Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@ssinnerplazahotel
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ོ ~Masterlist~
Brought to you by: Ssinnerplazahotel
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Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis/yandere reader, elvis has a gun, manipulation, death threat, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s/70s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Playlist
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~Birdie&E Masterlist~
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~Winning Birdie Masterlist~
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~In Pursuit of Endless Nights~
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~Winning You~
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WC:9k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, elvis has a gun, manipulation, death, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s/70s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
‘Winning Birdie’ - Elvis’s Version. ❤️🩷❤️🩷
Note: This story is a revision of a previous alternate universe (AU). It does not stand alone—please make sure to read ‘Winning Birdie’ for context.
*
1956…
He waited every night. Not obviously, and never too long to actually put a delay in the schedule. But after every show, after the crowd had cleared out and he and the guys had everything loaded back onto the truck, he lingered.
He never really expected to see you. It was more of a compulsion than anything.
“Let’s go, E.P.”
“I’m right behind you.”
He stood at the back entrance of the building and wondered how you’d get in from the front. You wouldn’t know your way around a building of this size. He had to remind himself that the building wasn’t the only thing separating him from you. There were miles and miles of distance between you. Distance that seemed too grand for you to travel.
He tried to catch his breath and let it go—let you go—but he couldn’t. He knew that even after he’d searched every single face in the crowd for yours, he’d round the corner and climb into his truck, drive fifty miles further away from you—or closer, he didn’t know—and he wouldn’t be able to fully inhale until he saw you again.
“Took you long enough.”
That must’ve been a lie, because he still couldn’t breathe. Worse, he felt lightheaded. Whatever breath that was left in his lungs had fully been taken away upon seeing you.
Regardless of whatever emotion had overwhelmed him, he steadied himself and greeted you with a confident smile.
“Every time I see you I go to pinch myself.”
You shifted to your other foot and did that thing where you pretended to have an attitude. “Do you know what it takes for a girl like me to get this far this fast?”
“I’m sure Ohio’s happy you’re here.”
“Ohio better not be the only thing happy to see me,” You said. “I might turn my ass around.”
He laughed but he couldn’t deny the way his gut tightened at the prospect of you leaving. “Y-You wanna ride with us?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m headed to meet someone. I just thought I’d surprise you while I was here.”
He expected to care more about whatever business you had in Ohio. Instead, he felt less annoyed and more obligated to make sure you got there safely. “Where ya headed? W-We can drop you off on the way.”
“I’m going back that way, opposite direction.”
“What way?”
“That way.” You motioned vaguely.
“Let’s go, EP. Truck’s already rollin.”
You looked past him at the truck and it felt like you were already gone. “You should go.”
He stepped in front of you. “W-Will you come with us?”
“Baby, I already said—”
“Please?” He was desperate not to lose you again so quickly. “You don’t know where you’re headed anyway, what’s the difference?”
Your eyes were wide with humor as you joked about them leaving, however, Elvis found nothing funny.
“Get in the truck.”
“…I-I really can’t.”
He noticed your hesitation. You wanted to come, but you weren’t allowing yourself to. “Why?” They blew the horn and he got this anxious feeling deep in his gut. “I can’t just leave you standing here—”
“Let’s play a game.” You were suddenly rummaging around your purse for something. As much as he tried to force that moment to feel like a lifetime, it didn’t last. You eventually found what you were looking for. “Take…uhm, take this, okay?”
“Why?” He felt dejected as you put the silver compact mirror in his palm.
You smiled up at him. “So you can give it back when I see you next time.”
And suddenly there was hope again.
“Kiss me.” You stood up on your tiptoes and he pulled your body against his. The kiss wasn’t long enough or even worth a damn before you were pushing him away.
No. He wanted to say. Don’t make me leave you.
“Go.” You pulled away. “Be careful.”
“Me be careful? You be careful.” He forced his feet to carry him the rest of the way to the truck. He didn’t feel as heavy when he climbed into the passenger seat.
“Elvis!”
There was a split second where he thought you’d changed your mind and he’d see you rushing over to get in. He saw you laughing when he stuck his head out of the window and he instantly found himself smiling again.
“What?” He called as the truck started rolling.
“I love you!”
He couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
“I love—” You motioned to your heart and he was sure of what you were saying. “—you!”
He couldn’t make out your expression as the truck picked up speed and made its way down the road. He sunk down into his seat and stared ahead in shock.
“Who’s that, E?”
Elvis swallowed and turned the compact mirror over in his hand.
“…That’s nobody.”
“Didn’t look like ‘nobody.’”
Scotty and Bill laughed but he was preoccupied by the terrible feeling taking root deep inside his core.
He feared he loved you too.
*
She wasn’t perfect.
No—she was perfect, that was the problem.
He had set himself up for failure before even going through with tonight. He told himself that it’d be easy to find someone to take his mind off of you—he just needed to find the perfect girl.
What was the perfect girl compared to you?
“What’s the matter, baby?” Her voice was sweet but not as smooth as yours. It didn’t melt over him or pull him in. “Elvis?”
He hadn’t noticed that he stopped responding. “Sorry?”
The girl laughed and her smile was beautiful. So beautiful that it reminded him of you.
He looked away.
The girl—he couldn’t remember her name—sighed. “You did it again.”
“What?”
“You got that look on your face.”
“What look?” Elvis asked.
“Like you can’t stand the sight of me.”
“O-Oh, no, baby, it’s not that. You…y-you’re beautiful.”
She moved closer. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No.”
She laughed again—embarrassed. “Oh.”
“You remind me of someone, that’s all.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“No,” he said.
“A lover?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Just…some girl I met.”
She instantly began gathering her things. “You should call her. Maybe she can help you work through whatever this is.”
“Wait—” Elvis stopped her. “You can’t leave.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean, I don’t want them to think…”
She scoffed. “Good night. Call your girlfriend if you need someone around to stroke your ego.”
She left and Elvis didn’t feel all too compelled to stop her anymore.
“Fuck it.” He stood to call the number that he had swindled out of BB. He hoped it worked and that you were somewhere near the phone in time to pick up.
You weren’t.
He knew better than to call twice.
*
1958…
The thought of Germany loomed over him like a cloud. When you talked about it, you made it sound like hope.
“No matter what happens, bun, you gotta know that it’s gonna be okay. They can take whatever they want. They can’t have your soul. That’s yours. It’ll always be yours, even after this. You’ll see.”
“Do you think they’ll remember me?”
You laughed. “I think they’re going to make sure everyone remembers you, baby.”
It didn’t feel like enough to assume that all would be well.
“I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” He said.
“You never know when you’ll see me again.”
“There’s no chance in Germany.”
You lifted your head. “You underestimate me—”
“There’s not a chance.” He hated the way the humor in your eye faded away, but he wanted you to realize how little time there was left to hold onto. He had to remind himself that maybe you didn’t care as much. It never felt like you cared.
“Hey,” You said, pouting softly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
It wasn’t enough.
“I brought something else for you to hold onto for me.”
He saw the glint in your eyes again. “What?”
“Swear you won’t laugh.”
“I promise.”
You stuck your pinky out and he returned the gesture before watching you reach for your bag.
“You see…I wasn’t going to go through with this,” You said as you dumped the purse out onto the floor. You shuffled through the items as you spoke. “But, I will…do it for you. Aha, here it is.”
“What’s this?” He took the picture out of your hand and smiled upon realizing. “It’s you.”
“Now whenever you get that silly feeling you won’t have to ask BB if I’m real, you can just look at this photo and you’ll know.”
“Birdie…”
“Don’t make it into something,” You said, pretending to be preoccupied with packing your purse back up. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s—“
“A piece of paper.”
He didn’t argue. He only leaned forward to leave a kiss on your cheek.
“I’ll take a match to it,” you warned.
“I’ll come back for you.”
“Elvis, come back for yourself.”
He disregarded that comment. “Why do you have all that shit?”
“It’s not shit, it’s my stuff.”
“It’s shit.”
“Do you mind?”
“Where will you go after this?”
“Home.”
“Ron?”
“That’s home, bunny.”
“Do you want a ride?”
“Taking a ride with you would be the opposite of keeping a low profile.”
“How will I know—” You gave him a look and he knew. “Right.”
He shifted to put his arm around you, half expecting you to protest his affection. You didn’t. You only smiled and leaned back into his embrace.
“Are you gonna try to make friends?” You wondered.
He enjoyed the way you rested so comfortably in his arms. For a moment it was easy to believe that this was real. That you were real and BB hadn’t paid you to show up tonight. “I don’t think so.”
“You should.”
“Where do you want to go after this?”
You hesitated, as if you were shocked by the question. “I don’t know…things have been picking up in Nevada lately.”
“Oh, really?” He didn’t mean to sound upset.
“…Why’d you ask?”
“I don’t know.”
You fell silent and for a moment Elvis thought he saw some emotion flicker behind your eyes. Pity maybe.
He could never tell what you were thinking.
Before he could ask, you had already moved on to the next conversation. “…Do you think they’ll sleep outside if you stay here?”
“Probably.”
“You really know how to make a mess.”
“What can I say?”
You played with the frayed hem of your dress like it was the only thing grounding you in that moment.
Elvis couldn’t help but watch you, too scared to blink in case you vanished the second he looked away.
You were always slipping away. Always gone before he could beg you not to be.
You laid your head back on his shoulder, resting like you belonged there. You relaxed slowly, bit by bit—like you didn’t want to make it obvious that you were getting comfortable.
He tried to memorize every angle of your face, the way your throat curved toward him, the shadow of your smile. Things a photo couldn’t capture.
“I don’t know if I can sleep down here,” you said.
“Don’t sleep.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“…It can be.”
He didn’t say it to sound cool. He said it because it was the only thing he could offer. The only thing that might make this moment last as long as possible.
You turned your head to him, curious. “How?”
He reached over into his coat and pulled out the little glass vial tucked beside his lighter. He didn’t look at you when he said it.
“It’s just…something the boys showed me on tour. Keeps you up.”
When he finally met your eyes, he expected a no. Expected you to tell him he was disgusting. Or stupid.
There was none of that.
“…Show me.”
That was it. That was the moment he would go on to remember long after you disappeared again.
“You sure?”
You nodded.
He twisted the lid off. His fingers didn't shake—because he’d done this a hundred times before.
He didn’t make a show of it. No speeches. No warnings. He took the first hit then he handed it to you like he was passing a secret—like you were part of some private world now.
Elvis didn’t know if it was fear or anticipation, but your hands shook when you reached for the vial.
“Baby, you don’t have to—” he rushed to say.
“I want to.”
He didn’t believe that, not fully. But he let you anyway. Because he needed you here—on his wavelength, even if it meant nothing to you but a free high.
You took it like you’d done it before, but not often. Then you sat back again and stretched your legs out like you were suddenly weightless.
He took another. It made him hot in the chest and behind the eyes, but he wasn’t tired anymore and neither were you.
When he looked back up, you were still there. Quiet. Barefoot. Wide-eyed and beautiful.
A few beats passed before you spoke. “I feel weird.”
Elvis’s eyes were glassy but warm. “Good weird or bad weird?”
You looked at him for a long time but never responded. He forgot what he was waiting for and eventually got lost in every part of you just like you had gotten lost in every part of him.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered sometime into the night—still buried inside you, lost in the way your eyes never left his.
You didn’t say anything, but you leaned into him just enough to make him abandon that train of thought for something better.
Neither of you were going to sleep. Not tonight.
And maybe not even tomorrow.
*
The room had fallen quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was the kind of quiet that rang in his ears, the kind that made his heartbeat feel too loud.
The old fan clattered in its place, blowing warm air around the stale space. The floorboards sighed with every shift of your weight.
You thought he was asleep.
That’s what stung the most.
Two days. That’s how long the two of you had been there—curled around each other in BB’s attic like a secret neither of you wanted to explain.
BB didn’t make you explain either. He didn’t wonder or ask about your wild eyes when you slipped down in the middle of the night for food. He complained about the crowd of people outside waiting for Elvis, but he was never serious. He would rather you be locked in his attic than god knows where doing god knows what. He never showed it, but he also worried that each time he saw you would be the last.
Time dissolved in a haze of unspecified drugs and kisses that tasted like they wouldn’t last.
Elvis kept his eyes shut, his breathing slow and even. The floor was uncomfortable without you there. Hard and impossible to settle into.
Your spot beside him was still warm. He wanted to reach for it. Reach for you. But he didn’t.
He heard the soft rustle of your dress being pulled up over your hips. The gentle snap of your bra. The slow zip of your bag and your careful fingers grazing over each little thing you brought with you—as if packing your escape neatly made it feel less like leaving.
You were careful not to wake him.
He hated that you were so good at it.
It made him wonder how often you snuck away from men in the dead of night.
There was a pause.
He knew you were standing there, looking at him. He pictured you biting your lip, blinking slow, like maybe this was the time you'd say fuck it and curl back up beside him.
But then came the creak of the floorboard near the attic door.
The sound of you leaving felt like a betrayal.
You turned the knob like it might hurt you. Like maybe you didn’t want to go, but couldn’t make yourself stay.
And he still didn’t move.
Because if he opened his eyes, he’d have to admit you were gone. And if he asked you to stay, you might say no.
So he let you go.
Let you walk barefoot down the stairs with his hands still imprinted on your thighs. Let the door click shut behind you like a breath he couldn’t hold any longer.
Only then did he open his eyes.
The ceiling above him blurred. He cried but it wasn’t him. He didn’t feel anything.
Not really. Just the same impending doom he’d been feeling since he found out about Germany.
He told himself to get used to this.
You never stayed and his fate was sealed.
*
1960…
The phone was already ringing by the time Vernon got to the kitchen. Elvis hadn’t made any move to pick it up.
“Hello?” his father answered, gravel-voiced and half-asleep. “This is Vernon, who’s this?”
There was a pause.
“Who is this?”
Elvis looked up to tell Vernon to hang up the phone—no one important would be calling so late.
He was already out of his chair, ready to snatch the phone when the name slammed into his chest like a punch.
“Who’s Birdie?” Vernon asked.
He crossed the room in seconds. “Give me the phone.”
Vernon didn’t ask questions. Just handed it over, brows drawn as Elvis pressed the receiver to his ear.
“Birdie?”
He held his breath.
“Is that you, bunny?”
Jesus Christ. The sound of your voice, that old nickname—it knocked the wind out of him.
He gripped the phone tighter. “Holy shit. It’s you.”
“Elvis?”
He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to start.
It was really you.
“W-What are you doing? Are you home? It’s been—Where’s Ron? A-Are you still—?”
“Elvis,” you interrupted, sharper now.
“Yeah?”
“I-I really…I don’t know what to say, I-I’m really s-sorry t-to call like this—”
“What’s wrong? Are you home?”
“Yes, but…”
He heard the quiver in your breath. Then silence. “Birdie? Baby? H-Hello?”
“I need you to come pick me up.”
He blinked. His heart pounded. “What?”
“I-I…I don’t know…” Your voice broke. “I’m s-so… I know I haven’t called, I haven’t been in town…I tried t-to stay away.”
“Where are you?” His mouth was dry—he’d never heard you cry before. “Are you with Ron?”
“No. I haven’t been with him s-since…s-since she’s been back.”
“Who?”
“My mother,” you sobbed like you couldn’t hold it together anymore. The sound of it nearly brought him to his knees. You weren’t allowed to sound so broken “I-I came back because I thought he s-said he…he told me he’d hurt her if I didn’t c-come back. I tried to stay away. I really wanted to—”
Oh, baby, no. Oh no no no—
“Where are you?”
“I w-was trying to protect her. I just wanted t-to protect her.”
“Baby, I can’t find you if you don’t tell me where you are.” His voice shook despite his best efforts to keep it calm.
“You can’t find me?”
Your panic rose like a wave and he scrambled to keep you from falling apart.
“I’m gonna find you, honey, I swear, I just need you to tell me what you see. Did you walk from Ron’s or what?”
“I g-got a ride, uhm…here, downtown. I was trying to…I was gonna keep walking but my leg…my leg isn’t right…”
His chest squeezed. His jaw locked.
You were hurt.
“What do you see, Birdie?”
“I see uhm…t-the loan office.”
“Lippman’s?”
“Yeah.”
His whole body kicked into gear. “Okay. Baby, I’m gonna come up and get you. I need you to stay put—don’t go fluttering around, you hear me?”
“M-My leg…”
“I’m on my way. Stay right there. Don’t move.”
He didn’t even hang up properly. Just let the phone dangle, still swinging as he grabbed his coat and keys.
He stumbled into Jerry on his way out, shirtless and wide-eyed. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I gotta go,” Elvis said, already moving. “Something happened a-and she’s hurt. I have to go get her.”
“Who?”
“I don’t have time to explain, Jerry, she’s downtown by herself and she’s not okay—”
“You can’t drive like this—”
“Then you drive. But I’m going.”
Jerry took the keys and didn’t argue again.
They were out the door in seconds.
The ride was a blur. The city passed by in streaks of neon and darkness. Elvis sat stiff in the passenger seat, leg bouncing, hands fisting and unfisting in his lap. Everything inside him was crawling. Itching.
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
And then—there you were.
Slumped in the corner of a phone booth, trembling, eyes glassy and lost.
Waiting for him.
He was out of the car before it had even stopped moving.
“Birdie!”
You turned toward him, dazed and small.
He reached you in seconds, dropping to his knees.
“I’m here,” he whispered, gathering you against his chest. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Let me look at you.”
“No.” You hid your face in the crook of his neck, like you were ashamed to be seen.
“Why?”
“It’s not good.”
“Okay…” He felt himself panicking but he didn’t let it show. “Jerry, help me get her out of here.”
He kept you in his arms even after you’d fallen unconscious. He was scared and he didn’t know what to do with you. But for the first time in years, that thing inside of him finally stopped yearning.
*
He didn’t bother slipping out of bed quietly or trying to pretend he wasn’t about to walk out. He didn’t even look back before shutting his bedroom door and crossing the hall.
“What are you doing?” you asked, voice soft and scratchy from sleep.
“Checking on you.”
“Why?”
“I was worried…”
You blinked at him, then curled tighter into the pillow. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded, already drifting again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, low.
“For what?”
“For waking you up.”
“Oh.”
“Go back to sleep.”
But you didn’t. At least not for long. Because soon, you were shaking him awake with concern threaded through your voice.
“Elvis,” you whispered. “Bunny?”
He startled awake and sat up like he hadn’t been sleeping at all. “What’s wrong?”
“You tell me,” you said. “It’s the middle of the day.”
He sighed and laid back down. “So what?”
“You didn’t go back.”
He stretched, nonchalant. “I was gonna spend the day with you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I was,” he muttered.
You were already smirking. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“No?”
“You slept in by accident.”
“How would you know?”
“Red already stopped by. She’s looking for you.” Elvis groaned. “I told him to cover your ass while I wake you up and send you down.”
A smile flickered across his face. “You shouldn’t have said that.”
“You shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
“I’m not going downstairs.”
“You have to.”
His tone changed. A quiet challenge. “And why is that?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
A pause. His brow twitched. “I don’t know why you pretend to give a shit—”
“I want you to stop sneaking in here in the middle of the night if you aren’t going to leave in time in the morning.”
His jaw clenched. “So what, it’s fine as long as it’s a secret?”
“I just think disappearing every night is pretty blatant when you have a girlfriend, E.”
He didn’t answer right away. Then, softer:
“Sometimes I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning.”
You snorted, half-laughing. “That’s not gonna work on me.”
“Come here.”
“No.”
“Let me hold you.”
“Like that’s all you’re interested in.”
He laughed under his breath. “What?”
“You know what.”
“I’m a man. I can’t help it if I wake up itching.”
“You better get in the shower and start scratching.”
He sat up and rubbed his face. “I will. If it’ll prove that’s not all I’m here for.”
You mocked a pout. “Aw, bunny. You’d jerk off alone in the shower for me?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
The humor slipped right out of your smile.
“You weren’t supposed to make that sentimental.”
“I just want to spend some time with you before you leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
His expression didn’t change. “Yes you are.”
“Not anytime soon.”
“Why should I believe you? You been running around on that leg for days.”
Instead of responding, you kissed him. A deep, loaded kiss. One that felt like you were saying I’m sorry and you already know.
“Please,” you whispered, “go downstairs after this.”
“Okay,” he lied, only because he needed to say something you’d accept.
You seemed satisfied for the moment and slipped your hand under the covers. “What do you want?”
“Anything.”
“Anything?” You teased. He couldn’t help the sound he made when you touched him. You smiled. “I might take advantage of such a wide range of options.”
“I want you to.”
“Come on, E. Don’t make me read your mind.”
“I don’t wanna tell you. I just want you to do it.”
You laughed. “Lazy Sunday?”
He blinked. “Is today Sunday?”
“It is.”
“…You’re keeping track of the days.”
“So what if I am?”
“You must already have a countdown going—”
“You’re right, baby,” you said, sarcastic now. “I take a notch out of the bedpost every morning, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape.”
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t say a thing. You realized too late that it had hit him wrong.
“I can’t believe you’re ruining this,” you muttered, hand withdrawing. “You’re this close to having your dick in my mouth.”
“It’s hard to fuck you when I keep picturing you leaving,” he said, voice cold.
“Then picture me staying,” you challenged, shifting and palming him again.
He didn’t respond.
Not until he suddenly sat up and shoved the covers off. There was a sudden change in the air, his mood dropped like a stone.
“What time is it?” he muttered.
“Elvis—”
“You should come downstairs with me. Everyone seems to just love when you’re there.”
He got up and walked toward the bathroom. He felt you watching, angry and confused.
“I don’t believe you,” you said. “You’re acting like a baby.”
He didn’t turn around. “Go downstairs, Birdie.”
“No.”
“Then fucking…stay right there. See how much I care.”
You were already on your feet when the bathroom door slammed shut. He locked it in time but the knob still rattled violently under your hand.
“Open it,” You demanded.
He said nothing.
“You’re a crazy person. You…you jackass.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.
“You’re a jackass. You can’t say you’re gonna spend the day with me and then overthink yourself into a rabbit hole so bad you storm out—”
“I’m not down a rabbit hole—”
“Yes, you are!” You smacked the door. “You’re over here losing your mind plotting my escape before I’ve even thought about it!”
“Birdie—” He yanked the door open, ready to shout, but you didn’t give him the chance.
You shoved your way in, palms flat against his bare chest, eyes wild.
“Make me stop,” you dared, backing him against the sink. “Make me.”
He didn’t.
“Elvis.”
Nothing.
“Say something or I’ll leave right now.”
His nostrils flared. His jaw twitched.
