thank you for standing up for me just now.â You let out a short laugh before clapping your hand over your mouth.
âNo, that was nothing. Definitely not lifesaving.â He smiled and bounced his chin.
âNo, but I appreciate it. Lot of folks that think Iâm evil.â He flashed a wink so fast you couldâve missed it.
âYou might be a rake, but youâre not evil.â
âA rake?!â He clutched his hand to his heart.
âMaâam, Iâm just a man who likes to sing, ainât my fault that pretty girls like the way I dance.â
âOh, is that what it is?â You crossed your arms over your chest.
âYou tell me, pretty girl.â He looked at you from under his eyelashes with a small smile.
âOh, ho, ho, definitely a rake. Only a rake can flirt that good.â
âYouâre killing me!â He took his hands out of his pockets and held car keys in one of them.
âCan the rake take you home?â
âOh no!â You were not going to inconvenience him any further.
âThatâs okay. I can walk, itâs not far.â
âThen itâll be a short drive.â He walked over to his car that was still stopped in the street and held the passenger door open for you.
âCome on, I insist.â You hesitated, looked back at the sidewalk before turning toward the car and made your way over while his grin widened. A short time later Elvis was pulling to a stop in front of your building.
âWell thank you, again.â You moved to open your door when he stopped you with a hand on your arm. He spoke softly, his blue eyes deeply earnest.
âLet me get that.â He got out and came around to your side before he pulled the door open and held out a hand to help you. You grabbed it and let him guide you from your seat. He made sure you were firmly planted on the ground before turning to shut the door. When he faced you again his eyes were soft, and his mouth hung open slightly.
âHere we are.â He took your hands gently in his before looking up at the building. You looked up at his sharp jawline and made a quick decision.
âI could use some help patchinâ up the scrapes that I canât see very well.â
âCareful lil mama, somebody might think youâre inviting a rake up to your apartment.â He smiled cheekily and dipped his head down. You scoffed.
âWell never mind then.â You pulled your hands away from his and walked over to the stairs that led into the building.
âGoodnight, Mr. Presley.â He ran over to you, one arm reaching for your hand.
âWait, wait, wait. I was just foolinâ Iâm sorry. May I please help?â He was a step below you when your hands touched again, and you looked down at the place they met.
âIâm sure you need to get going, youâre on a tour, arenât you?â You knew you shouldnât, but you really wanted to drag him up the stairs to your apartment. He looked frustrated. His eyes scrunched together, and he seemed to stall out before he spoke.
âNo- well yes, Iâm on tour, but I ainât got nowhere else to be right now. I wanna be here, with you.â Â Ugh, you couldnât help it. He was a bona fide dreamboat and he wanted to come to your apartment. Rake or not, this was Elvis the Pelvis, and you hadnât been laid since your last boyfriend.
âIâm not that kind of girl.â
âI didnât say you were.â He was closer now, still a step below, but his hands had moved up your arms and rested on your waist. He looked up at you and the breath flew out of your lungs. It should be a sin to look at someone the way he was looking at you. âBut now that I met ya, I wanna know ya, darlinâ. Donât you wanna know me?â His eyes were open wide and if you didnât know any better, youâd believe he really thought you could say no. Your teeth worried at your bottom lip as you made up your mind.
âYouâre gonna be trouble Mr. Presley.â His smile turned devilish, and he rose as if to kiss you, one hand at the back of your head.
âCall me Elvis, baby.â
âWell come on up, I guess.â You smiled before trapping your lip between your teeth. He surged forward, wrapping his strong arms around your body. His lips dominated yours as he threaded fingers through your hair.
Lorna wasnât going to flip; she was going to slip into a murderous rage.
Okay look, this fell out of me yesterday and I definitely donât hate it, but itâs just a jumping off point which is why I didnât take it past the final scene. If I got to 4k Iâd feel like I had to make a full length fic. Let me know what you think and feel free to send in requests.Â
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