You started to walk away but his hands were already on your waist. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
“On your knees.”
You dropped like gravity had taken you.
And the moment your hands touched him again, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Don’t stop.”
And you didn’t. He knew you needed it, too.
Relief.
The only kind you knew how to give.
*
He knew that you were gone the moment he woke up.
The house felt empty.
Everything felt void.
Hollow.
Like the place had been gutted and robbed of anything that mattered.
Elvis stood in the middle of your empty room.
It wasn’t your room before but now that’s all it could ever be. The space that once felt like it belonged to you. Now as empty as he felt inside.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t check the bathroom for you or go downstairs calling out your name. He wanted to but instead he just stared at the place you used to sleep. Like if he looked long enough, you might appear again.
And when you didn’t?
He flipped the fucking dresser.
Lamps, mirrors, abandoned perfume bottles that you must’ve cared about as much as him to leave behind.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, grabbing at anything in reach, throwing it just to hear something break. Just to drown out the part of himself that was screaming without a voice.
He didn’t even hear his girl come up behind him.
“Elvis?” Her voice was small, scared.
He turned to face her like a cornered animal. Red-eyed. Sweating. Breathing like he’d been running for hours. “Don’t.”
“I was just going to—”
“Don’t fucking look at me right now.”
She flinched.
His hands were shaking as he backed away. “Get out.”
“Elvis—”
“I said get out, goddammit!”
She left—quickly, and without another word. That part made it worse. Made him hate himself a little more.
He didn’t clean up. Instead crawled into your bed like it would make him feel better somehow.
He laid his head on the same pillow you used, and pressed his nose into it like he could wring out the scent of your skin. You were gone, but maybe he could pretend until you faded completely.
The time that followed wasn't just bad for him—it was bad for everyone.
He turned to stone. Cold, short-tempered, unreachable. He started micromanaging everything—like being in control of every little thing and every person in his life would make up for the fact that he couldn’t control you.
Every girl he met he made them dress like you.
Full lashes. Dark liner. Nail polish in that soft off-white shade you always wore. Hair done exactly the way it was the first time he’d laid eyes on you: a French twist without a hair misplaced. Only ever a French twist.
“Can you do your hair like that again?”
“Wear this dress instead.”
“No, sweetheart, like this.”
None of them could get it quite right.
They didn’t laugh like you. Didn’t lie like you. Didn’t look at him like he was someone they could walk away from without looking back.
When they loved him, he left. When they hated him, he left. When they couldn’t bend without breaking, he left.
They couldn’t make him stay.
He started smoking more.
Started sleeping less.
And no one was brave enough to call it what it was.
Heartbreak.
*
1963…
There was always a girl. Always someone just barely filling that space—never quite measuring up.
His new girl had reached her wits end. He had known that for a while but he didn’t say anything.
Now, she stood there, hands clutched tight at her sides, ready to spill her guts. She was in full makeup, wearing the soft lavender dress he picked out—he wondered why she had bothered getting dressed at all.
Maybe she had hope for this conversation.
“Elvis,” she said softly.
He didn’t turn.
He felt her watching as he adjusted his collar in the mirror. The gold around his neck glinted beneath his open shirt, perfectly styled. Too perfect. It always was.
“Elvis, I need to talk to you.”
Still nothing.
“You told me we could talk.”
“I have a party,” he said flatly.
“I know. But you said—”
He turned to face her, forcing that same unreadable look he always wore now—distant, cool, unreachable.
He glanced at the dress. “It looks good on you.”
She blinked. “You picked it.”
“You look like you’re supposed to.”
That part sounded strange, but she didn’t ask.
She was used to being confused now.
“Elvis,” she tried again, voice breaking. “Do you even see me anymore?”
He looked at her, but didn’t speak.
“Do you care how I feel? I…I cry all the time. When I try to talk to you about my feelings, you just look past me. Like I’m not even here.”
He moved toward her, but there was no urgency behind his steps. He reached up and touched her hair—gently, carefully, he tucked one strand behind her ear where it belonged. “Did you use the setting clips I gave you?”
She jerked her head back. “Are you serious? That’s what you want to talk about?”
He blinked. “It’s just…it doesn’t look like it did the first day.”
She stared at him. “I love you, Elvis…do you love me?”
He looked down at her, still blank.
“Do you even like me? Or am I just a part of some…some image you’re trying to hold onto.”
“You’re being dramatic,” he muttered, stepping past her.
“No. I’m being honest. You control how I dress, how I speak, how I wear my hair and you aren’t even nice about it. I-I thought it was just…your way. But now I think it’s because you have no control of anything else in your life and you’re taking it all out on me.”
He stopped moving. His back to her.
She waited.
Waited for him to turn around. To deny it. To fight for her.
He didn’t.
Instead, he walked to the closet and pulled out a jacket.
Slipped it on.
Checked his cufflinks.
“You can stay or go,” he said finally. “But I got people waiting.”
He didn’t wait to hear her heart break.
There was no need for an apology. He wasn’t sorry. He wished he could be softer, warmer—but all he felt was the dull ache of a man who’d been abandoned one too many times.
He smoothed the collar of his jacket. Fixed the part in his hair and left her there.
He didn’t have to watch her walk out. And for that, he was relieved.
Deep down, a part of him hoped she’d take the dress with her when she left. He didn’t want to waste it on the next girl.
At the party that night, surrounded by Hollywood’s finest, he didn’t smile for the cameras.
He didn’t drink.
He watched.
Scanning.
Waiting.
Looking for a new voice to fill the silence.
Until he saw you.
Back turned. Laughing at something Don Siegel whispered against your neck.
And for the first time in three years, Elvis’s heart didn’t ache.
It sank.
What the hell were you doing with him?
*
You were breathing slowly beside him. Not quite asleep—still fighting not to be.
The soft cotton of his shirt clung to your frame like it had always been yours. And for a minute, Elvis let himself believe it was—that maybe this was how it was supposed to end. Or start. He didn’t even know anymore.
“Go to sleep,” He chuckled in a whisper.
You shifted, but you were already slipping. “You first.”
“You’re not even awake.”
“I’m awake.”
You were barely clinging to consciousness—but you wanted to be there, in that moment. That had to mean something, right?
“Birdie?”
“Hm?”
“Are you asleep?”
You responded without hearing. “Yeah…”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
He stared at you as you slept, his arm still loosely thrown over you. His pulse hadn’t slowed since you walked through the door—even now his heart was racing.
He blamed it on the way you made him feel like you were already gone—constantly slipping through his fingers.
He blamed it on the way you looked at him like you cared about every single thing he said—even if you were acting, it felt like you wanted to hear what he was saying.
The sing-songy sweetness behind your voice when you spoke made his chest hurt. He loved you even after all this time.
Your lips were parted, barely. He could hear the soft hum of your breath. Your hand twitched against your thigh and you grimaced for a moment.
You were always so restless.
A quiet sound slipped from your lips. Almost a whimper.
“Birdie?” he whispered, his hand already reaching for yours.
Your brows twitched faintly, a line creasing between them. The tension spread through your jaw, down your arms. You curled inward, trying to escape something invisible.
“No…” you murmured, voice small and cracked. “Please, don’t—”
His chest tightened.
You were dreaming—it sounded like a nightmare.
“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
Your breath trembled. He moved closer.
“You’re alright,” he said gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re with me.”
You exhaled, long and slow. The tension left your jaw. Your hand, clenched into a fist, relaxed.
He pulled the blanket higher over your shoulders and tucked you into the crook of his arm.
“There you go,” he breathed.
Your lips parted again and the tiniest sigh fell between them.
For the first time all night, he felt you actually settle into his embrace.
He let his eyes close, and let the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.
*
It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
The plan was to make you see it.
The cars, the suits, the production team falling over themselves—the extras gathered around giggling over who he had smiled at first.
All he wanted was for you to see that while you’d spent the past three years pretending not to care, the rest of the world craved him.
Every room he walked into—he controlled it. Every look, every gesture—they held weight.
He wanted you to realize.
But seeing you with Joel, practically in his lap, smiling at his party like the entire room didn’t already know who you were…it made him livid.
He heard your voice before he even rounded the corner.
Low, teasing. That lilt you used when you were trying to charm someone into doing something stupid.
You were standing way too close to the guard. Pouting up at him like it was a goddamn joke.
“It’s either that or spending the night with me.”
Something in him snapped.
“Birdie.”
You jumped like you’d been caught stealing—which, in a way, you had. Always stealing people’s time, always seeking to garner attention.
“Elvis, don’t—”
“What the fuck are you doing, huh?” he barked, stalking toward you.
You looked startled. The guard looked guilty. Good. He should.
“Leave him alone—”
“You,” he growled, jabbing a finger at you, “shut up and get in the room.”
You dug your heels in, like always. He didn’t give you a chance to run your mouth. He grabbed you by the arm and steered you down the hall, ignoring the eyes that followed.
“You’re fucking fired,” he barked to the guard over his shoulder. “Get out of my sight.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Go.”
He slammed the door once you were inside, breath ragged, blood hot. He hadn’t even realized how angry he was until now. Until you looked at him like he was the one out of line.
“What is the matter with you?” You asked.
“Me? What the hell is the matter with you?” he spat.
Your voice cracked open. “I can’t believe you’re the one screaming right now. You left me here all night!”
“I told you I had to talk to some people—”
“All night?” Your voice was going sharp, incredulous. “It’s like you didn’t even consider the fact that you said you’d…”
You stopped. Your eyes changed—narrowed. Realization flickered across your face like a light coming on in a dark room. And that’s when he knew that you had connected the dots.
The silence was louder than the yelling had been.
“What?” he asked. He tried to sound unfazed, but his chest was tight.
“Did you make your point?” You asked.
He shrugged. “Do you feel like shit?”
You blinked. Swallowed.
“Yep.”
“Then I guess I made my point.” The words tasted sour. Even as he said them, he hated himself for it. But he couldn’t back down now. If he did, you’d know you still had him wrapped around your little finger.
“I want to leave,” you said.
“You can’t.”
“…Then you leave.”
“I will, if you really want me to.”
“I really want you to.”
“Okay.”
He turned, every step stiff. Mechanical. He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to see it—that look on your face when you realized he wasn’t bluffing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted you to stop him or let him go.
“I want you to know…” You started.
He paused at the door and looked at you, jaw tight.
“…I’ve never set out to intentionally hurt you. Ever. That’s not what I do, and it’s not something I tolerate from anyone—not even you. So…I hope you’re happy knowing that if you never see me again after tonight, it’s your fault.”
His pulse thudded in his ears.
“Is that all?”
You were quiet for a second too long. Then:
“…Good night, Elvis.”
He didn’t say it back. He opened the door.
“Will you be here tomorrow?”
Your voice was ice. “Only if I’m cold and stiff.”
That hit harder than it should’ve.
He hesitated.
“I guess I’ll see you in a few years then.”
“Don’t count on it.”
He stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him.
And just like that—it was quiet again.
No shouting. No performance. Just silence.
The click of the door closing echoed down the corridor like a slap. The kind that burns after it lands.
He stalled in the hallway, eyes closed.
What the hell had he done?
He tried to tell himself it was a part of his strategy. That he needed to prove something and this was a part of the plan.
You needed to feel it—you had to know what it felt like to be kept waiting. What it felt like to be made small.
To be nothing in someone else's world.
But the truth was…he didn’t feel any better.
He felt fucking sick.
He’d left you alone. On purpose. Set a trap just to see if you’d stay. And when you did, when you waited like he always hoped you would, he still made you pay.
He thought it’d feel like a win.
Instead, it felt like watching you fly off all over again—except this time, he was the one who scared you off by trying to clip your wings.
And maybe that was worse.
No, it was worse.
He’d understand if you were gone tomorrow, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself after what he’d done.
*
You loved him. That should’ve been enough. You were some version of his—a version he was still trying to understand.
It was supposed to bring him some peace knowing that you were settling in nicely in LA. You were safe and you loved him. That should’ve been enough. But it didn’t feel like enough when he’d go days, then weeks, then months without hearing from you.
“Hello?”
He froze. It was your voice. After weeks of static, weeks of hearing the operator say “no response,” there you were—casual, like he hadn’t been losing sleep over the sound of silence.
“Birdie?”
“Hey, bunny. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” he barked, instantly too loud. He couldn’t help it. His chest burned. “I mean, I’d be better if you’d learn how to answer the goddamn phone!”
“Elvis…” You sighed. You didn’t even try to lie this time. “I didn’t realize you’d called.”
“How is that possible?”
“I’m sorry if I haven’t been glued to the phone—”
“You haven’t been glued to that house either if you ain’t gettin’ my calls. I been calling for weeks—”
“I’m gonna hang up—”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I will if you keep badgering me. Jesus Christ, who are you right now? You don’t tell me what to do.”
He pressed his fingers into his temple, trying to settle his voice, trying to sound like he had control over this.
“Like I said,” you repeated calmly, “I didn’t get your call.”
“Calls. There were multiple.”
“I didn’t get them.”
“…Why do you sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Were you asleep?”
“So what if I was?”
“It’s the middle of the goddamn day. What’d you do last night?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t—” his voice cracked with panic but he hoped you didn’t catch it.
“You’re a suffocating man, Elvis Presley. You’re a million miles away and somehow I still can’t breathe. And you wonder why I leave the phone off the hook?”
“You leave it off the hook?” he asked, stunned. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I’m done.”
“Don’t hang up—”
“If you want it to go like this, it can go like this. It’s up to you.”
“I just wanna hear from you during the week. Is that a goddamn crime?”
“You’re not checking in on me. You’re checking to see if I’m still here. It’s obvious. Every conversation feels like an audit.”
“…I can’t help but worry.”
“I’m not going anywhere. And nothing you send is gonna make me stay, so stop with the gifts. I don’t do anything with half the shit. It just sits in my way.”
“I want you to have what you need.”
“You’ve done more than enough.”
There was a long, quiet ache in the line. He didn’t know what to say. He thought giving you everything would make you stay.
“I’m not doing the silence, Elvis,” you warned.
“Fuck,” he snapped, slamming his fist against his desk, frustration boiling in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to stop—”
“Fine! I’m done. If you wanna hear from me again, you can pick up the goddamn phone and call—”
“That’s not what I want!”
“Of course it’s not! You’re a fucking crazy person!”
“Stop screaming!”
He huffed in aggravation.
“I want to have normal conversations when we talk,” you said. “And I don’t want to feel like you’re trying to buy my attention.”
“All I can do is buy your attention when I’m all the way over here and you’re in L.A. having a ball.”
“Why do you think you get to sleep with whoever you want but I don’t?”
“I don’t screw around for the same reasons you do.”
“Oh my god.” Now you were pissed. “You’re genuinely fucking stupid if you think that.”
“Don’t call me fucking stupid. You’re fucking stupid. You sound like a fucking baby.”
“Fucking, fucking, fucking,” you mocked. “That’s your favorite word—”
“Yeah, and it’s what you go around doing from sunup to sundown.”
“You would love to think that, wouldn’t you, baby?”
“I wouldn’t screw around if I didn’t think you were doing the same thing.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
A beat. The tension rippled.
“You know what, Elvis? If you don’t screw around on me, I won’t screw around on you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m not a sex fiend. So it’ll be real easy for me.”
“You say that like I am.”
“Well…”
“I’m not a sex fiend—”
“If you can manage not to fuck a single person until the next time we see each other, I’ll do the same.”
“You won’t screw around?”
“Not if you won’t.”
Silence again. But not the painful kind.
“…You’re on,” he said.
And you both sat there, phones hot against your ears, tethered to each other—not just by love. Not just by promises.
But by the need to win.
*
1968…
He wasn’t thinking clearly—he couldn’t think clearly.
He was too blinded by his rage.
“I want you gone when I get back.” He didn’t mean that. Of course he didn’t. “I don’t care where you go—go to hell. Actually, no, go home with fucking Robbie. Do you want to go home with fucking Robbie?”
When he left the room he slammed the door so hard the house seemed to flinch. His blood was still boiling, his lungs tight. He couldn’t catch his breath.
The weight of what had just happened didn’t wait to crash into him—it hit like a ton of bricks.
Your voice replayed in his mind—begging him to stop. He remembered the sound of the hammer clicking into place, your eyes wide with something beyond fear. The ringing in his ears after the shot.
He wanted to feel remorse, instead he felt like the matter was still unresolved.
He wanted answers.
He stalked to the end of the hallway, fists clenched at his sides, vision blurred.
“Elvis—”
He saw Jerry, halfway up the stairs, breathless.
“You alright?” Jerry asked. “What the hell was that?”
“It’s fine.”
“Was that a gunshot?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
Jerry blinked. “I heard a gun—”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Elvis didn’t answer. He was staring past him, back toward his bedroom door. His breathing was slowing but the tension hadn’t left his jaw.
“She won’t tell me the truth,” he finally said. “So you go in there and ask her what the hell she was doing. Ask her what the hell she’s been doing with Robbie and for how long.”
“Elvis, come on—”
“Go,” he barked, stepping forward. “She’ll tell you.”
Jerry didn’t move at first. Then, reluctantly, he nodded and slipped down the hall. Elvis watched the door open, watched it close, and then he went to sit on the stairs.
He shut his eyes.
The image in his head wouldn’t stop playing.
You.
Your shoulder brushing Robbie’s.
You laughing at something he said.
You leaning in close.
And then you both disappearing into the kitchen.
It was a while before Jerry came back out. Elvis stood the second he heard the door open.
“She says nothing happened.”
“Don’t tell me you believe her.”
Jerry didn’t answer that. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “She’s not okay.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Elvis muttered.
“No. I mean—she’s really not okay.” Jerry met his eyes. “She said she wanted people to think you killed her. Then she just laid down on the floor and stared at herself in my shoes—in the leather. She kept saying she liked them and then she asked me to give her one.”
Elvis shook his head. “She’s just playing the victim.”
Jerry stepped closer. “You pulled a gun on her, man.”
“I didn’t touch her—”
“You pulled a gun on her,” Jerry repeated. “Whatever damage you meant to do, I think you did it.”
He walked past Elvis like he didn’t want to look him in the eye anymore.
“You need to apologize.”
Elvis waited until the house was quiet. The guests were gone. Jerry had disappeared. He stood alone in the foyer, staring at the front door like it might offer a way out of the shame crawling up his back.
He didn’t go back upstairs.
Instead, he went out.
The boutique on Melrose was just opening for the day. The one you used to point at as he drove by, the one you never asked him to stop at because you didn’t want to seem like you wanted anything from him.
He bought the shiniest shoes they had.
Silver. Patent leather. Anything cut low with a delicate strap and a dangerous heel.
They tied each box with a gold ribbon. He didn’t ask for the ribbon—they just gave it to him like it was part of the apology.
When he returned, the hallway was dark, the bedroom door still shut. He carried the boxes in himself and set them down carefully, like placing flowers at a grave.
They wouldn’t fix anything.
But maybe—just maybe—they’d soften the blow of what he’d done.
*
He was still buzzing with energy from the show. There was an excitement in the air that he couldn’t think to share with anyone but you. You were there when he walked off stage, there to kiss him and tell him he did great.
“You were everything,” You had said.
He wanted to stay there in that moment with you, he wanted to run away somewhere and revel in the adrenaline but there was still work to be done.
“Let’s go, E.P., they wanna talk to ya.”
He should’ve blown them off, but he didn’t.
“I gotta let ‘em have me for a little bit but I’ll see upstairs. Find Jerry, he’ll show you how to get back from here.” Even as the words left his mouth he knew there was something off in your expression. It hadn’t changed, you were always good at putting on a brave face. But he couldn’t help but see through the cracks in your smile. “I’ll see you tonight?”
You smiled and nodded but you didn’t say a word. You couldn’t, because then he’d hear it.
He should’ve said something else, instead he glanced you over once more—doing that thing he’d do where he tried to memorize every curve of your expression before you disappeared again—then he turned and followed his crew.
When he looked back you weren’t even standing there anymore. Like you were a figment.
He couldn’t focus on his interviews, he stumbled over his words and lost his train of thought—his brain was completely clogged with the thought of you leaving.
He kept telling himself that you’d be upstairs, but his gut told him otherwise.
He didn’t bother turning on the lights when he got to his room. He just sunk down onto the sofa and stared at the blank television set. He didn’t have to look around to see that you weren’t there.
When the door opened there was a moment when he thought it could possibly be you, but that hope fizzled instantly.
“What Jerry?”
“E…”
Elvis sighed. “You don’t have to say it. She’s gone, I know.”
Jerry’s silence caused him to turn his head and for the first time he saw his expression.
“Jerry, man, what’s going on?”
“I-I…Calvin was d-driving her to the airport and he…t-there was an accident—“
“What?”
“He called—“
“Are they alright—where is she?”
“…You gotta get to the hospital right now.”
There were so many things he would’ve done differently. So many things he wouldn’t have said, things he would’ve said more. But none of that mattered, because now it was too late.
He didn’t remember getting there. Didn’t remember the lights or the questions or the way people moved out of his way like they could see it on his face, like they knew.
Calvin was sitting in the waiting room, blood on his shirt, eyes red and swollen.
“I tried, boss,” he said hoarsely. “I swerved out of the way. I swear I swerved—”
Elvis barely heard him. “Where is she?” he asked.
“They—they took her back. They tried everything. She was still breathing when they pulled her out. But—” Calvin broke off, sobbing.
Elvis didn’t wait. He pushed through the doors.
They let him in.
And he instantly wished they hadn’t.
You were there. So still. Too still. Tubes and wires where there shouldn’t have been. A bruise blooming across your temple. Lips parted just slightly, like you were sleeping.
He couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t want to.
It wasn’t grief at first. It was something deeper. Colder. Like his soul had been vacuumed out and all that was left was the shell of a man who loved you more than life.
He stayed with you. For hours. Holding your hand long after it had gone cold.
“Elvis…come on. You gotta let go now.”
“No—“
“You have to.”
He made the arrangements. Paid for everything. Picked the flowers himself, the music, the clothes they’d dress you in. He talked to people he hadn’t seen in years just to make sure the funeral was perfect.
It was all he could do.
And people came. So many people. More than he expected. Men and women and old friends and strangers who stood up and told stories about how you changed their lives. Little things. Big things. A kindness here. A conversation there. It was all proof you had existed. That you were real.
But none of it brought you back.
Afterward, Elvis didn’t slow down. If anything, he sped up. He threw himself into performing. Rehearsals, lights, crowds that roared like they knew who he was.
But he didn’t.
Life became a blur of sweat and sequins. He laughed when he was supposed to, sang like it didn’t hurt. But inside, there was nothing left.
He faded.
Slowly, and then all at once.
.𝒻𝒾𝓃.
WC:6k
Warning: 18+, vampire!elvis, smut, fluff, yandere reader, feeding, blood, death/murder, no major character death, temptation, it’s the 50s/60s/70s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: vampire!elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: inaccurate depictions of Graceland
Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed ♡
***
He wanted you to be afraid, but you weren’t. He wanted the look in your eyes to be one of terror, instead he found love—admiration even.
“This doesn’t scare you?”
“No.”
It was true. You may have been afraid if you thought he were anything like the others. However his soft features and his gentle smile reminded you otherwise.
His teeth glistened with venom and his mouth watered as he warded off the urge to suck you dry—a sensation he hadn’t had to fight so intensely in years. There was a lingering tenderness in the way he carried himself despite his stature and ability.
When he abandoned society a decade ago, he thought he was doing the right thing. The years he would go on to spend locked away in Graceland were meant to make up for his time spent terrorizing the world with the rest of his kind. He was lucky to be one of those who came to their senses early in their existence. He didn’t have centuries of regret to live with yet.
“I can be scary,” He warned.
“I know.”
You were too young to remember what it was like before they came to Memphis, so was he. You walked around at night the same as everyone else in town.
Afraid and unable to pick them out from the bunch.
Once upon a time, Elvis was also afraid. Before he was turned and before you were stripped of the cloak of invincibility that was his love.
He was the only thing that made you feel safe in the world then. Now, he wanted you to fear his very existence.
“What is this place?”
He didn’t answer.
“Is this where you hide?”
He shrugged. You were getting somewhere.
“It’s a nice hiding spot.”
“Your mom~”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I killed her.”
You sighed, forced to face the reality that the love of your life was responsible for killing your mother. Your father would never forgive you if he saw you now. “I remember.”
He came closer and you thought you’d faint. It was like standing before a beautiful corpse.
“It was an accident.”
“I wanted to kill you too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He looked frozen. The Elvis you knew was never so still. “I couldn’t have lived with it.”
“Could you live with it now?”
“I think so.”
“…How?”
“I’m older now.” He grabbed your jaw and forced your head back, exposing your pulse. His grip was light and feathery when he led you upstairs moments ago, so when his touch made you wince it had to be intentional. “Colder.”
“N-No~”
“Every second I’m near you I’m holding myself back.”
“If you wanted to you would’ve already.” You sounded so sure. “You’re good. You wouldn’t live like this if you weren’t. You’re gentle.”
He didn’t want to hear any of those things. In fact, he was so disgusted by the word ‘gentle’ that he had to stepped away.
“Elvis~”
“You really shouldn’t even be here.”
“You don’t understand what I had to do to get here.”
Your heart pounded loudly, you were sure he could hear it too. You tried not to cry, but the certainty that had carried you through the last ten years was slipping away. After everything, after all the nights spent tracing his footsteps, you weren’t even sure if the person you loved still existed beneath the portrait of the man before you.
He was suddenly close to you again. His touch was gentle when he grabbed your face but you still winced. He pretended to be confused. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.” You didn’t have to look to see his satisfaction, it practically radiated off his skin. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”
“What?”
“This.”
“Oh?” He was intrigued. His features were so immaculate that you noticed every change in his expression. You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or if he was just pretty. “What kinda fairytale you got built up in this pretty little head of yours?”
“It’s not a fairytale.”
“It’s not?”
“I-I love you. All this time I thought that if I found you…I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“No, I’m happy to see you.” He pulled your body against his and put his nose in the crook of your neck—you shivered against him. “I’m so happy to see you.”
You started to panic when you felt his lips against your skin and you pushed him away. You didn’t expect him to budge, but he did.
“I know you remember,” You said. “The change doesn’t make you forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Us…” Your throat hurt from holding back tears but you forced yourself to speak despite feeling like he didn’t care. “I still love you. Can you believe that?”
“You love me for who I was. I think you’d hate me for who I am.”
“Who are you to decide that?”
His eyes darkened, hollow and distant, like something precious had been scraped out of him.
He looked like a stranger.
A frozen, corpse-like thing wearing the face of the boy you loved. You searched for him in the sharp angles of his cheekbones, in the perfect curvature of his lips, in the unnatural stillness of his body—but he wasn’t there. Not really.
Only when he smiled did he start to resemble the boy you knew, and even then, it was just a ghost of him, a cruel echo of warmth long extinguished.
“Are you really that cold?” You whispered, your voice barely more than breath.
It wasn’t just the temperature of his skin you meant. It was everything—his silence, his stillness, the unbearable distance between what he had been and what he was now. You needed him to say something—anything. Even if all he could do was break your heart. Even if he shattered you.
But he just stood there. Silent. Unmoving. As if the words you bled for meant nothing. As if he wasn’t yours anymore.
Your trembling fingers reached for him, desperate to feel something real beneath them. You brushed his cheek, but it wasn’t flesh that met your touch—it was ice, smooth and unforgiving, like porcelain left too long in the cold. No breath, no warmth. Nothing.
“Elvis?” His name was barely a whisper, barely a prayer. A desperate plea to whatever part of him was still there—buried beneath the monster.
But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
You wanted to believe he was still in there. That if you spoke his name enough times, he’d come back to you—he’d step into the sun and melt back into himself again.
But all you could do was stand there, staring into the abyss of him, wondering if he had already been lost.
You didn’t know if a man of his stature could produce such a gentle sound, but you thought you heard him whisper—
“It hurts.”
You found yourself matching his tone. “What hurts?”
“Being close to you,” He said. “It hurts so much.”
You realized then that he wasn’t clenching his teeth to intimidate you—he was in pain. “Even if I wanted you here…I came here to get away from it. The blood.”
He looked troubled and you felt bad for causing such perfect features to contort in such a pitiful way.
“You can’t be here.” His body betrayed his own words by pulling you closer, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as if he was hiding from what he was about to do. “You don’t know what it turns us into.”
You felt his breath hitch against your skin, heard the quiet, almost imperceptible sound of his self-control fraying. He inhaled.
“W-What if…what if I were like you?”
He laughed softly, but there was no joy in it. It was dark and broken. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m here for you.”
His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw how dizzy he was with desire. The blackness of his pupils swallowed his irises, leaving only hunger in its wake. His body was wound tight, his every movement slow, careful, calculated.
It was taking everything in him not to tear you apart.
“I’m hurting you,” You said, more alarmed now. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
His cold thumbs ghosted over the heat of your cheeks, his gaze drinking you in like he was memorizing you, like he already knew this was the last time he’d ever touch you like this.
“You’re so warm,” He whispered, reverent. “So beautiful.”
And then he kissed you.
For a second, it was just you and him. Just the way it used to be, the way it was always supposed to be. The world melted away, and you leaned into him, desperate to keep that feeling, desperate to make it real. But as soon as he pulled away, it was gone, and the ache of reality came crashing down on you.
“Please,” You begged, your voice shaking. “I’ll do anything~”
“Don’t say that,” He rasped.
“I’ll do anything to be with you.”
You moved toward the bed, not even questioning why it was there, only knowing you needed to feel close to him again, needed to remind him of who you were, of who he was, before it was too late. And despite himself, he followed. Or maybe he was just following the warmth of your skin, the pulse beneath your flesh that called to him like a siren’s song.
You straddled him, just like you used to, but everything was different. His body wasn’t warm, wasn’t soft—he was hard and frozen beneath your touch, his fingers gripping your waist too tight, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him from tearing you apart.
“Don’t be scared,” You whispered.
But it wasn’t him who should have been afraid.
“You don’t understand,” He said, his voice not quite his own anymore. His hands flexed, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. “I can’t help it.”
You parted your lips to speak, but the moment was gone. The kiss you thought was tender turned into something else entirely, something sharp and all-consuming.
Pain.
You gasped, but he didn’t stop. His arms wrapped around you, holding you in place as his teeth sank deeper.
You shuddered, fingers tangling in his hair, clinging to him even as the world tilted and your vision blurred. He was shaking against you, a low, wrecked sound slipping from his throat, like he was breaking apart even as he devoured you.
He hadn’t fed in years. You realized that too late.
He wasn’t stopping.
And still, you held him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks, because if this was how it had to end, you would rather die in his arms than live without him.
You felt him falter, felt the moment he realized—the way he wrenched back with a ragged, choked gasp, his lips stained with you, his eyes wild with horror.
He wasn’t satisfied—he despised the feeling. He needed more and there was a moment where he contemplated going out to satisfy the urge. However, the sound of your heart barely beating was more of a pressing concern.
“No—no, no, no,” He whispered, voice cracking, hands desperate as they pressed against the wound he’d made. “I—baby, I didn’t mean to~”
“Elvis,” You breathed. His name. Only this time, it wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t desperation or fear. It was awe.
Because he was warm.
Your fingers moved before you could think, reaching for him, needing to feel it, to prove it. He didn’t stop you. He just sat there, silently watching your expression soften as your palm pressed against the impossible heat of his skin.
He was alive.
“How?” You whispered, barely daring to believe it.
His eyes never left yours, but there was no joy in them, no relief. Just something hollow, something resigned.
“It’s what happens when we feed.”
The words settled over you like a stone sinking into deep water, slow and heavy.
You had fought so hard to stay awake, to hold onto him for as long as you could, but your eyelids were growing heavier, the edges of your vision dimming. Still, you refused to close your eyes. You were too afraid that if you did, he’d be gone again.
“There you are,” You whispered, your voice thick with delirium, with love. A soft, breathless smile played on your lips. “I knew I’d find you.”
“…Is this how you want me?” He asked, quiet, careful.
Your lips parted to say No, even as your heart shouted Yes. Yes, like this. Warm, human, mine.
But then, a betrayal. The smallest thing. The sharp, stuttering lurch of your pulse.
His face twisted, and you knew—before you even spoke, before the lie could leave your lips—he had already heard the truth in your wavering heartbeat.
“No,” You said anyway.
For a long moment, he just stared at you. His expression unreadable and his silence unbearable before he stood from his bed.
He stepped back.
Farther.
Farther.
Until he was just a blur at the edges of your failing vision, slipping away into the dark like he was never there at all.
“Elvis,” You tried to call out, but your voice was too weak now, your body too heavy, too tired.
The last thing you saw was his face—his human face—twisted in something like grief. Like rejection. Like heartbreak.
And then the darkness took you.
***
“Elvis?”
“How do you feel?”
“Okay.”
He didn’t step into light. He stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching.
“Did it work?” You didn’t feel any different.
“Your father’s worried about you.”
“You spoke to my father?”
“He’s posting pictures around town.”
You moved into a sitting position. “Did you speak to him?”
No response.
“Why are you standing over there?”
“You don’t want to see me.”
“Why?”
“It’s been days.”
You were more confused than shocked. “So?”
“He’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Your Elvis,” He muttered.
You remembered his expression from before and you were reminded of how your words had hurt him.
“Elvis~”
“There is no Elvis.”
“Don’t say that~”
“He’s dead.”
You bit your lip to hide the way it wobbled as you were suddenly holding back tears.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” You stressed.
“You didn’t.” It was an obvious lie. “Nothing happened that I didn’t I already expect.”
“I was in shock.”
“You should go…there’s nothing for you here.”
“There’s nothing for me out there.”
“Your father loves you. Your sister has been out looking for you every night until curfew. She’s checking ditches. Your little baby sister, looking for your body on the side of the road~”
“They don’t need me.”
“I don’t need you either.”
Despite it being the truth, it struck a nerve.
“I want to stay here. I want to be with you.”
“The way you looked at me before…” His dead eyes met yours and from the shadows they looked hollow. “You’ll never look at me that way.”
You couldn’t deny the fact that he had felt more familiar when his eyes were baby blue and his cheeks were flushed in their usual way. In the days that you were unconscious, he had completely faded back into the colorless creature you had encountered upon your arrival. His eyes were back to a shade of blue so pale they looked white and his skin was ice cold.
“I never thought I’d see you that way again,” You admitted. “T-The way I remembered you, I mean. But, baby, I want you anyway I can have you, that’s why I’m here. It’s why I’ve spent all these years trying to find you. I don’t care what you are, it doesn’t change anything for me. It scares me…but losing you scares me so much more.”
You expected to feel more unsteady when you stood but you felt strong. He was instantly there to help you balance, even though you didn’t need him to. He looked as though he was fighting the urge to duck back into the shadows.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” You reassured him. He met your eyes and you smiled. “You’re beautiful this way. You really are.”
He shook his head but you disregarded his denial. He had to know he that his beauty was unmatched.
“Are we the same?”
“No.”
You couldn’t hide your disappointment.
“You should be happy.”
“Why?”
“You aren’t a monster.”
You didn’t try to convince him that he wasn’t a monster. You knew that you couldn’t. Only he knew of the life he lead before coming to Graceland—only he knew of what chaos and destruction he could give rise to.
For ten years, you had hunted him through the shadows, following whispers, chasing nightmares, aching for the impossible. And now, here he stood—unchanged, untouched by time.
You weren’t afraid of his past, of the horror stories told to you along your pursuit. Fear had died in you long ago. At least you thought it had died. Really it’s only been buried beneath the weight of longing—waiting to be reignited by his rejection.
You’d do anything for him but he wasn’t letting you. It didn’t make sense in your mind.
What was a little more darkness when all you had ever wanted was him? To love him. To be his. By any means necessary. Even if it meant offering up your own trembling pulse.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” You said.
“Then we want the same thing.”
You sunk down onto the bed, suddenly in actual need of his assistance.
“You don’t want me…” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking, you were trying to process.
“I can’t change what I am,” He said.
“I can,” You insisted, meeting his eyes with tears in your own. “I’ll change.”
He moved to sit down next to you on the bed. His careful demeanor and perfect posture made the position look unnatural but he wasn’t grimacing like he had been before.
“You aren’t in pain,” You pointed out.
“It won’t start hurting again for days. You’ll be long gone by then.”
“How many days?”
“It depends…” He seemed confused by your inquiries.
“On what?”
“Why?”
You didn’t know how to pose the offer—you had never considered offering yourself up as willing prey to a bloodthirsty vampire before.
“Use me,” You blurted out.
“For what?”
“To keep the pain away.”
He was there one second and gone the next, right before your eyes. You stood and searched for him in a frenzy, thinking that he left you alone. After the disorientation had worn off, you found him back in his corner.
“Elvis~”
“You have to leave.”
“No~”
“While I’m still in the right mind to tell you to go, can you please fucking go!”
You didn’t want to upset him. He was stronger and more capable than you without being pissed off and pushed to his limit.
“I need you,” You continued through your tears. “I-If I can’t be here with you then you might as well kill me anyway.”
“Go home.”
“You are my home.“
“…Why are you doing this?”
“I love you.”
“If you loved me, you’d leave.”
“If you loved me, you’d let me stay.”
“You have no idea what you’re suggesting. There are people that’d crucify me if they ever found out.”
“No one would ever know.”
“They’ll find out.”
“How?”
He didn’t respond.
“It’s fair that way,” You said. “I’ll still be human, you won’t be in pain and we’ll be together—we both win.”
“No one wins~”
“We can be together. Don’t you want that?”
Silence.
“Say something.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“That you love me and want to be with me. Unless you don’t, then say that.”
Nothing.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes. That’s why I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You aren’t asking. It’s what I want.”
He analyzed your expression.
“It’s me,” You said. “You know me.”
You slowly started to see his mind change. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“You stopped last time.”
“Because I thought I killed you.”
“You don’t want to kill me?”
“No.”
“Then don’t kill me.”
He didn’t agree, he didn’t exactly disagree, but he didn’t send you home either.
There was hope.
As the days wore and the pain set back in little by little, the time eventually came for his next feeding.
“I don’t need to.”
“I can tell. You’re just like you were before.”
“I went ten years without feeding, I can go more than a week~”
“You don’t have to anymore, E, that’s what I’m here for.”
He paced the floor in front of you as you sat on the sofa waiting for him. You were nervous to suggest another feeding. You were only just getting to know each other again. That on top of fixing up Graceland into a place suitable for the living had left little room to discuss a proper feeding schedule.
“Don’t call it that,” He griped. “It’s belittling.”
You bit back a smile.
“What could you possibly find funny about this situation?”
“You weren’t this grumpy before.”
“I have a lot to be grumpy about.”
You laughed. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you eat enough earlier?”
“I think so.”
“Water?”
You nodded. “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He was still pacing.
“Elvis.”
“Hm?”
“Come here.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how I’d feel if you died in my arms.”
“That’s not going to happen. Will you come here, please?”
He was there. Sitting next to you the couch, head thrown back with an expression of distant dread.
You shifted towards him and let your fingers run through his sandy locks. “It’s okay.”
“What do I do?”
Although you’d never done it before, you felt comfortable leading the way.
“We can ease into like before,” You said.
“Okay.”
You straddled him, pressing your body flush against his, and he let out a slow, shuddering breath. He was addicted to your warmth, starved for it, craving the heat that pulsed beneath your skin. Every day that passed without feeding made it harder to hold you like this—to touch you without trembling, to want you without needing you.
“Kiss me, E.”
His jaw clenched. “I can’t.”
“I want you to try.”
Your lips brushed his and he went so still that you swore he stopped existing for a second. But then, slowly, he melted into you, into your heat. His lips were cold, but the way he kissed you was anything but. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your hips like he needed to remind himself that you were flesh and blood, not something he could devour. He was barely holding back.
“I love you,” You whispered. “I trust you.”
His flickered with something you couldn’t name. “If I go too far~”
“You won’t.”
“But if I do…” His lips hovered over your neck, a breath away from crossing the line. “I’ll save you.”
A pause. A test.
You didn’t waver. “Okay.”
***
You woke up to find that Elvis had figured out how to connect the IV that he’d stolen from the hospital. You didn’t think you needed it, but it no doubt cut down your recovery time.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I can’t believe it.” There was something enthralling about the whole situation. It felt like getting away with murder.
“Only you’d smile after a night of being fed on by a vampire,” He said with an edge of distaste for your rush of adrenaline.
“Not just any old vampire.” He laughed and you were proud of yourself. “I love you, E. I loved you before all of this.”
“I loved you too.”
“I want to be with you forever.”
“You can be.”
“Not my kind of forever. Yours.”
“I thought you didn’t care about that.”
“I don’t. I care about getting old and dying in a few years. My lifespan is just a blink of an eye in your existence, you told me that.”
“So?”
“I want more than that.”
“You always want more.” He left you lying on the couch.
“Elvis?” You forced yourself into a sitting position. “Come back. You can’t just flash away whenever we’re talking, it’s not fair.”
The house was still and silent. You felt alone.
“I wasn’t insisting, I thought we could talk about it. That’s all.”
Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” You said. “I won’t bring it up again…I swear.”
“Is this really what you want?”
You couldn’t tell where his voice was resonating from but you stood to try and follow it. “Where are you?”
“It’s like living in a shell of your own body. The only time you feel anything is when you feed.”
“That’s not true. You feel things when you’re with me. We feel things.”
He was silent again and you stopped in your tracks on your way to the stairs.
“Where are you?” You called.
“If I turn you, you’ll leave.”
“Of course not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“What can I do to make you believe me?” You sighed softly at the silence and continued up the stairs. “Does this mean you’re going to leave me alone all night?”
You went to his room, no longer looking for anything but a place to sleep.
You found him in his bed with his back to the door that you were coming in. You smiled softly, relieved that he was there. You climbed into bed and he turned to embrace you. He was warm and although you knew it’d wear off eventually, you soaked it in while it lasted.
***
Elvis watched you extra carefully while you slept. It wasn’t unusual for him to watch and listen as he waited for you to come back. Tonight, however, there was a somberness that he couldn’t understand. Only when he approached you and prepared to perform the act did he realize why he’d felt so wistful.
Not only would he miss your warmth, he’d miss the sound of your heartbeat. It was steady now. Slow and relaxed as you slept. You were completely unsuspecting.
He pressed the back of his hand to your cheek, his touch featherlight, as if savoring the warmth that still clung to you. You stirred, just barely, your breath a soft whisper against his skin.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice breaking. “I wish I weren’t so selfish.”
His fingers trembled as they traced the shape of your lips—lips that had kissed him so fearlessly, so full of trust. And then, with the same hand that had loved you so gently, he covered your mouth. Blocked your nose.
Your body tensed, confused at first, then desperate. He pressed his other hand over your eyes, not strong enough to face them when they opened in fear. He could feel the fight in you, the instinct to live, but he held firm, whispering broken apologies against your temple as your strength waned.
Your heartbeat, once steady and strong, began to stutter. He felt each frantic thud against his chest like a plea, a protest. And then—silence. A final, fragile beat before you slipped into nothing.
If he had a heart, it would have shattered. But instead of pain, he felt the cruel, electric rush of your life flooding into him, warming his cold, cursed body as yours went still.
He slowly uncovered your face. You looked peaceful—like you were still resting, like you might wake up any second and scold him for this unforgivable sin. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering against the fading warmth.
“It’s okay, baby,” He whispered, cradling you against him. “I’ll save you.”
***
“What?”
“Go.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re free.”
The words barely registered before Elvis was shoving you toward the door, his touch fleeting, as though he couldn’t bear to hold on for too long. You searched his face for something—hesitation, regret—but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He only stared past you, jaw clenched, voice distant.
“No one locked me up when I was a newborn,” He said, almost to himself. “You deserve to be free, too.”
You knew it was a test, but you took it as an opportunity.
Freedom was intoxicating, a rush so pure it almost felt like love—but not quite. Because nothing, nothing compared to the pull that brought you back.
It wasn’t long that you were gone. You never meant for it to be.
“You came back.”
“Of course I did.”
He watched you carefully, suspicion creeping into the edges of his expression.
“What are you doing?”
“What?”
“Who…what are you doing with her?”
A slow smile unfurled across your lips as the woman thrashed weakly in your grasp, her pulse hammering beneath your fingers.
“I brought her for us.”
His expression darkened. Disappointed. “You fed.”
“I thought we could do her together.”
You snapped her neck in one swift, merciless movement, paralyzing her but leaving her awake—aware.
She screamed.
Elvis didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“Go ahead, E.” You lifted her trembling arm to him like an offering, voice a velvet whisper. “You first.”
His hands curled into fists. “Why would you do this?”
You knelt beside the woman and met his eyes, gaze steady, unyielding. “Because I know you.”
A pause. A breath. The air between you thickened, heavy with something unspeakable.
“You’re an indulger,” You murmured, voice dripping with promise. “So am I. We’re the same.”
His breathing shallowed as he watched you sink your teeth into her skin, the sharp, wet sound of flesh yielding beneath hunger filling the silence. You moaned at the taste, the warmth spilling down your throat, lighting you up from the inside out.
When you looked up, his horror had softened—just barely.
Curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Temptation.
He inched closer, drawn in despite himself, and you seized the moment. Grabbing his wrist, you pressed his palm against your cheek, letting him feel the heat that pulsed beneath your skin.
“You’re warm again,” He breathed, wonder laced with something dangerously close to desire.
You leaned into his touch, eyelashes lowering just slightly. “I am.”
He swallowed hard.
You trailed his fingertips down, slow, teasing, letting him feel the way your pulse thrummed, the way your body came alive.
“Do you feel that,” You whispered, pressing his hand tighter against your skin. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“Birdie…”
“Don’t fight it,” You coaxed. “I did it for you.”
A battle raged within him, fleeting and fierce. But in the end, there was only ever one outcome.
His lips parted. His resolve fractured.
“This has to stay between us.”
Victory tasted sweeter than blood. You grinned, wicked and adoring all at once.
“My lips are sealed.”
And so it began.
Centuries passed in a symphony of dark delights, each decade a new game, a new indulgence, a new way to chase the pleasure of being alive—together.
You hunted. You ran. You lost each other, only to find one another again, over and over, drawn together like gravity.
All in the name of love.
All in the pursuit of endless nights of limitless pleasure, and boundless possibility.
***
His back was against the wall as the two of you stood in some deserted alley in Northern Italy. He looked sun kissed in the moonlight and you wondered whose blood was rushing through his veins.
His eyes flickered down to you, dark and unreadable.
“There’s nothing you can do,” He said. “I can’t change.”
“You won’t change.”
“I’m being honest~”
“Then be honest.” You tilted your chin up, eyes locking onto his. “Don’t say you can’t change. Say you won’t.”
His expression tightened. You wanted to cry, but your beautiful eyes just couldn’t.
“Don’t you love me? You said you did.”
“Because I did.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told you already.”
“Tell me again.”
His hands ghosted over your waist, almost absentmindedly, but his touch was possessive. Familiar and addictive.
“I love it more,” He finally admitted. “We all do.”
“I don’t.”
His brows lifted slightly. “You don’t?”
“No.” You pressed closer, your lips brushing against the sharp edge of his jaw. “I love you more.”
He let out a breath, his grip tightening on your waist as your hands slid up his torso, slow and deliberate.
“You didn’t listen when I said we shouldn’t feed,” He murmured. “You wanted me this way.”
“Why can’t we do it together?”
“Because…” His voice was quieter now. “I’m selfish.”
It hurt to hear him to admit that, but it only made you hold him tighter.
“It’s not enough anymore,” He continued. “Once or twice a week—it doesn’t satisfy me. I need it every day. You slow me down.”
“I can keep up.”
“No.”
“You won’t even notice me,” You insisted. “I’ll cover my own ass, E. I swear.”
His hands moved lower, gripping your hips now, but his stance remained firm.
“You almost got us caught at the blood bank.”
“It’ll never happen again.”
He still wasn’t budging. His body was, though—you could feel the way he was responding to you, the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers twitched against your skin like he wanted to grab you, pin you, and ruin you.
So you played your trump card.
“I’ll make sure we get it every day.” Your voice dropped into something silkier, something sinful, as your arms slid around his neck. Your body molded to his, hips pressing against him just enough to make his breath catch. “Don’t I always make sure we’re okay?”
Elvis might’ve been a vampire, but he was still only a man. And if it wasn’t you that came second to blood, then you were glad it was something you could do for him.
His resolve was slipping. You could feel it. So you leaned in, lips ghosting over his, your voice barely more than a breath—
“I’ll take care of you like I always do,” You whispered. “I promise.”
The alley was damp with the scent of rain and cigarette smoke, but dark enough to conceal you from the public. Not that you cared about the public’s perception of you. Especially not when his hands were now pressing your back against the moist brick, his fingers firm yet careful as they pinned you down.
He always handled you this way—like he was afraid he’d break you, even now.
“You think you can keep up with me?” He asked, teasing but testing.
“Yes,” You breathed, grateful that he was showing some sign of giving in.
His fingers brushed your throat, his thumb dragging across your pulse. You knew what he was thinking. What he needed. So you tilted your head, offering yourself up without hesitation. His lips quirked, something dark flickering in his eyes.
“Sweet girl,” He murmured, before capturing your lips in a slow, devastating kiss. You clung to him, fingers threading through his hair as he deepened it. His thigh slipped between yours, pressing just enough to make you whimper against his lips.
“Elvis~”
“It’s okay, baby,” He soothed, dragging his lips down to your jaw, to your throat. “I’m right here.”
You were dizzy with want as his teeth grazed your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. His grip tightened at your waist, his free hand sliding up your thigh beneath your dress, fingers tracing over your bare heat. He touched you in such a familiar way, practiced and so effortlessly mind-numbing.
Then he bit down.
The pain was sharp, bright for only a moment before pleasure crashed through you like a slow, decadent wave. His mouth was hot, greedy as he drank from you, his tongue laving over the punctures. Although he savored every moment, there was still something about it that wasn’t quite you.
You trembled at the euphoric sensation of being fed from as he pushed you over the edge.
“Take it,” You whimpered softly. “Take it from me.”
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, barely holding yourself up as the tension released low in your belly. His body pressed you into the wall, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You felt worshiped and ruined all at once.
When he pulled back, his lips were stained red, his pupils blown wide. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in a way that made you want him more.
“See, baby?” You whispered, voice thick with satisfaction. “We were made for each other.”
And, God help him, he convinced himself that you were right.
@ssinnerplazahotel I was so excited to dive into another of your Elvis fics, I failed to realize you'd mentioned it was Birdie. Bc her name isn't mentioned until much later in the fic, I was thinking "Wow, this is so Elvis x Bridie coded"!! 😂
This AU is literally so perfect for them tho! The last scene in Italy as he's trying to explain how his hunger is greater than hers, only for her to say she can keep up!!! I'm feral for their toxic dynamic in all AUs. I love your writing so much 😍 (In fact, I was just telling another moot about your incredible fics today!)
@mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal Check this out! It's amazing 🤩
Still figuring out reblogs—haha 😅
I’m so happy you’re reading! Yes, I can’t help but write Birdie and E. I love them so much. Writing toxic romance is kind of like my guilty pleasure—it’s so intoxicating! Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to recommend. I’m glad you enjoyed!! ❤️🩷
WC:6k
Warning: 18+, vampire!elvis, smut, fluff, yandere reader, feeding, blood, death/murder, no major character death, temptation, it’s the 50s/60s/70s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: vampire!elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: inaccurate depictions of Graceland
Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed ♡
***
He wanted you to be afraid, but you weren’t. He wanted the look in your eyes to be one of terror, instead he found love—admiration even.
“This doesn’t scare you?”
“No.”
It was true. You may have been afraid if you thought he were anything like the others. However his soft features and his gentle smile reminded you otherwise.
His teeth glistened with venom and his mouth watered as he warded off the urge to suck you dry—a sensation he hadn’t had to fight so intensely in years. There was a lingering tenderness in the way he carried himself despite his stature and ability.
When he abandoned society a decade ago, he thought he was doing the right thing. The years he would go on to spend locked away in Graceland were meant to make up for his time spent terrorizing the world with the rest of his kind. He was lucky to be one of those who came to their senses early in their existence. He didn’t have centuries of regret to live with yet.
“I can be scary,” He warned.
“I know.”
You were too young to remember what it was like before they came to Memphis, so was he. You walked around at night the same as everyone else in town.
Afraid and unable to pick them out from the bunch.
Once upon a time, Elvis was also afraid. Before he was turned and before you were stripped of the cloak of invincibility that was his love.
He was the only thing that made you feel safe in the world then. Now, he wanted you to fear his very existence.
“What is this place?”
He didn’t answer.
“Is this where you hide?”
He shrugged. You were getting somewhere.
“It’s a nice hiding spot.”
“Your mom~”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I killed her.”
You sighed, forced to face the reality that the love of your life was responsible for killing your mother. Your father would never forgive you if he saw you now. “I remember.”
He came closer and you thought you’d faint. It was like standing before a beautiful corpse.
“It was an accident.”
“I wanted to kill you too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He looked frozen. The Elvis you knew was never so still. “I couldn’t have lived with it.”
“Could you live with it now?”
“I think so.”
“…How?”
“I’m older now.” He grabbed your jaw and forced your head back, exposing your pulse. His grip was light and feathery when he led you upstairs moments ago, so when his touch made you wince it had to be intentional. “Colder.”
“N-No~”
“Every second I’m near you I’m holding myself back.”
“If you wanted to you would’ve already.” You sounded so sure. “You’re good. You wouldn’t live like this if you weren’t. You’re gentle.”
He didn’t want to hear any of those things. In fact, he was so disgusted by the word ‘gentle’ that he had to stepped away.
“Elvis~”
“You really shouldn’t even be here.”
“You don’t understand what I had to do to get here.”
Your heart pounded loudly, you were sure he could hear it too. You tried not to cry, but the certainty that had carried you through the last ten years was slipping away. After everything, after all the nights spent tracing his footsteps, you weren’t even sure if the person you loved still existed beneath the portrait of the man before you.
He was suddenly close to you again. His touch was gentle when he grabbed your face but you still winced. He pretended to be confused. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.” You didn’t have to look to see his satisfaction, it practically radiated off his skin. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”
“What?”
“This.”
“Oh?” He was intrigued. His features were so immaculate that you noticed every change in his expression. You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or if he was just pretty. “What kinda fairytale you got built up in this pretty little head of yours?”
“It’s not a fairytale.”
“It’s not?”
“I-I love you. All this time I thought that if I found you…I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“No, I’m happy to see you.” He pulled your body against his and put his nose in the crook of your neck—you shivered against him. “I’m so happy to see you.”
You started to panic when you felt his lips against your skin and you pushed him away. You didn’t expect him to budge, but he did.
“I know you remember,” You said. “The change doesn’t make you forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Us…” Your throat hurt from holding back tears but you forced yourself to speak despite feeling like he didn’t care. “I still love you. Can you believe that?”
“You love me for who I was. I think you’d hate me for who I am.”
“Who are you to decide that?”
His eyes darkened, hollow and distant, like something precious had been scraped out of him.
He looked like a stranger.
A frozen, corpse-like thing wearing the face of the boy you loved. You searched for him in the sharp angles of his cheekbones, in the perfect curvature of his lips, in the unnatural stillness of his body—but he wasn’t there. Not really.
Only when he smiled did he start to resemble the boy you knew, and even then, it was just a ghost of him, a cruel echo of warmth long extinguished.
“Are you really that cold?” You whispered, your voice barely more than breath.
It wasn’t just the temperature of his skin you meant. It was everything—his silence, his stillness, the unbearable distance between what he had been and what he was now. You needed him to say something—anything. Even if all he could do was break your heart. Even if he shattered you.
But he just stood there. Silent. Unmoving. As if the words you bled for meant nothing. As if he wasn’t yours anymore.
Your trembling fingers reached for him, desperate to feel something real beneath them. You brushed his cheek, but it wasn’t flesh that met your touch—it was ice, smooth and unforgiving, like porcelain left too long in the cold. No breath, no warmth. Nothing.
“Elvis?” His name was barely a whisper, barely a prayer. A desperate plea to whatever part of him was still there—buried beneath the monster.
But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
You wanted to believe he was still in there. That if you spoke his name enough times, he’d come back to you—he’d step into the sun and melt back into himself again.
But all you could do was stand there, staring into the abyss of him, wondering if he had already been lost.
You didn’t know if a man of his stature could produce such a gentle sound, but you thought you heard him whisper—
“It hurts.”
You found yourself matching his tone. “What hurts?”
“Being close to you,” He said. “It hurts so much.”
You realized then that he wasn’t clenching his teeth to intimidate you—he was in pain. “Even if I wanted you here…I came here to get away from it. The blood.”
He looked troubled and you felt bad for causing such perfect features to contort in such a pitiful way.
“You can’t be here.” His body betrayed his own words by pulling you closer, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as if he was hiding from what he was about to do. “You don’t know what it turns us into.”
You felt his breath hitch against your skin, heard the quiet, almost imperceptible sound of his self-control fraying. He inhaled.
“W-What if…what if I were like you?”
He laughed softly, but there was no joy in it. It was dark and broken. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m here for you.”
His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw how dizzy he was with desire. The blackness of his pupils swallowed his irises, leaving only hunger in its wake. His body was wound tight, his every movement slow, careful, calculated.
It was taking everything in him not to tear you apart.
“I’m hurting you,” You said, more alarmed now. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
His cold thumbs ghosted over the heat of your cheeks, his gaze drinking you in like he was memorizing you, like he already knew this was the last time he’d ever touch you like this.
“You’re so warm,” He whispered, reverent. “So beautiful.”
And then he kissed you.
For a second, it was just you and him. Just the way it used to be, the way it was always supposed to be. The world melted away, and you leaned into him, desperate to keep that feeling, desperate to make it real. But as soon as he pulled away, it was gone, and the ache of reality came crashing down on you.
“Please,” You begged, your voice shaking. “I’ll do anything~”
“Don’t say that,” He rasped.
“I’ll do anything to be with you.”
You moved toward the bed, not even questioning why it was there, only knowing you needed to feel close to him again, needed to remind him of who you were, of who he was, before it was too late. And despite himself, he followed. Or maybe he was just following the warmth of your skin, the pulse beneath your flesh that called to him like a siren’s song.
You straddled him, just like you used to, but everything was different. His body wasn’t warm, wasn’t soft—he was hard and frozen beneath your touch, his fingers gripping your waist too tight, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him from tearing you apart.
“Don’t be scared,” You whispered.
But it wasn’t him who should have been afraid.
“You don’t understand,” He said, his voice not quite his own anymore. His hands flexed, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. “I can’t help it.”
You parted your lips to speak, but the moment was gone. The kiss you thought was tender turned into something else entirely, something sharp and all-consuming.
Pain.
You gasped, but he didn’t stop. His arms wrapped around you, holding you in place as his teeth sank deeper.
You shuddered, fingers tangling in his hair, clinging to him even as the world tilted and your vision blurred. He was shaking against you, a low, wrecked sound slipping from his throat, like he was breaking apart even as he devoured you.
He hadn’t fed in years. You realized that too late.
He wasn’t stopping.
And still, you held him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks, because if this was how it had to end, you would rather die in his arms than live without him.
You felt him falter, felt the moment he realized—the way he wrenched back with a ragged, choked gasp, his lips stained with you, his eyes wild with horror.
He wasn’t satisfied—he despised the feeling. He needed more and there was a moment where he contemplated going out to satisfy the urge. However, the sound of your heart barely beating was more of a pressing concern.
“No—no, no, no,” He whispered, voice cracking, hands desperate as they pressed against the wound he’d made. “I—baby, I didn’t mean to~”
“Elvis,” You breathed. His name. Only this time, it wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t desperation or fear. It was awe.
Because he was warm.
Your fingers moved before you could think, reaching for him, needing to feel it, to prove it. He didn’t stop you. He just sat there, silently watching your expression soften as your palm pressed against the impossible heat of his skin.
He was alive.
“How?” You whispered, barely daring to believe it.
His eyes never left yours, but there was no joy in them, no relief. Just something hollow, something resigned.
“It’s what happens when we feed.”
The words settled over you like a stone sinking into deep water, slow and heavy.
You had fought so hard to stay awake, to hold onto him for as long as you could, but your eyelids were growing heavier, the edges of your vision dimming. Still, you refused to close your eyes. You were too afraid that if you did, he’d be gone again.
“There you are,” You whispered, your voice thick with delirium, with love. A soft, breathless smile played on your lips. “I knew I’d find you.”
“…Is this how you want me?” He asked, quiet, careful.
Your lips parted to say No, even as your heart shouted Yes. Yes, like this. Warm, human, mine.
But then, a betrayal. The smallest thing. The sharp, stuttering lurch of your pulse.
His face twisted, and you knew—before you even spoke, before the lie could leave your lips—he had already heard the truth in your wavering heartbeat.
“No,” You said anyway.
For a long moment, he just stared at you. His expression unreadable and his silence unbearable before he stood from his bed.
He stepped back.
Farther.
Farther.
Until he was just a blur at the edges of your failing vision, slipping away into the dark like he was never there at all.
“Elvis,” You tried to call out, but your voice was too weak now, your body too heavy, too tired.
The last thing you saw was his face—his human face—twisted in something like grief. Like rejection. Like heartbreak.
And then the darkness took you.
***
“Elvis?”
“How do you feel?”
“Okay.”
He didn’t step into light. He stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching.
“Did it work?” You didn’t feel any different.
“Your father’s worried about you.”
“You spoke to my father?”
“He’s posting pictures around town.”
You moved into a sitting position. “Did you speak to him?”
No response.
“Why are you standing over there?”
“You don’t want to see me.”
“Why?”
“It’s been days.”
You were more confused than shocked. “So?”
“He’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Your Elvis,” He muttered.
You remembered his expression from before and you were reminded of how your words had hurt him.
“Elvis~”
“There is no Elvis.”
“Don’t say that~”
“He’s dead.”
You bit your lip to hide the way it wobbled as you were suddenly holding back tears.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” You stressed.
“You didn’t.” It was an obvious lie. “Nothing happened that I didn’t I already expect.”
“I was in shock.”
“You should go…there’s nothing for you here.”
“There’s nothing for me out there.”
“Your father loves you. Your sister has been out looking for you every night until curfew. She’s checking ditches. Your little baby sister, looking for your body on the side of the road~”
“They don’t need me.”
“I don’t need you either.”
Despite it being the truth, it struck a nerve.
“I want to stay here. I want to be with you.”
“The way you looked at me before…” His dead eyes met yours and from the shadows they looked hollow. “You’ll never look at me that way.”
You couldn’t deny the fact that he had felt more familiar when his eyes were baby blue and his cheeks were flushed in their usual way. In the days that you were unconscious, he had completely faded back into the colorless creature you had encountered upon your arrival. His eyes were back to a shade of blue so pale they looked white and his skin was ice cold.
“I never thought I’d see you that way again,” You admitted. “T-The way I remembered you, I mean. But, baby, I want you anyway I can have you, that’s why I’m here. It’s why I’ve spent all these years trying to find you. I don’t care what you are, it doesn’t change anything for me. It scares me…but losing you scares me so much more.”
You expected to feel more unsteady when you stood but you felt strong. He was instantly there to help you balance, even though you didn’t need him to. He looked as though he was fighting the urge to duck back into the shadows.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” You reassured him. He met your eyes and you smiled. “You’re beautiful this way. You really are.”
He shook his head but you disregarded his denial. He had to know he that his beauty was unmatched.
“Are we the same?”
“No.”
You couldn’t hide your disappointment.
“You should be happy.”
“Why?”
“You aren’t a monster.”
You didn’t try to convince him that he wasn’t a monster. You knew that you couldn’t. Only he knew of the life he lead before coming to Graceland—only he knew of what chaos and destruction he could give rise to.
For ten years, you had hunted him through the shadows, following whispers, chasing nightmares, aching for the impossible. And now, here he stood—unchanged, untouched by time.
You weren’t afraid of his past, of the horror stories told to you along your pursuit. Fear had died in you long ago. At least you thought it had died. Really it’s only been buried beneath the weight of longing—waiting to be reignited by his rejection.
You’d do anything for him but he wasn’t letting you. It didn’t make sense in your mind.
What was a little more darkness when all you had ever wanted was him? To love him. To be his. By any means necessary. Even if it meant offering up your own trembling pulse.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” You said.
“Then we want the same thing.”
You sunk down onto the bed, suddenly in actual need of his assistance.
“You don’t want me…” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking, you were trying to process.
“I can’t change what I am,” He said.
“I can,” You insisted, meeting his eyes with tears in your own. “I’ll change.”
He moved to sit down next to you on the bed. His careful demeanor and perfect posture made the position look unnatural but he wasn’t grimacing like he had been before.
“You aren’t in pain,” You pointed out.
“It won’t start hurting again for days. You’ll be long gone by then.”
“How many days?”
“It depends…” He seemed confused by your inquiries.
“On what?”
“Why?”
You didn’t know how to pose the offer—you had never considered offering yourself up as willing prey to a bloodthirsty vampire before.
“Use me,” You blurted out.
“For what?”
“To keep the pain away.”
He was there one second and gone the next, right before your eyes. You stood and searched for him in a frenzy, thinking that he left you alone. After the disorientation had worn off, you found him back in his corner.
“Elvis~”
“You have to leave.”
“No~”
“While I’m still in the right mind to tell you to go, can you please fucking go!”
You didn’t want to upset him. He was stronger and more capable than you without being pissed off and pushed to his limit.
“I need you,” You continued through your tears. “I-If I can’t be here with you then you might as well kill me anyway.”
“Go home.”
“You are my home.“
“…Why are you doing this?”
“I love you.”
“If you loved me, you’d leave.”
“If you loved me, you’d let me stay.”
“You have no idea what you’re suggesting. There are people that’d crucify me if they ever found out.”
“No one would ever know.”
“They’ll find out.”
“How?”
He didn’t respond.
“It’s fair that way,” You said. “I’ll still be human, you won’t be in pain and we’ll be together—we both win.”
“No one wins~”
“We can be together. Don’t you want that?”
Silence.
“Say something.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“That you love me and want to be with me. Unless you don’t, then say that.”
Nothing.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes. That’s why I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You aren’t asking. It’s what I want.”
He analyzed your expression.
“It’s me,” You said. “You know me.”
You slowly started to see his mind change. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“You stopped last time.”
“Because I thought I killed you.”
“You don’t want to kill me?”
“No.”
“Then don’t kill me.”
He didn’t agree, he didn’t exactly disagree, but he didn’t send you home either.
There was hope.
As the days wore and the pain set back in little by little, the time eventually came for his next feeding.
“I don’t need to.”
“I can tell. You’re just like you were before.”
“I went ten years without feeding, I can go more than a week~”
“You don’t have to anymore, E, that’s what I’m here for.”
He paced the floor in front of you as you sat on the sofa waiting for him. You were nervous to suggest another feeding. You were only just getting to know each other again. That on top of fixing up Graceland into a place suitable for the living had left little room to discuss a proper feeding schedule.
“Don’t call it that,” He griped. “It’s belittling.”
You bit back a smile.
“What could you possibly find funny about this situation?”
“You weren’t this grumpy before.”
“I have a lot to be grumpy about.”
You laughed. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you eat enough earlier?”
“I think so.”
“Water?”
You nodded. “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He was still pacing.
“Elvis.”
“Hm?”
“Come here.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how I’d feel if you died in my arms.”
“That’s not going to happen. Will you come here, please?”
He was there. Sitting next to you the couch, head thrown back with an expression of distant dread.
You shifted towards him and let your fingers run through his sandy locks. “It’s okay.”
“What do I do?”
Although you’d never done it before, you felt comfortable leading the way.
“We can ease into like before,” You said.
“Okay.”
You straddled him, pressing your body flush against his, and he let out a slow, shuddering breath. He was addicted to your warmth, starved for it, craving the heat that pulsed beneath your skin. Every day that passed without feeding made it harder to hold you like this—to touch you without trembling, to want you without needing you.
“Kiss me, E.”
His jaw clenched. “I can’t.”
“I want you to try.”
Your lips brushed his and he went so still that you swore he stopped existing for a second. But then, slowly, he melted into you, into your heat. His lips were cold, but the way he kissed you was anything but. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your hips like he needed to remind himself that you were flesh and blood, not something he could devour. He was barely holding back.
“I love you,” You whispered. “I trust you.”
His flickered with something you couldn’t name. “If I go too far~”
“You won’t.”
“But if I do…” His lips hovered over your neck, a breath away from crossing the line. “I’ll save you.”
A pause. A test.
You didn’t waver. “Okay.”
***
You woke up to find that Elvis had figured out how to connect the IV that he’d stolen from the hospital. You didn’t think you needed it, but it no doubt cut down your recovery time.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I can’t believe it.” There was something enthralling about the whole situation. It felt like getting away with murder.
“Only you’d smile after a night of being fed on by a vampire,” He said with an edge of distaste for your rush of adrenaline.
“Not just any old vampire.” He laughed and you were proud of yourself. “I love you, E. I loved you before all of this.”
“I loved you too.”
“I want to be with you forever.”
“You can be.”
“Not my kind of forever. Yours.”
“I thought you didn’t care about that.”
“I don’t. I care about getting old and dying in a few years. My lifespan is just a blink of an eye in your existence, you told me that.”
“So?”
“I want more than that.”
“You always want more.” He left you lying on the couch.
“Elvis?” You forced yourself into a sitting position. “Come back. You can’t just flash away whenever we’re talking, it’s not fair.”
The house was still and silent. You felt alone.
“I wasn’t insisting, I thought we could talk about it. That’s all.”
Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” You said. “I won’t bring it up again…I swear.”
“Is this really what you want?”
You couldn’t tell where his voice was resonating from but you stood to try and follow it. “Where are you?”
“It’s like living in a shell of your own body. The only time you feel anything is when you feed.”
“That’s not true. You feel things when you’re with me. We feel things.”
He was silent again and you stopped in your tracks on your way to the stairs.
“Where are you?” You called.
“If I turn you, you’ll leave.”
“Of course not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“What can I do to make you believe me?” You sighed softly at the silence and continued up the stairs. “Does this mean you’re going to leave me alone all night?”
You went to his room, no longer looking for anything but a place to sleep.
You found him in his bed with his back to the door that you were coming in. You smiled softly, relieved that he was there. You climbed into bed and he turned to embrace you. He was warm and although you knew it’d wear off eventually, you soaked it in while it lasted.
***
Elvis watched you extra carefully while you slept. It wasn’t unusual for him to watch and listen as he waited for you to come back. Tonight, however, there was a somberness that he couldn’t understand. Only when he approached you and prepared to perform the act did he realize why he’d felt so wistful.
Not only would he miss your warmth, he’d miss the sound of your heartbeat. It was steady now. Slow and relaxed as you slept. You were completely unsuspecting.
He pressed the back of his hand to your cheek, his touch featherlight, as if savoring the warmth that still clung to you. You stirred, just barely, your breath a soft whisper against his skin.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice breaking. “I wish I weren’t so selfish.”
His fingers trembled as they traced the shape of your lips—lips that had kissed him so fearlessly, so full of trust. And then, with the same hand that had loved you so gently, he covered your mouth. Blocked your nose.
Your body tensed, confused at first, then desperate. He pressed his other hand over your eyes, not strong enough to face them when they opened in fear. He could feel the fight in you, the instinct to live, but he held firm, whispering broken apologies against your temple as your strength waned.
Your heartbeat, once steady and strong, began to stutter. He felt each frantic thud against his chest like a plea, a protest. And then—silence. A final, fragile beat before you slipped into nothing.
If he had a heart, it would have shattered. But instead of pain, he felt the cruel, electric rush of your life flooding into him, warming his cold, cursed body as yours went still.
He slowly uncovered your face. You looked peaceful—like you were still resting, like you might wake up any second and scold him for this unforgivable sin. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering against the fading warmth.
“It’s okay, baby,” He whispered, cradling you against him. “I’ll save you.”
***
“What?”
“Go.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re free.”
The words barely registered before Elvis was shoving you toward the door, his touch fleeting, as though he couldn’t bear to hold on for too long. You searched his face for something—hesitation, regret—but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He only stared past you, jaw clenched, voice distant.
“No one locked me up when I was a newborn,” He said, almost to himself. “You deserve to be free, too.”
You knew it was a test, but you took it as an opportunity.
Freedom was intoxicating, a rush so pure it almost felt like love—but not quite. Because nothing, nothing compared to the pull that brought you back.
It wasn’t long that you were gone. You never meant for it to be.
“You came back.”
“Of course I did.”
He watched you carefully, suspicion creeping into the edges of his expression.
“What are you doing?”
“What?”
“Who…what are you doing with her?”
A slow smile unfurled across your lips as the woman thrashed weakly in your grasp, her pulse hammering beneath your fingers.
“I brought her for us.”
His expression darkened. Disappointed. “You fed.”
“I thought we could do her together.”
You snapped her neck in one swift, merciless movement, paralyzing her but leaving her awake—aware.
She screamed.
Elvis didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“Go ahead, E.” You lifted her trembling arm to him like an offering, voice a velvet whisper. “You first.”
His hands curled into fists. “Why would you do this?”
You knelt beside the woman and met his eyes, gaze steady, unyielding. “Because I know you.”
A pause. A breath. The air between you thickened, heavy with something unspeakable.
“You’re an indulger,” You murmured, voice dripping with promise. “So am I. We’re the same.”
His breathing shallowed as he watched you sink your teeth into her skin, the sharp, wet sound of flesh yielding beneath hunger filling the silence. You moaned at the taste, the warmth spilling down your throat, lighting you up from the inside out.
When you looked up, his horror had softened—just barely.
Curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Temptation.
He inched closer, drawn in despite himself, and you seized the moment. Grabbing his wrist, you pressed his palm against your cheek, letting him feel the heat that pulsed beneath your skin.
“You’re warm again,” He breathed, wonder laced with something dangerously close to desire.
You leaned into his touch, eyelashes lowering just slightly. “I am.”
He swallowed hard.
You trailed his fingertips down, slow, teasing, letting him feel the way your pulse thrummed, the way your body came alive.
“Do you feel that,” You whispered, pressing his hand tighter against your skin. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“Birdie…”
“Don’t fight it,” You coaxed. “I did it for you.”
A battle raged within him, fleeting and fierce. But in the end, there was only ever one outcome.
His lips parted. His resolve fractured.
“This has to stay between us.”
Victory tasted sweeter than blood. You grinned, wicked and adoring all at once.
“My lips are sealed.”
And so it began.
Centuries passed in a symphony of dark delights, each decade a new game, a new indulgence, a new way to chase the pleasure of being alive—together.
You hunted. You ran. You lost each other, only to find one another again, over and over, drawn together like gravity.
All in the name of love.
All in the pursuit of endless nights of limitless pleasure, and boundless possibility.
***
His back was against the wall as the two of you stood in some deserted alley in Northern Italy. He looked sun kissed in the moonlight and you wondered whose blood was rushing through his veins.
His eyes flickered down to you, dark and unreadable.
“There’s nothing you can do,” He said. “I can’t change.”
“You won’t change.”
“I’m being honest~”
“Then be honest.” You tilted your chin up, eyes locking onto his. “Don’t say you can’t change. Say you won’t.”
His expression tightened. You wanted to cry, but your beautiful eyes just couldn’t.
“Don’t you love me? You said you did.”
“Because I did.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told you already.”
“Tell me again.”
His hands ghosted over your waist, almost absentmindedly, but his touch was possessive. Familiar and addictive.
“I love it more,” He finally admitted. “We all do.”
“I don’t.”
His brows lifted slightly. “You don’t?”
“No.” You pressed closer, your lips brushing against the sharp edge of his jaw. “I love you more.”
He let out a breath, his grip tightening on your waist as your hands slid up his torso, slow and deliberate.
“You didn’t listen when I said we shouldn’t feed,” He murmured. “You wanted me this way.”
“Why can’t we do it together?”
“Because…” His voice was quieter now. “I’m selfish.”
It hurt to hear him to admit that, but it only made you hold him tighter.
“It’s not enough anymore,” He continued. “Once or twice a week—it doesn’t satisfy me. I need it every day. You slow me down.”
“I can keep up.”
“No.”
“You won’t even notice me,” You insisted. “I’ll cover my own ass, E. I swear.”
His hands moved lower, gripping your hips now, but his stance remained firm.
“You almost got us caught at the blood bank.”
“It’ll never happen again.”
He still wasn’t budging. His body was, though—you could feel the way he was responding to you, the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers twitched against your skin like he wanted to grab you, pin you, and ruin you.
So you played your trump card.
“I’ll make sure we get it every day.” Your voice dropped into something silkier, something sinful, as your arms slid around his neck. Your body molded to his, hips pressing against him just enough to make his breath catch. “Don’t I always make sure we’re okay?”
Elvis might’ve been a vampire, but he was still only a man. And if it wasn’t you that came second to blood, then you were glad it was something you could do for him.
His resolve was slipping. You could feel it. So you leaned in, lips ghosting over his, your voice barely more than a breath—
“I’ll take care of you like I always do,” You whispered. “I promise.”
The alley was damp with the scent of rain and cigarette smoke, but dark enough to conceal you from the public. Not that you cared about the public’s perception of you. Especially not when his hands were now pressing your back against the moist brick, his fingers firm yet careful as they pinned you down.
He always handled you this way—like he was afraid he’d break you, even now.
“You think you can keep up with me?” He asked, teasing but testing.
“Yes,” You breathed, grateful that he was showing some sign of giving in.
His fingers brushed your throat, his thumb dragging across your pulse. You knew what he was thinking. What he needed. So you tilted your head, offering yourself up without hesitation. His lips quirked, something dark flickering in his eyes.
“Sweet girl,” He murmured, before capturing your lips in a slow, devastating kiss. You clung to him, fingers threading through his hair as he deepened it. His thigh slipped between yours, pressing just enough to make you whimper against his lips.
“Elvis~”
“It’s okay, baby,” He soothed, dragging his lips down to your jaw, to your throat. “I’m right here.”
You were dizzy with want as his teeth grazed your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. His grip tightened at your waist, his free hand sliding up your thigh beneath your dress, fingers tracing over your bare heat. He touched you in such a familiar way, practiced and so effortlessly mind-numbing.
Then he bit down.
The pain was sharp, bright for only a moment before pleasure crashed through you like a slow, decadent wave. His mouth was hot, greedy as he drank from you, his tongue laving over the punctures. Although he savored every moment, there was still something about it that wasn’t quite you.
You trembled at the euphoric sensation of being fed from as he pushed you over the edge.
“Take it,” You whimpered softly. “Take it from me.”
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, barely holding yourself up as the tension released low in your belly. His body pressed you into the wall, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You felt worshiped and ruined all at once.
When he pulled back, his lips were stained red, his pupils blown wide. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in a way that made you want him more.
“See, baby?” You whispered, voice thick with satisfaction. “We were made for each other.”
And, God help him, he convinced himself that you were right.
ོ ོ
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ོ ོ
ོ ~Masterlist~
Brought to you by: Ssinnerplazahotel
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Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis/yandere reader, elvis has a gun, manipulation, death threat, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s/70s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
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~Birdie&E Masterlist~
{complete}
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~Winning Birdie Masterlist~
{complete}
@ssinnerplazahotel I adore this series! You capture subtle emotion so beautifully and your well crafted dialogue completely immerses me into the story. Required reading for any Elvis fan!
TYSM not only for reading but for taking the time to recommend. I’m so happy that you enjoyed it!! 🩷❤️🩷
CONT’D (pt.two)
WC:4k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is the alternative ending of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
You were a good girl. You were his girl. You were his good girl and everyone had to know it.
If you were a bad girl perhaps you would put up more of a fight when he got you dressed at night. You’d complain about your skimpy dress and you’d refuse to wear those strappy heels that he loved so much.
If you were a bad girl, you’d do your makeup without a single pointer or correction from him. You’d do whatever you wanted with your hair and not think twice about his opinion. But you weren’t a bad girl, you were:
“Such a good fucking girl.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
You smiled.
He was peculiar. He wanted your dress short—spaghetti or strapless, no other options. He wanted your heels high and your makeup heavy—if you didn’t have to scrub to get it off later then it wasn’t enough. Your hair was to be done into a French twist. Only ever a French twist, regardless of the variety or added flare—he made sure of that. He thought it brought a sense of elegance to your otherwise racy appearance.
“Are you gonna do good? I’m gonna be watching.”
His leg shook anxiously. “I know, I’m gonna do good.”
“Let me see those eyes,” You said, pretending to examine his sapphire irises. “I love you so much, okay?”
“I love you so much, birdie, I do.” He took your face in his hands. “Don’t leave without me.”
“I won’t. I promise.” You let him kiss you without any complaints about your lipstick. You could practically feel the electricity radiating through his body.
“Curtains in ten.”
“Go give it to ‘em,” You said, ushering him away.
“I’ll save a little for you.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “You better.”
He laughed and they led him to where he needed to be.
“Jerry?”
“Yeah?”
“If I don’t sit down I’ll die.”
“Right, right, right.” He came up with the folding chair that he had been forced to carry around and positioned it out of view in the wings. “Good?”
“Perfect.”
Just before the final encore they’d rush you and half the mafia into your cars to be prepared to leave the venue as quickly as possible. You hated that part the most. You were always afraid they’d put you in the wrong car and you’d end up separated.
“Is this Elvis’ car?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, lady. Why?”
“I’m just making sure. I thought they would’ve called it by now.”
“You’ll know when they call it.”
He was right, when they called the final curtain everything erupted into chaos for a good ten minutes before they were eerily calm.
“What’d you think?” Elvis asked as he sat lowly in his seat, towel thrown over his forehead to catch the sweat.
“I wish I could see it all the way through just once.”
“You’d get trampled in that mess if I left you out there.”
“It’s like this build up of energy and it keeps building and building and just when I’m about to explode they’re rushing me to the car.”
He thought that was funny.
“I’m serious.” You moved closer and lowered your voice so that the driver wouldn’t hear. “What are they like in the end?”
“The crowd?”
“Yeah.”
“…I guess they explode.”
You bit your lip. “I want that feeling again. Just once.”
“Yeah?”
“All that energy; I want it too.”
Elvis’ eyes lifted to check the rearview mirror but you didn’t care.
“You said you’d save me some. Did you?”
“Yes.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did.”
You were a mess. “I want it now.”
“Birdie~”
“It’s not fair.”
“You have me. I’m yours.”
“But they get to~”
“I only let them have me for a couple hours every other night. I’m yours one hundred percent of the time.”
That made you feel better, but it did nothing to lessen the ache between your legs.
“I know that you kiss them once I’m gone.”
His smile didn’t break the tension at all. “You don’t like that?”
“I don’t care,” You lied. “I just wish that they could taste me on your lips. That way they’d know.”
His eyes fluttered shut as you kissed the corner of his mouth. He didn’t stop you when you palmed him through the fabric of his jumpsuit, he only spread his legs further. He was too far gone.
He turned to kiss you and you stopped him.
“I’m not kissing those filthy lips.”
“Please?”
“No, I think you’ve kissed enough tonight.”
He swore under his breath but he didn’t complain any further. He was such a good boy when he was so tired that he couldn’t think.
“You’re in big trouble,” You said halfheartedly. “I gotta figure out what I’m gonna do to you.”
He grunted softly as you continued to run your hand over the bulge in his pants. His eyes opened to focus lazily on the rearview mirror. You thought he was keeping watch at first but he didn’t seem prepared to stop if the driver looked. You started to wonder if he wanted to be seen.
“Do you like that, baby?”
“You’re gonna make me come in pants~”
“Do it~”
“No,” He laughed, grabbing your wrist. “I’d rather fuck some of that pent up energy out you first.”
“But you’re so tired. You can’t even keep your eyes open.”
“They’re open.”
“Then why can’t they see how desperate I am.”
“What do you want?”
“I want your cock inside me.”
He nodded and closed his eyes again.
“I hate you.”
He laughed.
“No, I really do. I hate you.”
“Mhm.”
You started to move away from him but he held you in place. “You can’t force me to hug you right now.”
“I’m gonna fuck you so good in minute you’re gonna be acting like an angel for a week.”
There may have been some truth to that statement.
“Harder~”
“Fuck~”
“Harder, bunny, come on. Hurt me.”
He eagerly tried to keep up with your commands as he pinned you over the kitchen counter of his empty suite. You hadn’t made it far before you were begging him to get inside of you. Perhaps the few extra steps to the sofa wouldn’t have killed you, but you weren’t thinking straight. It didn’t matter that the position wasn’t the most comfortable or that the counter was cold against your bare skin, all that mattered was that you were finally satisfied.
“I’m gonna come.”
You pouted. “No.”
“I can’t fucking help it.”
“Keep going.”
His thrusts slowed until they were deep and agonizing.
“Yes,” You encouraged, pressing your forehead against the counter. “You’re so good.”
“Please, stop talking.”
“It feels so good when you do that~”
“Birdie~”
“I love you.”
He wasn’t going to last. He pulled you up by your throat and covered your mouth. Your eyes rolled and you laid your head back on his shoulder. He pulled out with a suppressed grunt before coming in his hand. You turned to lick his palm clean afterwards but he stopped you.
“Do you like doing that?”
“What?”
“Licking it up like that.”
You shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“Are you into it?”
You hadn’t thought about it before. “I guess not.”
He winked and went to wash his hands in the sink. “I’d invite you to shower with me but I don’t think I can go again.”
You picked your dress up off the floor. “I’m good at washing backs and stuff like that.”
“‘And stuff like that?’” He laughed.
“Let me come.”
“Come on then. Get your little shower cap ready.”
You smiled and scurried along with him. You showered and got ready for bed together before lying down. You only had a few hours left before Elvis had to be up for his next flight.
“I knew this was going to be good for you. I haven’t seen you like this in too long.”
“Like what?”
“Happy.”
You laughed.
“I need you happy so that you can take care of yourself when I’m not there.”
“I know.”
“…I found a house in Hawaii.” He seemed hesitant to continue. “After this stint I figured we could go away, us and a couple of the guys and forget about this life for a while.”
“What do you mean a while?”
“A year? Two?”
“How delirious are you, E?”
“I’m not delirious.”
“You’ll lose your mind if you don’t do anything for two years.”
“I know, but…I gotta try.”
“Why?”
“Because, I want you to marry me.”
“So?”
“I want to be able to slow down and enjoy our life a little, birdie. Don’t you want that? I mean, I’m not getting any younger~”
“You’re still young~”
“I want to know what it feels like to be your husband without having to worry about being Elvis Presley.”
“You’ll always be Elvis Presley. The colonel’s gonna make sure of that.”
“Then he’ll find ways to keep it going while I’m gone. When I get back it’ll be like it was before.”
“Are you sure it’s what you want?”
“Will you marry me?”
“…Yes.”
“Then I’m sure.”
You thought in silence for a moment about what you had just agreed to. “I never thought I’d get married….I probably should’ve thought about it more.”
“You already said ‘yes’ so don’t~”
“I was just going along~”
“Yeah, now go along with the ring I’m gonna put on your finger. That left one right there.”
“Do you even love me enough to marry me?”
“Yes. I love you enough to marry you.” He examined your expression. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you think I’ll take care of you?”
You smiled. “Yeah.”
“Then trust me.”
“I trust you.”
He relaxed and you knew he believed you.
*
You didn’t know what to do with the silence. It was what he needed. You could tell that he was different now that he was here—he was calmer and more himself than you’d seen him in years. He seemed younger, brighter and softer around the edges. You wondered if your time on the island had changed you in any significant way. You didn’t feel any different, only more insane with each passing minute.
“What?”
You hadn’t noticed yourself staring.
You could hear the clock ticking on the wall in the kitchen. Elvis’ foot was shaking off rhythm with the ticking and it was starting to get to you. You didn’t respond, instead you moved closer and laid your head on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“When are the boys coming?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I thought you said something about Jerry and Red getting here tomorrow.”
“They never confirmed.”
You sighed. “I don’t want you to get too bored of me out here.”
He kissed your head. “How could I get bored with you?”
“You’d be surprised.”
He sat up to meet your eyes.
“What?”
He smiled knowingly as he examined your expression. .
“What?” You repeated.
“You can tap out whenever you want~”
“I’m not tapping out, I was just wondering, honey, jeez.”
“Don’t ‘honey, jeez’ me,” He laughed. “What’s bothering you?”
You were reluctant to say.
“I won’t use it against you.”
“Sure you won’t.”
“Give it to me, baby, come on.”
“…I can hear everything in this house.”
“Meaning?”
“The clock in the kitchen sounds like it’s gonna die.”
He paused to listen. “How can you hear that?”
“Because there’s nothing else.”
“Do you want music?”
“No, I want action. Chaos.”
He bit his lip and you stopped him. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a bad habit.”
He didn’t do it again.
“Call them and tell them to come early,” You insisted. “Tell them to find you a couple girls too. You love when they bring you girls.”
“…I don’t really want any.”
You narrowed your eyes and he laughed.
“I don’t.”
“I don’t care if you call, E. It’s a stupid game anyway.”
“Call them yourself.”
You sat back. “So, what? We’re just gonna sit in here rotting in silence?”
He stood and you tried not to groan audibly. He joined you back on the couch after turning on the radio.
He pretended not to notice you watching as he returned to his book. “I know you’re going crazy, Elvis. You’re getting off on trying to prove a point.”
“This is honestly the best I’ve felt in a long time,” He said.
“Really?”
“Really. This is all I ever wanted.”
You almost believed him. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know how to sit with myself, how am I supposed to sit with someone else?”
“Just sit there.”
“I’m going to scream if I have to sit here any longer listening to nothing.”
“I turned on the radio.”
“Fuck the radio.”
He laughed.
“I need something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know…I need to go out.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I know.”
“Call Jerry. I don’t care about winning.” He tapped your chin. “I already won.”
You rolled your eyes in disgust.“Call it a truce, at least?”
“What’s that?”
“Elvis, come on~”
“I never heard you speak of such a thing~”
“Call it even. I mean, you’re practically begging me to call him.”
“I’m not begging you to do shit~”
“You sat right there and told me to call~”
“Please, don’t make this into my issue, birdie. You can’t handle it, that’s fine.”
“I can handle it.”
“Then why are you itching and shit?” He smirked and nodded. “You’re biting your lips.”
“You’re biting my last nerve.”
“Call your favorite person.”
“He’s not my favorite person.”
“He’s all you talk about. ‘When is he coming?’ ‘Did you talk to him?’ ‘Is he still in Memphis?’ What’s next?”
“He’s my friend.”
“Then call him.”
You stormed over to the radio and snatched the plug out of the wall before returning to your seat. You sat in a huff and grabbed your abandoned book.
“Really?”
“I hate listening to the radio.”
“Because you’re insane.”
You weren’t insane. But you would be by the end of all this. As you wracked your brain for ways to make Elvis fold, the doorbell rang. You were confused. You hadn’t had any visitors outside of the housekeepers that stopped by every afternoon.
“Stay there,” Elvis said.
You stood with him anyway and he took your hand as he answered the door.
You were surprised to see Jerry there with most of the mafia and a few of their girlfriends.
“You bastard,” You muttered as he let them in.
“Watch your mouth,” He said. “I only did it because I saw you fixin to hit the roof last week.”
“You were gonna hit the roof; you called them because you were going crazy~”
“What are y’all always fighting about?”
“Jerry, can you mind your own fucking business for once in your life~”
“Give the man a break, birdie, he came all the way over here for you.”
“He came all the way over here for you.”
Jerry slipped away quietly.
“Can I get a thank you, at least?” Elvis continued.
“I’m not gonna let you turn this into some kind of grand gesture. You did this for yourself.”
“I did it for you.”
Before you could argue any further there was another voice.
“A-Are you Elvis Presley?”
He was suddenly all hers. “Yeah, baby, how’d you know?”
You bit back a smile as the girl nearly melted where she stood.
“Sorry,” She said. “I’m nervous.”
“That’s okay, honey. What’s your name?”
“Andrea,” She reiterated. “I-I’m Joel’s friend.”
“Joel…” Elvis repeated, looking at you. “Joel?”
“Jerry’s cousin,” You said.
“Oh, Joel, that’s right.” His eyes raked over her body shamelessly. “What’s someone like you doing with Joel?”
She looked away, smiling shyly. “We’re friends.”
“I’m sure he can’t stand that.”
“What’s your name?” You asked, drawing her attention.
“A-Andrea.”
“Hm?” You stepped closer.
“Andrea,” She repeated.
“I can’t hear you.” It wasn’t a lie, there was a lot of noise in the house now. However, you could clearly hear the women speaking. You feigned frustration. “We’re gonna talk upstairs, E. Tell them to shut up.”
Andrea let you take her hand and you led her towards the spiral staircase. When you were upstairs you took her to your bedroom.
“Sorry about that,” You said. “You said your name was…?”
“Andrea.”
“Andrea,” You repeated. “I thought that’s what you said.”
“Y-You’re…Are you~”
“I’m Elvis’ wife but…you don’t really have to think of it that way. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It makes it easier to stay.”
She frowned. “Stay?”
You shrugged dismissively. “How do you know Joel?”
“I don’t. They told me to say that.”
“Who?”
“Charlie and…I forget his~”
“Jerry?”
“Yeah. I was at the airport.”
You noticed then that you recognized the clothes she was wearing as your own. “They found you at an airport?”
“I don’t usually go with strangers but they said they knew him and they had pictures and everything so…”
“Elvis, you mean?”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “I had to meet him.”
“Do you like him?”
“I love him.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.”
“I love him too.”
Her smile faltered slightly. “I know…y-you’re his wife, so…”
“So, what?”
“Of course you love him.”
“Everyone loves him.”
She looked at her hands.
“This is his room. Do you like it?”
“It’s nice.”
“Isn’t it quiet?”
“Yeah…”
“How’d you get out of work?”
“I don’t work.”
“You must have it easy.”
“I don’t complain often.”
“Lucky girl.”
The door opened and it was Elvis. “I was wondering where you went.”
“Andrea and I were talking and it turns out she’s a big fan.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” You looked at her. “Tell him.”
“I-I don’t know—I wouldn’t s-say~”
“You said you loved him.”
“I do.”
“Birdie, leave the poor girl alone.”
You shrugged obliviously. “I’m being nice.”
“Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Is that your name?”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened when he neared her.
“You’re gorgeous, do you know that?”
She shook her head and he laughed.
“I’m here to tell you.” He looked at you. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile when he looked away.
She shifted anxiously. “Th-Thank you.”
“Do you want anything?” You asked.
“No.”
“Sit down.”
She sat.
“I’m gonna go check on the boys, E.” Andrea seemed surprised that you were leaving. “Don’t take too long.”
When you got downstairs you found yourself in the living room watching the party get started. You enjoyed how organically everything happened.
Charlie helped Sonny push the furniture against the wall while Joel found a good station on the radio. Before long the house was alive.
“How’s the honeymoon so far?” Jerry asked, joining you on the couch.
“It’s not a honeymoon.”
“What do you call it when you go on vacation after getting married?”
“We live here apparently.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
You abandoned your drink and faced him. “What’s with Andrea?”
He immediately suppressed a smile.
“Is it a trick? She’s a magician, isn’t she?”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Is she wearing my clothes?”
“Your clothes?”
“You lie like shit, Jerry~”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Did he tell you to bring her here?”
He looked away.
“Well…she’s upstairs with him now if you’re wondering how your mission is fairing.”
“It’s not my mission~”
“Is she supposed to look like me? We look nothing alike.”
“Are you upset?”
“No. I could care less what they’re doing.”
“You lie like shit sometimes too.”
You laid your head on the back of the couch and watched the stairs until you saw them come down. You had lost track of time but it hadn’t been long—not long enough for Elvis anyway.
You pretended not to see him kiss her cheek as you stormed into the kitchen. He found you fixing yourself another drink but you ignored him until he grabbed your chin and made you look.
“That was fast,” You said.
“What?”
“You’re never that fast, she must’ve been good.”
“What kind of game are you playing? You don’t think I noticed that dress?”
You were confused but you didn’t show it. “That dress? Yeah, it’s mine.”
“Why is she wearing your clothes?” There was a stern undertone to his words. He was upset.
“Because you told her to.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Jerry said…” You trailed off when you noticed that the music had stopped. He noticed too and pushed open the service hatch doors to find the boys all gathered there listening. They immediately erupted into fits of laughter upon being discovered. You checked Elvis’ expression first, knowing how much he hated being the butt of any joke. You felt less annoyed upon seeing him laugh along with them. You saw Andrea smiling and you wondered who she really was.
“That was a test, E,” Jerry said. “Now, to ask the source. Did he pass?”
Everyone’s eyes shifted to Andrea.
“Flying colors.” She winked and held her drink up to you. “Congratulations by the way.”
“Just a second, please, y’all can go back to your party,” Elvis said, closing the doors to the service hatch. The music grew louder as you spoke.
“Get her to sign a paper, E,” You said, lowering your voice despite being sure they couldn’t hear. “I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t think I made her sign a paper already?”
“Is that all you were doing up there?”
“I thought it was game.”
“So?”
“I wanted to win.”
You scoffed. “I can’t believe we got played by the mafia. They just learned my name and they’re pulling shit like this?”
“At least it kinda feels like you’re a part of the gang now.”
You chuckled incredulously. “You marry a man and spend six weeks with him on a deserted island and you’re just ‘a part of the gang.’ What has the world come to?” You stopped him when he moved to kiss you. “Did you kiss her?”
“No.”
“You can’t resist~”
“I didn’t kiss her.”
“What’d you talk about?”
“Mostly about the NDA she was signing. You could’ve stayed and watched; made it more worth my while.” You laughed and let him wrap his arms around you. “Can we have a party?”
“Will you hold my hand?”
“I think everyone knows you’re my girl by now.”
“Can’t be too sure.”
You couldn’t keep up with the boys like you had been able to in the past. When you called it a night, much to everyone’s dismay, so had Elvis.
You felt at peace enough to fall asleep as you listened to the sound of chaos happening downstairs. You were transported back to Graceland when you shut your eyes. It was almost enough to make you forget how homesick you were.
“Can I close it?”
“No.”
“They sound like wild animals.”
“I like it.”
Elvis didn’t complain any further about the door being opened. He only listened to the ruckus along with you.
You were happy and you were finally safe enough to recognize the intensity of your love without feeling the need to run away from it. You weren’t afraid of the love that you felt for him. It was honest and unconditional and for once you weren’t afraid.
Anxious and a little paranoid—but not afraid.
Fin.Complete.
WC:5k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is the alternative ending of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I mean it.”
“Bunny~”
“I didn’t know what to think when they told me you were in that car.” He took your face in his hands. “I can’t believe you were in that car.”
“I’m sorry.”
It didn’t matter how sorry you were. His body still wracked with sobs as he sat on the edge of your bed.
He had been that way since the doctors allowed him back. He was borderline inconsolable and he refused to not be looking at you for even a second. Being in your arms wasn’t enough, he wanted to see you, feel you, breathe you—brand you to his skin if he could.
“I thought you were dead. I thought they were gonna tell me you were dead.”
“I’m here.”
He shook his head. “You said something bad would happen and you were right. I didn’t listen.”
“That was just a stupid feeling. You can’t blame yourself~”
“It wouldn’t have been a stupid feeling if that driver had veered any further to the right; it would've been the truth. It’s my fault.”
Your head was hurting. So was the rest of your body but mostly your head.
“I messed up. B-But it’s not gonna happen again, I’m not gonna let it happen again. I-If….If it does, I’m gonna be right there. I’m going down too.”
“Elvis~”
“If you didn’t wake up I would’ve blown my fucking brains out~”
“Please don’t say that.” You closed your eyes. You couldn’t stand the thought.
“Look at me.” He waited until you did. “I can’t live without you.”
You reached to dry his eyes. “You don’t have to, okay? I’m right here.”
He tried to take a breath but he was still too worked up. You tried for a moment to breathe with him but it didn’t seem to help. Eventually you moved over in your bed and he squeezed in to hold you. Besides some serious bruising and a mild concussion, you had suffered the most watching Elvis breakdown. He was in a panic and you didn’t know what to do.
“You gotta calm down, bunny.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down right now.”
“I’m not.”
“You just did.”
“I-I know, I’m…I’m sorry.”
“I can’t live without you…” He continued to look at you. Wordlessly trying to absorb as much of your presence as possible. He never thought he’d see you again—a feeling he thought he’d felt for the last time before now.
“You have to sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
“I heard that you’ve been up since I got here.”
“I’m not tired.”
“I’m gonna be right here when you wake up.”
“No.”
“El…” You sighed. “If you’re worried, baby, you can listen to the monitor. It’s beeping normally so I must be alright.”
He listened for a moment and he looked less anxious.
“See?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“You can. Close your eyes.” He did so despite his reluctance. “Listen…it’s like a song, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“It is. Try to find the rhythm…do you hear it?”
“…I guess.”
“It’s kinda pretty.”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if I can make it swing.”
He smiled and you felt less tense. “You might not want to do that.”
“I love you, E. So much,” You whispered. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Keep going.” His voice was a whisper too now.
“I love you. I love you. I love you….” You let your words trail off and he didn’t complain as he finally gave in to his exhaustion. You saw him fight it for another moment before he was out.
You finally let your eyes close and despite your best efforts, you cried.
*
You didn’t believe in magic, but everyone around you did. And every now and then they’d ask you to use your special powers to make Elvis Presley do something Elvis Presley didn’t want to do.
They must’ve thought that you had him under a spell so good that you could snap your fingers and make him do whatever you asked. In some cases it was true but in others it was impossible. From you: they always expected the impossible.
“He needs to be there on time, ready to work.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do~”
“Who are you talking to?”
Without thinking, you slammed the phone onto the hook and faced him. “S-Sorry, baby. I didn’t realize you were ready.”
“Who was that?”
“No one.”
“You were talking on the phone to no one?”
“No, it was…they were asking a-about rehearsal again.”
“How’d they get to ask anything if you hung up as soon as you heard who it was?” He didn’t force you to respond. Instead he ducked his head and kissed you before reaching past you to take the phone off the hook. “That’s one of your old moves, right?”
You tried to smile. “Right.”
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Okay.”
“You sure? You were complaining earlier.”
You nodded but your mind was occupied. “The shows you agreed to are coming up, E, and you haven’t rehearsed once. I mean, they were nice enough to give you another chance, you…the least you could do is show up.”
He got the exact look on his face that you had been expecting. “Why are you talking about my business?”
“I’m worried.”
“Why? How does it affect you? You still get everything you want, don’t you?” You pouted and he laughed. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”
“I don’t want you to lose track of what’s important to you.”
“You’re important to me.”
“You’re throwing away your opportunities to perform. It’s everything you wanted and you’re just throwing it away.”
“I’m not throwing it away. I’m gonna do it.”
“Then go to rehearsal.”
“I’m not going unless I can take you with me.”
“You can’t.”
“So I’m not going.”
“You’re being an ass.”
“Hey, now~”
“You’re laughing but they’re blaming me for everything you do.”
“Do you want to know what’s gonna happen?” He didn’t wait for a response. “They’re gonna call tomorrow with everything I asked for. I’ll even give them until the next day.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.”
“The same people that have been threatening to sue the breaks off you are gonna suddenly grant your every wish?”
He shrugged. “I’m not asking a lot.”
You hugged him—mostly to comfort yourself.
“Why are you so upset?”
“They don’t yell at you, they yell at me.”
“Who yells at you?” He tried to push you away but you wouldn’t let him. “Birdie, who was yelling~”
“I don’t want you to handle it, I want you to go to rehearsal.”
“I’m gonna go.”
“Tomorrow.”
He fell silent and hugged you back.
“I’ll be there to pick you up.” No response. “And to drop you off?”
Nothing.
“Will you go?”
“…Okay.”
He avoided your eyes as he walked out of your arms.
*
You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe either, but most importantly you couldn’t move. You were afraid they’d pounce if you moved.
You stayed as still as you could and kept your eyes focused on the book you were flipping through. The words didn’t matter. Only that you turned the pages at a reasonable pace and kept a neutral expression on your face.
“He wants the girl.”
You exhaled. But you still couldn’t breathe. Not until:
“There’s my dirty bird.”
“It’s about time.”
“They treating you alright?”
You hugged him and finally glanced around the room. It wasn’t as small as it had seemed before.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You tried to smile. “How was it?”
He shrugged and took your chin in his hand. “I was worried about you.”
“How could you worry?” You gestured to the guards.
“You don’t like them?”
“I can’t tell if they’re keeping me in or keeping something out.”
He laughed and the cops escorted you from the room you were in directly into the car.
*
They wanted you to release him. You didn’t know how to prove to them that you weren’t keeping him.
“Can’t you just let him out for one night? It’s Christmas.”
“For the love of god, Red, I don’t have him chained to the bedpost. I told him to go, he doesn’t want to.”
He wasn’t buying it. “I know Elvis.”
“I know Elvis and I’m telling you he hasn’t been the same since the accident.”
“You mean he hasn’t been the same since you got him hooked on your fucking painkillers~”
“If you think that’s what’s going on you’re a fucking idiot, alright? Fuck you.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the kitchen.
“Baby?” Elvis wondered when you got upstairs. He immediately rushed to comfort you at the sight of your tears. “What happened?”
You shook your head.
“You can tell me.”
“They want you to go downstairs.”
“Who said that?”
“Red.”
“…You let that make you cry?”
You hid your face in his chest. “They hate me.”
“Who cares if they hate you?”
“I do.”
“I love you. I’d rather spend the night with you. It is Christmas, after all. Can’t I spend it with the girl I love.”
You wanted to accept that but you couldn’t help but feel like you were clashing with the majority.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“…Okay.”
“You hesitated.”
“No.”
“Do you want something for it?”
“They wanted me t-to…y’know start the whole weaning process this week so…I only have three left.”
He nodded. “That’s okay, baby, I’ll get you a refill.”
“How?”
“I’ll call your other doctor.” He smiled and kissed your cheek before standing to grab the bottle. “I don’t want you in pain.”
You couldn’t tell what you were feeling but upon further reflection you realized what it was.
Relief. You were relieved at the prospect of a refill.
As you lay in bed later that night you didn’t feel as bad about keeping Elvis all to yourself. He didn’t have to be there but he was—and he wanted you.
“Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas, little girl?”
“Mhm.”
“Santa ain’t miss a thing?”
“No, I think he got everything. Did you get what you wanted?”
“I only asked for one thing.”
“Did you get it?”
“Yeah, I got it. And I’m not ever letting it go.”
“Ever?”
“Never.”
“That sounds like an awful long time to hold on to something.”
“Yeah, I might have to put my name on it just to be safe.”
You laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“About what?”
“My name.”
“You want to put your name on me?”
“You can call it getting married if you want to sound more civilized.”
“You’re talking crazy.”
“I mean what I’m saying.”
You didn’t know what to say. The thought alone made you feel like you were suffocating.
“Birdie.”
“Hm?”
“Come back.”
You met his eyes.
“We’re just talkin, honey.”
“Marriage ruins people. I’ve seen it.”
“Not if you really love a person.”
“You think you really love a person until you’re bound to them for life. Then you start itching and shit.”
“‘Itching and shit—” He laughed.
“I’m serious,” You insisted, smiling despite yourself. “Especially you. I mean, you can’t even sit still for more than twenty minutes.”
“Neither can you.”
“So why would you try to make me? Why would you try to make yourself?”
He was silent.
“I love you, bunny, I do. I love the way things are now.”
Nothing. You checked his expression and there was nothing there either.
“I’m sorry,” You tried.
“You’re making it sound like you’re gonna get tired of me in a minute.”
“I haven’t gotten tired of you yet.”
“What do you do when I’m gone?”
“Oh, Elvis, I didn’t mean to get you started~”
“Is there another man~”
“No.”
“Then what?” You tried to move out of his arms but he held you there.
“Let me go.”
“We’re talking.”
“No, you’re getting ready to pick me apart.”
You tried to get your arms between you but he only laughed at your efforts. “I’m curious about what freedoms you think you’d be giving up. That’s all.”
“Whatever’s in your head it’s all wrong.”
“What’s in my head?”
“I’m not gonna pretend to read your mind.”
He kissed your nose—ignoring the look of disdain on your face as you lay captured in his embrace. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Do you believe that?”
“I believe that you believe that.”
“Can you answer the question?”
“Can you let me go?” He released you and you felt bad as you sat up. You kept your back to him, too afraid to face the hurt in his eyes. “It’s too much, E.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It makes me feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to prove to you that I’m staying~”
“Birdie~”
“I mean, I’m here every single day, even when you’re not. I go weeks without talking to anyone when you’re working, it makes me feel insane. I’m just here waiting by the phone because every time I miss your calls you think I’m somewhere screwing you over~”
“Can you fucking stop for a second?”
“You fucking stop.” You stood to find your cigarettes.
“Are we fighting now?” Elvis wondered. He hadn’t moved at all and he still lounged comfortably in bed with a relaxed expression.
“Yeah and I think you’re getting off on it.”
He laughed and shook his head in denial. “No.”
“No? Then why are you so calm?”
“Because I’m not scared of you.”
You frowned. “What does that even mean?”
He shrugged.
“No, no, no. Answer.” He laughed. “And stop laughing at every damn thing I say.”
He bit his lips and squinted—clearly concentrating on not laughing.
“What do you mean by that?” You thought you saw him think about it and it made you wonder if he even knew what he was saying half the time.
“I’m not afraid of the…” He was confused. “The mean little thing that comes out when I get too close—it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”
“Am I being mean?”
“You’re not being sweet.”
“Because you’re driving me up the wall.”
“I’m sorry, doll.” He motioned for you. “Come back to me.”
“I need a cigarette.”
“I got one for ya.”
“Where?”
He smiled and reached into his pocket to retrieve your cigarettes. “You want one?”
“Are you teasing me with my own cigarettes right now?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, opening the case and taking one out. “Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Say please.” There was a mischievous look in his eyes as he put the cigarette between his lips.
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re addicted to nicotine.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, but I have a cigarette.”
“Please?”
“Nicer.”
You took a breath. “Please?”
He motioned for you again and this time you joined him in the bed. He took his lighter from the bedside table and lit the cigarette, taking a drag before turning to press his lips to yours. He exhaled as you inhaled and it felt like he was getting you high.
“Please,” You whispered against his lips.
“Take it.”
“I don’t want it, bunny, I want you.” You kissed him again and you felt like you were getting higher despite the lack of smoke.
“For how long?”
You stopped. “What?”
“You want me, but for how long?”
“Forever.”
“Then marry me.”
You were suddenly sober as you pulled away from him. “Give me the fucking cigarette.”
He handed it over and watched you smoke it for a few minutes.
“Say something, Elvis.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t read your mind.”
“You’re the only thing that matters to me in the world. You’re all I think about.”
“Say I marry you, then what? What’s it going to change?”
“I don’t know, it just seems like the natural thing to do.”
“The natural thing to do isn’t always the right thing to do.”
“What do you think is going to happen?”
“I think your expectations will change and I’m not willing to adapt.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m not meant to be a wife.”
“You didn’t think you were meant to be a girlfriend either.”
“At least this way I’ll know that if you get tired of me you can walk away for free.”
“Is that what you’re so afraid of? Me getting tired of you?”
“I’m still waiting.”
You didn’t expect his expression to get so serious so quickly. “That has to be miserable.”
“What?”
“Constantly waiting for people to leave you.”
“I’m not constantly waiting, they just usually do.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I believe that you believe that.”
He fell silent for a moment before holding his hand out for the cigarette. You gave it to him and watched him smoke it until it was nothing. It was silent for a long time even after he’d dropped the butt into the ashtray.
“Are you mad at me now?”
He shook his head.
“Are you done talking to me?”
He sighed. “No.”
You didn’t know what to do. “I feel like you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you making me feel like you are?”
“For fuck’s sake, birdie, I can’t help how you feel. If I could I’d make you stop feeling like everyone’s out to get you all the goddamn time.”
“I can’t help it.”
“It drives me crazy, makes me feel like I don’t even know what you’re doing here. What’s the point of this?”
You were afraid he’d go there, you knew he’d eventually question everything—that’s why you always tried to avoid the discussion.
“And now you’re silent. Of course.”
“I’m sorry~”
“Yeah.”
“I really can’t help it.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure you believe that.”
You didn’t say anything else, you only moved to climb out of bed.
He caught your arm. “Where are you going?”
“I want to sleep alone.”
“Yeah, right,” He said as you struggled against him.
“It’s not like you want me.”
“Stop being a brat and go to sleep right there.”
You gasped when he forced you to lie down. “Don’t do that~”
“Go to sleep.” He kissed your forehead and reached for the light.
“No~”
“I’m turning it off.”
“I can’t sleep in the dark.”
“Get used to it.”
You couldn’t see. “Elvis~”
“It’s okay~”
“I can’t see.”
“Because it’s dark, honey.”
Regardless of how much you wanted to get away from him you clung to him in the pitch blackness of his room.
“I’m scared.”
“What do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know…”
He held you closer and rubbed your back. “I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”
You believed him.
*
“You don’t think…?”
“I-I don’t know…what’s today?”
“Saturday.”
You felt sick again.
“It’s only a couple weeks off, I mean…it changes cycles sometimes.”
“You’ve always been at the beginning of the month.”
“Except for last Thanksgiving.”
“True.”
You dried your sweaty palms on the seat of your pants. “If it’s true, I’ll just…”
Elvis frowned. “You’ll just what?”
You shrugged. “It’s not the first time something like this has happened, E. I mean, I’m careful but sometimes…sometimes accidents happen.”
“Accidents happen?”
“I knew a lady back in the day that took care of these things all the time. She was real quick and gentle about it~”
“Plain fucking English right now, birdie. What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m going to get an abortion.”
He looked stunned. “…Wow.”
“What?”
“Wow.”
“Elvis~”
“Just wow, do you never fail to fucking amaze me.”
You didn’t know what to say as you watched him storm out of the kitchen.
You shouldn’t have told him. You knew you should’ve handled it on your own.
“What’s wrong?” Jerry asked, appearing in the kitchen.
“I’m pregnant.” You didn’t know why those words seemed to knock the wind out of people.
“W-Wha…I-I mean…Congratulations~”
“Shut up, Jerry, I’m not keeping it.”
“Why?”
“What would I look like raising a baby?”
“…A mother?”
“Fuck off.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Can you take me downtown?”
“Downtown?” He frowned. “Downtown’s not what it used to be.”
“I need to find out if this lady I knew still lives in the complex off Main Street.”
“You’re gonna get an abortion in an apartment off Main Street?”
“Yeah.”
“…How about I take you to a hospital.”
“I don’t trust hospitals.”
“I know someone who’ll do it off the record.”
“How?”
“I know a lot of people.”
“You’ve knocked up a lot of people?”
He laughed. “No. I just listen and observe.”
You crossed your arms. “He might not forgive you if he finds out.”
“Oh…he wants it?”
“I think so.”
Jerry nodded and you could see in his eyes where his loyalties were.
“I’ll figure it out, Jerry.”
“At least get to the hospital if you decide to…don’t go downtown.”
You shrugged and pushed yourself off the counter. “Where’d he go?”
“I think he’s outside.”
You found him outside throwing a ball around with the dogs. You hated those damn dogs.
“Can you hold him, E?”
“No.”
“I wanna talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” He threw the ball your way and you nearly screamed. “They’re gonna think you’re playing if you run~”
“Hold them then!”
You heard him laughing as he called the dogs and shooed them away.
“Can we talk?”
“I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I want to hear your thoughts.”
“I think you’re a crazy bitch.”
“Okay, but…I don’t know why you want it. You’re never here, you don’t have time~”
“It’s a part of you.”
“So?”
“I want every part of you,” He said. “I know that doesn’t mean I’m entitled to it, but I…I can’t help but want it.”
“It’s not practical.”
“None of this is.”
The dogs were there again and you were rushing into his arms.
“How can you be so scared of something half your size?”
“It’s lucky it’s not smaller, I’d crush it under my shoe.”
He laughed.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me, bunny.”
“I’m not. I love you too much, that’s all.”
“…Jerry said he knew someone at the hospital.”
“Okay.”
“Will you take me?”
He was silent for a moment but ultimately agreed.
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
He looked off.
“This doesn’t mean never, E. Just not right now.”
He nodded but he didn’t look any less disappointed. You wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t.
*
“When you’ve had abortions in the past, complications may arise that can affect fertility or lead to difficulties in future pregnancies, including preterm labor or miscarriages~”
“Can you turn that shit off, E? It’s making me crazy.”
“You need to listen to this. She’s telling you what you need to do.”
“I’ve been listening, okay? I can’t take it anymore.”
He turned off the radio and you sighed.
“I’m trying to get you to realize that it’s normal.”
“All it’s doing is making me feel like I’m going to be suffering the consequences of this for the rest of my life.”
“I tried to let you cry it out and everything else, but I’m not gonna sit here and watch you wither away~”
“Don’t say that. I’m not withering away.”
“You haven’t gotten up in days. If I didn’t make you eat something yesterday you wouldn’t have. Do you understand how that’s a problem?”
You closed your eyes.
“Open your eyes, birdie, I’m scared,” He said. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Get up.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“I can’t.”
“I want you to get up,” His voice broke when he said it and you were surprised to find tears forming in his eyes. “I-I gotta get on the road tomorrow, honey, I can’t…I-I can’t leave i-if~”
“No~”
“I’m not leaving i-if you’re like this,” He cried, dropping down onto the edge of the bed.
“No, bunny, please.” You were moving to comfort him before you fully realized what you were doing.
“I can’t take seeing you like this.” His body wracked with sobs. “I-I can’t take it anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” You felt so guilty.
“I don’t want to lose you. I need you to get better.”
“I know.”
“You gotta learn to live with it.”
“I know.”
As he calmed down a bit you tried to reassure him that you’d put forth more of an effort to move on. It had been weeks since the procedure.
It was your decision this time. So why did it hurt so much? A part of you wondered if your depression had stemmed from the loss or from the fact that you felt like you had robbed yourself of yet another experience because you were too afraid.
You were too afraid, that’s always been an issue. You were a coward and you hated yourself for it. This entire situation had done nothing but remind you of everything you hated about yourself. You felt like the same little girl you were the first time it happened. Only this time you hadn’t saved the baby from anything, you had only saved yourself from it.
“I want you to go on the road with me.”
“I can’t~”
“The first few stops at least.”
“What will Parker think?”
“I could give less of a shit what he thinks. It’ll be good for you.”
“Can I at least pick my own outfits?”
“No.” He chuckled softly at your disappointment. “I already fixed them anyway.”
“I can’t stand in those shoes you like all day.”
“I’ll make sure they get you a chair.”
“…I’m so tired, E.”
“You’ve been asleep all day.”
“I think that’s why I’m tired.”
“I need my baby birdie back to herself by the end of the week. I mean it. No more laying around like this. The birdie I know would’ve hit the roof if someone made her lay around like you’ve been laying around.”
“I feel like all the energy has been drained from my body.”
“Going on the road will get you back where you need to be. Out there, on the wind—like usual. You’ll snap back quick, I know it.”
You didn’t know how to tell him that the thought of going outside made you want to cry.
*
You were a good girl. You were his girl. You were his good girl and everyone had to know it.
If you were a bad girl perhaps you would put up more of a fight when he got you dressed at night. You’d complain about your skimpy dress and you’d refuse to wear those strappy heels that he loved so much.
If you were a bad girl, you’d do your makeup without a single pointer or correction from him. You’d do whatever you wanted with your hair and not think twice about his opinion. But you weren’t a bad girl, you were:
“Such a good fucking girl.”
… (cont’d in pt. two)
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, elvis has a gun, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is part five of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
“I can’t believe you’re going through my stuff~”
“I can’t believe you’re still adding numbers to your little whore book~”
“I wasn’t going to call him, Elvis, I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“The only man’s feelings you need to be concerned about hurting are mine.”
“Here you go again with this possessive, macho-man bullshit~”
“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t screw around on me.”
“Like you’ve been celibate since I’ve seen you last.”
“It’s been a month since you’ve returned my calls, birdie. If you let me come see you more often I wouldn't have to resort to~”
“Baby, what do you want me to do? I said I wasn’t going to fucking call him!”
Your voice echoed in the silence that followed and you slammed your purse down on the counter. Elvis glared at you, his eyes grazing over your body—vivisecting every aspect of your appearance.
“Who was here tonight?”
“No one~”
“I can tell.”
“How?”
“I can always tell.”
“…Your senses must be off.”
He thought for a moment. “Take off your dress.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take it off.”
“Why?”
“So I can check for myself.”
You waited for him to say something that suggested that he wasn’t serious. He only shrugged expectantly. You contemplated for a moment what you could get out of the situation.
He didn’t seem surprised when you reached back for the zipper of your dress, he only watched you very closely. You slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders and his eyes followed the blue fabric of your dress as it pooled around your ankles—raking back up your body with an expression that can only be seen and not described. You wondered if he’d try and consume you if you got too close.
When he motioned for you you stepped out of your dress and walked over only wearing your heels.
He stepped around you and you couldn’t see him but you shivered when you felt him put his nose to the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, doing the same to the other side.
“Do you believe me now?”
“Almost.”
He made you face him and you couldn’t disguise your surprise when you saw him sink down onto one knee.
“Really?” You wondered in awe, too full of lust to actually be upset.
You moved to brace yourself on the counter and he kissed your hip. “You could just tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“If I’m gonna taste another man on you.”
“Oh, bunny.” You pouted, taking a handful of his hair into your fist. “You know you’re all the man I need.”
“Are you saying anything to make me happy?”
“All I want is to make you happy,” You said. “It’s what I live for.”
“You’re getting desperate.”
You shifted onto your other foot. “I don’t know how long you expect me to stand here waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“What do you think?”
There was an amused gleam in his eye. “Who said I wanted anything to do with you after the shit you pulled?”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Conducting an inspection.”
“Well can you conduct it a little faster?”
He proceeded to spread your legs further, using his fingers to get a clear view of your cunt. You thought you saw his mouth watered at the sight before he went for a taste. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue traveling through your arousal before the contact came to a screeching halt.
You opened your eyes to find him standing and wiping his hands on the seat of his pants. “Elvis.”
“What? I’m done. I believe you.”
“You’re crossing the line.”
“I said I believe you~”
“If you don’t get me off tonight you’re going to regret it.”
He laughed. “That’s a threat I ain’t heard before.”
You shook your head, disguising the disappointment in your voice as a warning. “You gotta learn to choose your battles more wisely when it comes to me.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“I know. That’s the problem, bun.”
You knew the amusement behind his eyes would only last so long, so you let him have it.
“Good night.” You started to walk away, grabbing your purse but leaving your dress on the floor. “You can show yourself out, you know the way.”
“I planned on staying.”
“So?”
“So I’m staying.”
“To do what, cuddle?”
“I like that idea.”
“You must have me confused for one of those other little girls~”
“Oh, birdie~”
“I don’t fucking cuddle,” You snapped. “And I don’t play fair, so tell me if you really want to take it this far…this is me giving you a chance to correct yourself.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Then make the right decision.”
He stepped towards you, laughing when you retracted. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m going to bed.”
When followed you to the bedroom he found you laying back stark naked in bed, holding your infamous notebook—your ‘whore book’ according to him. A pocket size, black leather notebook with enough numbers to fill a telephone directory.
“What’re you doing with that?” He wondered as he joined you.
You ignored him and picked the phone up. The first number you dialed rang out and you tried another.
“What are you trying to do?”
“Hi, is this Ray?”
Elvis scoffed in amusement. “Really?”
“Guess who…that’s right.” You held up a hand when Elvis neared you, warning him not to come any closer. “Did you miss me?”
He didn’t give up on his pursuit and tried to lean in next to the receiver to hear the voice on the other end.
“Stop,” You laughed at him. “…Nothing, baby, just…trying to scare off my dog. Yeah…he’s been a real bad boy lately. I’m thinking about taking him to the pound.”
Elvis kissed your neck when he was close enough, nibbling softly at your skin.
“Mhm…” Your movements faltered as you tried to push him away. “I was just laying here thinking of you and I thought it was late enough to call…she is? Well…be real quiet then…I just need to hear your voice for a minute.”
You switched the receiver to your other ear and turned onto your side to avoid Elvis’ touch.
“Remember what we talked about last time I saw you?” You asked Ray. “Y’know before I left…yeah. Tell me what you’d do again.”
“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Elvis asked.
You closed your eyes. “How bad do you think it’d be if she found out?”
“Birdie.”
“I know that’s what you want…I don’t know if I can stand it. But it hurt so good last time, I just want to do over and over~”
Elvis finally sat up and snatched you up, pulling the phone from your ear and putting it to his. “Hello?”
“Nadine?”
He groaned in disgust upon hearing Ray’s voice, slamming the phone on the hook. “I can’t believe you were really talkin to someone.”
You laughed and fell back on the pillows behind you.
“Where do you find those kinds of freaks? I-I mean—what was he even saying?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“You’re dirty, bun, but you’re not that dirty.” That seemed to really piss him off. “I signed an NDA when he gave me his number,” You quickly added. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone what we talk about.”
“You just call and talk each other’s rocks off, is that it?”
“I like the way you said that.”
“Is that what you do?”
“You’re acting like you’ve never heard of phone sex.”
“You get more and more interesting, it’s insane.”
“Are you going to block every call I make?”
“I’ll do that before I sit here and listen to you get off to some other man.”
“It could be you. You’re the one being insane.”
“Just because I won’t get you off doesn’t mean you can’t still get off.”
“What?”
“Get yourself off.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do~”
“Not with the phone.”
“How?”
“With me?”
“With you?”
“Yeah.” He focused on the way his fingers traced patterns into your hip instead of meeting your eyes—as if he was somehow timid about what he had been suggesting.
You took his chin and made him look at you. “Say it.”
“Use me to get yourself off.”
Your heart was suddenly between your legs. You would’ve had more shame if you’d been less desperate for his touch. You moved to straddle him and he instantly looked less nervous. “Is this what you want?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
You rutted your bare cunt against the rough fabric of his slacks, sighing softly at the friction. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to be so mean to me.”
“I wasn’t mean. You just can’t handle not getting your way.”
“Don’t make your power struggle into mine, E,” You said. “I only want one thing.”
“You don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t deserve anything,” You agreed. “Is that supposed to make me want it less?”
“Take it if you want it.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You kissed him and continued rutting against him through his slacks. You closed your eyes and focused intently on moving your hips enough to feel the perfect amount of stimulation on your clit. It was taxing work but you knew your body well enough to get something out of it. He moved to undo his belt but you stopped him.
“No.”
“Birdie.”
“Stay just like that, baby…fuck, I’m coming.”
Of the rare occasions that you had to fake an orgasm in your life, you’d never tried to be so convincing. You trembled through your ‘orgasm’ before attempting to move out of Elvis’ lap.
He stopped you. “Really?”
“Let me go.”
“Birdie, I swear.”
“I did what you said, E, I got myself off. You should be fucking happy~”
You released a surprised yelp when he sat up and suddenly forced you onto your back.
“No,” You complained as he pinned your arms by your head and bit your neck. “Fuck…it’s not fair.”
He let your arms go and positioned himself between your legs. “Get my cock inside you.”
“Now you want me?”
“I do whatever I want, birdie. That’s what I’m tryna get you to understand.”
“Not when it comes to me, you don’t~”
“Why are you still talking?”
“Because I do whatever I want.”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“Then shut up and get my cock inside you.”
You clenched your teeth but ultimately reached between the two of you and unbuckled his pants enough to free his cock.
“I hate you,” You whispered as you guided him inside of you. “I fucking hate you.”
It was a lie and he knew it, but he still let it rile him up. He growled deeply and rolled his hips into yours until you were tensing with pleasure. He was angry, and you felt it in every snap of his hips.
He didn’t care about making you come in that moment, he only cared about making you his. You broke the fastest when he had a point to prove.
Your soul had a way of separating from your body when he fucked you that way. There was nothing tactile holding you to the earth, only him. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move—you could only let him devour you.
You trembled and he held you down as he came. You felt the weight of his body on yours but it wasn’t enough to make you stop feeling like you were floating away.
“Birdie?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
You frowned and opened your eyes—you hadn’t realized they were closed. “N-Nothing, bunny, are you okay?”
“You don’t have to sit up~”
“I’ll get s-something to~”
“That's okay, honey, I’ll grab something,” He insisted. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” You swallowed. “A-Are you okay? Was that…I’m sorry~”
“It’s okay, baby…I’m fine.”
You nodded. “Good. Okay. That’s good.”
He nodded with you. “Stay right there, okay?”
You nodded.
He nodded with you.
“Okay?”
“Okay, bunny.”
*
When Jerry showed up it was always because there was a mess to be cleaned up that had absolutely nothing to do with him.
“What are you doing?”
“Jerry, don’t come to my door asking vague ass question~”
“It’s not a vague question~”
“I’m not in the mood for your shit~”
“You know where you’re supposed to be.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not supposed to be anywhere.”
Jerry crossed his arms and took a breath. “He said he’s not going on until he sees you.”
“You don’t actually believe that do you?”
“It’s only a few hours until the show and he’s not even dressed. He refused to do a sound check.”
“…He didn’t do sound check?”
“And he won’t let anyone in his dressing room.”
“Well…if he’s stupid enough to be that unprofessional then it’s his fault. Sue him, I don’t know.”
“What’s your problem? What do you want?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
“What’d he do?” You fell silent. “Tell me, I’ll fix it.”
“We just…he got pissed at me for the skirt I wore to the party the other night.”
“Okay?”
“He got rid of all my clothes. I haven’t had anything to wear for the past two days.”
“Got rid of them how?”
“He threw all my luggage away. It’s gone and all he left me with is this.” You untied your robe to reveal your outfit.
“That’s…I mean, it’s not so bad.”
“You can’t even look at me.”
“Because it’s—I-I mean, you’re~”
“I look like a whore.”
“No, o-of course not…”
You closed the robe and tied it in a huff. “He’s trying to humiliate me by making me wear this and you know it.”
“It’s not as bad as some of the stuff you see in the city these days.”
You crossed your arms. “I’m not going.”
“I need you to. I know I ask a lot of you~”
“Every time you people put him in a shitty mood you look at me to fix it.”
“I know but this…this is different. It’s too important for him to fuck it up because he can’t get out of his head.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“I expect you to show up in your little outfit and stroke his egos if it means he’ll put on one hell of a show out there.”
You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t felt this degraded in years.”
“You’re beautiful,” Jerry said. “And you know who you are, we all do. But I need you to…I need you to be his girl for now.”
You contemplated his words. “Fine, Jer, alright. For you, I’ll play.”
“Play nice.”
“I’ll play nice.”
“Thank you. God, you’re saving my ass here, believe me.”
When you got there Elvis immediately dragged you into his dressing room and shut the door.
“Where the hell were you?”
“You’re really holding up an entire production because you can’t handle not getting your way for once?”
“You should’ve been in place when I asked you to be.”
“I’m here now.” You threw your hands. “Elvis Presley’s whore, present and accounted for.”
“It’s not any different than your get up last night. I thought you’d be happy.”
“Get dressed, Elvis. I’m going to find my seat~”
“You don’t get to leave until you tell me why you were so late.”
“I’m late because I just spent the last five hours having a nervous breakdown over this outfit.”
“Is that really why?”
“Just come right out and fucking say it~”
“I’m sick of you and Jerry disappearing~”
“You sent him to come get me! Are you joking?”
“I don’t trust you! I never have. Even today I didn’t expect you to show up.”
Then you understood why he’d been so adamant about seeing you before going through with the show—he thought you’d disappear and not show up for him.
“Damn you,” You sighed. You felt bad. “You can’t expect me to keep up with all your issues.”
“You weren’t going to come, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t. But luckily I worked up the courage to go outside with my ass hanging out~”
“As much as I needed you today and you weren’t even going to show~”
“I’m here, I came!”
“You were gonna screw me over!”
“It turns out I didn’t, so why does that matter?”
“What’d Jerry do to make you change your mind?”
“He didn’t do anything~”
“What’d he say?”
“He said it’d be my fault if this entire thing fell apart.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I told him that you weren’t enough of an idiot to ruin the production.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I think you would’ve been up on that stage regardless of if I showed up or not.”
He didn’t confirm or deny your statement. “…I think you look good in the outfit.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s exactly how I imagined it.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it. I only wore it to make you happy.”
“It’s making me very happy.”
You swallowed, pushing your pride aside and crossing the room to meet him where he was standing by the vanity.
“Do you want to know something?” You leaned back against the counter and he immediately turned to stand in front of you.
“What?”
“Even if all I had was a bath towel to wrap myself in, I was gonna be here tonight.”
“Really?”
“Really…I was already dressed when Jerry got there.”
“You were?”
You shrugged. “I knew you’d send someone eventually.”
“You’re always playing.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you would stop trying to beat me at my own game.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?”
“For what I said before a-and for hiding your luggage.”
“And for the outfit?”
“I had the outfit picked before you showed your ass last night.”
You were bewildered. "What made you choose this?”
“I knew I’d need you before the show. To help, y’know, clear my head.”
“So?”
“I thought we’d speed the process up a little if you wore something sexy for me.”
You punched his shoulder. “You’re such a sneaky bastard.”
He laughed. “How’s that sneaky?”
“You picked a fight last night knowing you were going to make me wear this?”
“I just wanted to get in your head.”
“Well, you did.”
“I already apologized.”
What an asshole. You loved him too much for your own good. “Is it working?”
“What?”
“The outfit. Is it speeding up the process?”
“I’ve been ready for you since I got word that Jerry went to get you.”
“Should we clear your head a little before you get dressed?”
“Please~” There was a knock on the door and suddenly a crew of people spilled in.
“We’re backed up and we need to get back on schedule.”
“Sorry, E.P. I tried to stop em.”
“You couldn’t try for five more minutes?”
“Elvis, baby, look at me.” You took his face between your hands and met his eyes. “You know what to do when you get out there, you’ve done it a million times before. You don’t need me to clear your head, you never had me before.”
“That’s not true.”
“How?”
“I-I’ve always had you. Since that night i-in Ohio.”
“Well…you wanna know what’s different about today and all those other times?”
“What?”
“When you look out there today, I’m gonna be right there in the front row cheering you on. That’s never happened before, has it?”
“No.”
“Hair and makeup in five.”
“Don’t look at them, look at me.” You waited until he met your eyes again. “You remember what to do?”
“Huh?”
“About our little problem?”
“Little problem?” He ribbed halfheartedly.
You pouted. “Come on, E, I’m trying to~”
“Alright, yeah, I know.”
“Just tuck it away for later.”
“That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“I love you, alright? I’ll meet you right back here whenever you get a break.”
“You love me?”
“Yes, baby, I love you so bad.”
His eyes lingered on your face for a moment. “I better let them have me.”
You smiled softly. “Just for a little while.”
He kissed you once more and pulled away, winking as you were escorted out of the room and to your seat. You noticed a few more stares than usual and heard a few comments about your skimpy outfit. Despite the initial urge you have to cringe, you stood tall and even pulled your plunging neckline further down to expose more of your cleavage. You enjoyed the shock factor more than anything.
When you saw Elvis again after the performance you were essentially a walking puddle of lust.
“What’d you think?”
All heads turned to you when you entered the room and you realized he was addressing you in front of a room full of people.
“O-Oh, it was good.”
“Just good?” He laughed, watching you squirm. “Tell me what you really think.”
“…It was amazing.”
He wasn’t the only one to laugh in response. You wanted to die.
"C’mere, honey,” He said, motioning for you to finish crossing the room. The others in the dressing room must’ve taken that as their cue to continue as usual. “You looked so damn good out there.“
“I-I loved it, really…the whole thing, it was so, uhm…" You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. “Sorry, I’m just so…”
He tried to meet your eyes. “Just so…what?”
“I can’t.”
“Tell me in my ear.” He looked amused as he made you lean all the way in to talk into his ear.
“I’ve never wanted to fuck a man so bad in my life.”
“Mhm?”
“When I s-saw you up there it’s like…the adrenaline—it was just such a-a rush seeing you up there, I think I…”
“Say it.”
“I-I think you made me come.”
The dressing room was immediately cleared and you couldn’t find it in your heart to be embarrassed as Elvis sat you atop his vanity and fucked you for all to hear.
“I-I just pressed my legs together and it just…it just happened.”
“Fuck, keep going.”
“You were s-so powerful up there…I saw all those people reaching for you a-and all I could think about is how much they wanted you. And how I wanted you just as bad. W-When you got down right there in front of me~”
“Yeah?”
“It just happened~”
“Fuck~”
“I pressed my legs together and it fucking radiated through my entire body~”
“I’m coming.”
Every inch of you was electric and you were buzzing with desperation. “Let me have it, bunny, please, I need it~”
“Don’t do that~”
“Come on my thighs, baby.”
You hugged him as he came, guiding his flaccid cock back inside directly after. You didn’t want to let him go.
“N-No~”
“Push back in.”
“Birdie, I-I~”
“Please, keep going. I need it.”
His hips stuttered away and he shuddered as he braced himself on the vanity.
You shook your head disapprovingly. “Don’t run from it. You can take it.”
“I can’t.”
“I know you can. Please, I’m gonna come.”
“Oh my god…”
You felt him twitch helplessly inside of you and before long he was fully hard again. With the adrenaline of the day’s events still running through his veins, he had the libido of a teenager. He reached between your legs to force you over the edge quicker, he didn’t last long the second time around—he never did.
“What’s wrong?” He asked as you came down.
“Nothing…why?”
“You’re cuddling me.”
You were aware that your arms were still around him but you denied it. “I am not.”
“What do you call this?”
“I’m just—I don’t know, hugging you…?”
“You never hug me.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, birdie.” He squeezed you tighter and you laughed. “I don’t want you to ever stop…I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Liar.”
“I do.”
He knew it was true; but he still asked: “Why?”
“A million reasons.” He fell silent and you imagined he was overthinking something about your response. You tried to get him out of his head before he got too lost. “Baby, my back hurts.”
“Oh, sorry.” You laughed as he carried you from the vanity to the couch.
“Get yourself together, E. I’m sure they’re gonna keep the ball rolling.”
“The first time you cuddle me and you want me to let you go?”
“You don’t have to. I would just hate for someone to walk in and catch you with your dick out.”
He laughed and moved to find something to clean the both of you up with.
*
You had always been eager to please—you enjoyed it. But he brought something new out of you.
You wanted to please him, at times it seemed like all you had to live for—more than that, however, you wanted him to love you. Sometimes, that meant altering the very fiber of your being, and the fact that you were willing to do so made you want to curl up and die.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing. Leave me alone.”
He kept pushing. “What’d I do?”
“Why do you think you did anything?”
“Because you’re being shitty.”
“I’m tired.”
“…I had a great night.”
“So did I.”
“So what happened between leaving Robbie’s and getting back here?”
“Nothing. I just want to go to sleep.”
“You weren’t tired before~”
“You’re badgering me~”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me what it is. I already know, so tell me.”
“You already know?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me what you think you already know.”
“You’re trying to make me leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“It doesn’t seem like you want me to stay.”
You sighed. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“So?”
“So why would I make you leave when you’re going to leave on your own in a few hours?”
“…I’m so confused.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, you have to talk about it. That’s how you work shit out.”
You tried to hide your tears but he saw them before you turned onto your side.
“I don’t understand,” He said, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. “I’m not mad, little, I just want to understand.”
“…I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate feeling like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”
He fell silent for a moment and when he did speak again, he was laughing. “Aw, honey~”
“If you fucking laugh at me right now I’m going to scream~”
“I’m not,” He chuckled. “Come on, I-I just…I never heard you say something like that before.”
“It’s not funny,” You whispered. “I have a bad feeling…like I’ll die.”
“You always say that.” It was true, but the feeling you had was real.
“My chest hurts. You might as well shoot me in the back of the head when I’m not looking and put me out of my misery.”
“Birdie, come on~”
“I don’t do anything when you’re gone, I just lay here waiting for you to get back.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve always known how to have a good time.”
“You get mad at me when I go out.”
“That never stopped you before. You were M.I.A. all summer in Miami~”
“I was miserable in Miami.”
“You still went.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t feel good when you aren’t here.”
“…This is so unlike you.” He laughed when you sat up suddenly and punched him in the arm. “Ah, alright, shit. You hit like a man.”
“You don’t make it any better by not calling, you asshole. I talk to your fucking friends more than I talk to you. It’s like exchanging urban legends.”
“Baby,” He drawled, taking you in his arms and forcing you to sit in his lap despite your protest. “Quit acting like a baby.”
“I wish you’d just…go away so I can start getting used to you not being here already.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Yes…but you’ll break my heart if you go.”
He tapped your chin and you met his eyes. “What if I’m gone when you wake up?”
You nodded, avoiding his eyes to hide the tears in your own.
“Don’t cry, honey. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t say that.” You hated when he said that.
“I’ll think about you every second and I’m gonna call every chance I get.”
You nodded.
“You can’t leave the phone off the hook all the time,” He said. “I only have so many chances to talk and shutting me out won’t make it any easier.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll leave it on the hook.”
“…Do you wanna cuddle?”
You shook your head, cracking the smallest of smiles.
“Come on, pun’kin, let me hold ya,” He chided, making you laugh despite your tears. You met his eyes and brushed his hair from his forehead. He looked up at you with a fond smile.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing, you’re just…pretty when you cry.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You aren’t.”
“It’s so stupid.”
“Birdie~”
“I’m such a fucking~”
“Hey.” His stern tone cut you off. “Why are you going there?”
You tried to cover your face but he stopped you.
“It’s fine,” He insisted. “You’re just being a girl.”
“A stupid girl.”
He laughed.
“How long?” You didn’t want to ask, but not knowing was more torturous.
“It’s four weeks.”
“Are you gonna forget about me while you’re there?”
“No. I’m gonna talk to you every single day.”
“Jerry’s gonna talk to me every single day~”
“I’m not gonna forget about you. I want you to come out for the first show. We’re having a party the night before.”
“You want me there?”
“Of course. I need my girl there.”
“Won’t all your other girls be jealous?”
“Maybe, but I’m gonna be there with you.”
The phone rang and you both sat there listening until it rang out.
“Bunny?”
“Hm?”
“Put me to bed.”
He didn’t say anything as he stood and laid you down on your back. You didn’t let him go when he moved to pull away and he shifted on to his side to hold you.
Silence fell over the room, and you each tried not to anticipate the emptiness that the following weeks would bring.
*
One second you were telling Elvis that you were going to the kitchen for a drink and the next you were being forced against the counter by one of his drunk friends. You pushed him away easily at first, he wasn’t the first drunk man you had to ward off.
“Robbie, you’re drunk,” You had said. “You don’t even know what you’re doing right now.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing right now.”
“Stop.”
“Come on, just let me feel it a little.”
Gross. “Robbie, seriously, you’re being a sleeze.”
His actions persisted and just when you were about to apply the necessary force, it entered the room.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“E-Elvis.” You pushed him away once and for all but the damage was done.
“E.P., I know what you’re thinking~”
“Rob, man, you got about five more seconds to get out of my sight before I decide to ruin everyone’s night by snapping your fucking neck…five.”
He scrambled to leave, adjusting his pants as he went. You sighed when he was gone but your relief was too soon.
“Really?”
You looked at Elvis. “What?”
“Robbie?”
You were confused. “What about him?”
He scoffed, astonished. “You were gonna screw him.”
“Is that what you think?”
“What else am I supposed to think after what I just saw?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, E. He’s out of his mind right now, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Sure, but you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
You went back to fixing your drink. “What do you want me to say?”
“Wow,” He laughed, but it didn’t seem to hold any humor. “You really have no shame.”
“What good is shame?”
He fell silent and if you would’ve turned your head you would’ve seen the livid expression on his face. But you were oblivious and by the time you looked he was already storming out of the kitchen.
“Where’d Elvis go?” You wondered as you returned to your seat at the dinner table.
“He went upstairs,” Charlie said, handing your hand of cards back. “I got back ahead. You’re almost even with Joey.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You see this?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a good thing.”
You nodded but you didn’t care. “You finish, baby, I’m gonna go check on Elvis.”
“Alright.”
“Bet’s still mine if I win.”
“Alright, alright.”
When you got up to the bedroom you found him there.
“Baby?” You wondered. “Why’d you come up here? What’s…why do you have that?”
“I need it…”
“Why?”
He shrugged and checked the pistol’s clip. “I think somebody deserves it.”
You felt frozen. “…Who?”
“That’s what I was just trying to decide.” He stalked over to you slowly. “Is it Robbie? Or is it…”
You wanted to back away but you couldn’t. He brought the gun between you and held its cold barrel to your chin.
“You?”
You shuddered. “P-Please, d-don’t do that~”
“‘P-Please, d-don’t do that—’ Why? Why shouldn’t I?” He pulled back the hammer of the pistol and you couldn’t think. He was demanding a legitimate reason but all you could do was stammer in response.
“I-I’m~ I don’t—Elvis~”
“You think I’m just gonna let you screw around and do nothing about it?”
“N-No~”
“Maybe back then but not anymore~”
“Elvis~”
“I’ll do something about it now!”
“P-Please—”
The gun fired and suddenly the room was silent. Not because he had stopped yelling. No, he was still doing that. He was still fuming, his arms were still waving wildly as he cursed you—you feared the veins in his neck would explode if he screamed any louder. You felt shot, you were sure you were, but no. He’d pointed the gun upwards just as he squeezed the trigger. You weren’t hit but all the air had left your lungs and it felt like you had been.
You didn’t notice it before but you began to hear another voice. It was your own and it was repeating something, quietly at first but eventually it was as loud as everything else.
“Stop. Stop.” Stop. You were begging him but he wasn’t listening. You covered your ears and let yourself sink onto the floor. It was too much.
“Don’t curl up now,” He shouted, trying to drag you back up by your arm. “You weren’t that pitiful when you were getting ready to screw my fucking friend~”
“It wasn’t like that~”
“What was it like?” He snapped, letting you fall to the ground. “What were you doing in there?”
“I didn’t know he followed me~”
“I saw you talkin to him all night, so just shut up, alright? Nothing you say matters, it’s all lies!”
He threw the pistol across the room and you thought it’d hit the wall and go off, injuring or killing one of you. It clattered to the ground without discharging and you started to cry. You thought you’d been crying already, but you would’ve noticed the way your tears made everything blurry. Everything wasn’t so blurry before.
“Now you want to sit there crying like you’re so fucking innocent.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t know why I waste my time thinking you give a shit about anyone but yourself. I’d call you a whore but whores screw people for money, you’re different. You have some other twisted reason. You’re on this constant and never ending search for validation. It has to be exhausting. And you’ll get it just about anywhere you can find it—even if it means screwing the man that raised you.”
That was it. That was the one.
“You spell it out for me time and time again and I still choose to ignore it. You’ve been telling me this whole time that this is who you are. You had me fooled into thinking you changed but you know what? Nope. Not anymore, you’re done.” He was still saying something as he straightened his clothes and prepared to storm out of the room. “I want you gone when I get back. I don’t care where you go—go to hell. Actually, no, go home with fucking Robbie. Do you want to go home with fucking Robbie?”
The door slammed shut after him and you were left in silence. Your ears were still ringing and even though you couldn’t feel your heart beating you could hear it as loudly as the ringing. It was too fast. If it didn’t slow down you worried you might have a heart attack. The door opened again and you wondered if Jerry had been waiting outside or if he’d come up when he heard the gun.
“What happened?”
You shook your head and looked down to hide your eyes.
“Come on,” He encouraged, stooping down to help you up. “Forget about him, don’t let him ruin your night.”
“…I need you to get away from me, Jerry.”
“I don’t want you to~”
“I need you to get away from me right now, Jerry, please.”
He sighed and stood to leave. “Y’all are gonna be fine tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Y’all are gonna be fine tomorrow. So can’t y’all be fine now?”
You were crying again. “I don’t think he wants anything to do with me.”
“You know that’s not true~”
“You didn’t hear what he said.”
“What’d he say?”
You must’ve leaned to the right, and you must’ve kept leaning because eventually you were laying on your side. You curled yourself up and stared at your distorted reflection in Jerry’s shiny shoes.
“What are you doing?” He wondered.
“I like your shoes.”
“What?”
“Your shoes…I like them.”
He didn’t say anything—you imagined him frowning but you didn’t check. You only stared at yourself.
“Come back downstairs.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because…I want everyone to think he killed me.”
“Why would you want that?” He stepped back and you were gone.
“No,” You protested, reaching for the shoe.
“Stop,” He complained, pulling his foot away. “What’s that matter with you?”
“Jerry, please.” You looked up at him. “Give me the shoe.”
He stared at you for a long time. “Why?”
“Because I like it.”
“Will you come back downstairs if I do?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
He turned to leave and you were crying again.
“You’re all the same,” You shouted as he left. “Heartless. Fucking cold and heartless people who don’t know how to care about anything that doesn’t directly benefit them. You’re all addicted to instant fucking gratification—” The door slammed shut and you were alone. You relaxed onto the floor and stared into space. You wanted to fly away but you couldn’t move.
When Elvis returned to his room you weren’t sure how much time had passed.
“What are you doing?” He asked as he walked past you into the bathroom. It didn’t seem like he cared. “Jerry said he talked to you. What’d he say?”
You couldn’t speak. You could but you didn’t. You were silent.
“Birdie?” He walked out of the bathroom. “I asked what he said.”
“…nothing.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“No.”
You heard him shuffle around some more before climbing into bed. “Why’re you still here if he didn’t say anything?”
You were silent.
“What are you doing down there?” He asked. “Come get in the bed.”
You weren’t sure if you were the lunatic or if he was. Maybe it had been more time than you realized. Maybe it had been more than a night—maybe it had been years again.
“Birdie,” He repeated. “Are you ignoring me?”
“No.”
“Get in the bed.”
“No.”
“I’ll come down there then.”
“No.”
“No?” He wondered. “You don’t want me to?”
“No.”
“Have you been down there this whole time?” There was more shuffling and you felt him near you before his sock clad feet came into view. “How long have you been laying here?”
“I can’t move.”
“Why?”
You shrugged. “…Do they think I’m dead?”
“No.” You could hear the frown in his voice.
“Damn it…”
He got down onto the ground and laid on his back next to you. “Did you ask Jerry for his shoes?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I could see myself in them.”
“So?”
“I never see myself in anything.”
He chuckled and you opened your eyes.
“Did you laugh?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“What?”
“How can you laugh right now?”
His smile faded until he was serious again. “Why’d you stay?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t?”
“No…”
He looked up at the ceiling. “I know I lost my temper the other night.”
You closed your eyes and imagined you were in Jerry’s shoes again.
“I couldn’t handle seeing you and Robbie. Everybody knows you’re my girl—can you imagine how it made me feel to be humiliated like that? Even if you didn’t screw him you had every intention. That’s what made me snap.”
“…He followed me to the kitchen.”
“I didn’t see that. All I saw was~”
“Him forcing himself onto me~”
“It didn’t look like~”
“That’s what it was.”
He sighed. “I believe you, alright, I’m just telling you what I thought at the time. It looked like you wanted him to…”
Your mind finally processed his words “the other night” and you were suddenly too consumed with figuring out what day it was to listen to him rattling off his list of reasons why he did and said the things he did and said but it didn’t matter anymore because he already did and said them and you were already hurt.
“I don’t want you to think I meant anything I said, I didn’t. I don’t even remember half the shit I said I was so pissed off,” He was saying when you started listening again. “I-I’m glad you stayed. I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t see you downstairs and I thought you had went off somewhere.”
You were silent.
“I’m sorry,” He finally said. “I-I didn’t mean to get so upset.”
“…It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you look at me and say it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
Now he was silent. You wanted him to say something. You couldn’t imagine his expression so you had to open your eyes—you wish you hadn’t because then you wouldn’t have had to see the utter devastation behind his eyes.
“I’m sorry…” His words trailed off like it hurt him to speak.
“I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I wasn’t~”
“You made me feel like you were.”
He apologized to the ceiling again and you told him that it was okay.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes. I accept your apology.”
“But you don’t forgive me~”
“I do forgive you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know….” You wish you knew.
“Are you going to leave?” He wondered.
“I don’t want to.”
“So?”
“I’m not going to.” He didn’t seem relieved.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, bunny.”
He turned onto his side and put his arm over your waist. “I’m gonna make it up to you.”
You spent another long night on the floor, except this time he was there and it didn’t feel like the last time you were going to see him again anymore. And no matter how much he complained about it being uncomfortable, he didn’t leave.
*
Shoes. Shoes. Shoes. Every shoe. The shiniest shoes. Every shiny shoe that he could find.
Were you content?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
“You aren’t serious,” You laughed, jumping into his arms. “You’re a lunatic.”
“I told you I’d make it up to you.” He smiled. “I went after Jerry, but man he really loves his shoes.”
“Shut up,” You said, pushing him away and going over to where the shoes had been laid out across the den.
“They’re custom, look.” He took a pair of silver kitten boots from one of the boxes. “You should definitely be able to see yourself in these.”
You held them up and they glittered under the light. “I can see both of us.”
He kissed your cheek and you smiled. “Are you happy?”
“Yes.” You put the boots down and turned to hug him. “You did good, bun.”
“I want you to pick a few pairs to take with you on the road. I’ll send the rest back to LA.”
“On the road?”
“I want you here more.”
“Really? B-But the colonel said~”
“I’ll deal with him,” He said dismissively. “If you can’t tell, I miss you when you’re not here.”
You felt an odd sense of comfort in knowing that.
“Okay.”
“Come on, little bit. I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired.”
“I’m always awake. I don’t sleep when you’re gone, I'm like the walking dead.”
“I don’t like hearing that.”
“It’s true.”
“I’d see you more if you’d tell the Colonel to slow it down~”
“Hey, hey, hey~”
“‘Hey, hey, hey’ yourself,” You said. “I can look at you and tell you’re exhausted.”
“Then let's go to bed. I’m not in the mood to talk about work.”
“Fine. Let’s put my baby to bed.”
You chose the shiniest shoes out of the bunch to wear to the show the next night. You watched the entire thing from the wings and it was everything you expected it to be and more. Something changed in him that night and he wasn’t the same man walking off stage that he was walking on.
“What’d you think?”
“It was…everything.”
“Yeah?”
“You were everything. You were amazing.”
He took your face in his hands. “D’you think they thought so?”
“Yes, baby,” You said, bracing yourself on his chest as you stood up on your toes. “You were electric, we could all feel it.”
“Let’s go, E.P., they wanna talk to ya.”
“I’m heading that way,” Elvis called back before kissing you. “I gotta let ‘em have me for a little bit but I’ll see upstairs. Find Jerry, he’ll show you how to get back from here.”
“Okay, bun. You did great tonight,” You said, letting him go. “I love you.”
“I love you…” He hesitated before he walked away. “I’ll see you tonight?”
You nodded and smiled encouragingly for him to go. You tried not to let it show but you think he saw it anyway that he wasn’t going to be seeing you again.
Jerry showed up as soon as he was gone. “Ready?”
You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
He took you to the door backstage that led to the street outside. The rain had picked up but you were glad it hadn’t seemed to put a damper on anyone’s night. “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?”
“Yes, Jerry. If I get to the airport in time I’ll get back to LA before it's even midnight.”
Jerry held his umbrella over your head as he checked the trunk for your luggage. “I don’t know why you have to go right now.”
“I have to,” You said. “It’s better this way, baby, trust me.”
“How?”
“He’s busy. He’s distracted. He feels really good about himself right now.” It felt like you were trying to convince yourself more than Jerry. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to take his mind off it anyway.”
“Of course not~”
“Just make sure she looks nothing like me.” You opened the door and prepared to climb into the car. “I love you, Jerry, you’re the best. Get out of this rain.”
“What am I supposed to tell him?”
“You never saw me.” You gave the driver the go ahead as soon as you shut the door and the car lurched into motion.
“Where’s your flight headed?” He wondered.
“Los Angeles,” You told him. You didn’t disguise the sadness in your voice as well as you had hoped.
“What’s in Los Angeles?” He saw the tears in your eyes and he ignored them. He was trying to take your mind off of what was troubling you but he was only bringing the issue to the forefront of your attention.
“Nothing, I’m just…” You couldn’t think of anything interesting to say—you had no bizarre ideas or truths to bend. You couldn’t think of anything but the look Elvis would get on his face when Jerry told him he hadn’t seen you. “It’s just me.”
He must’ve decided that you were too pitiful to cheer up because he didn’t say anything else.
You leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes.
“It’s only four weeks,” You repeated to yourself in an effort to stop your tears from falling. You couldn’t see out the window past the rain, you were glad that you couldn’t. It meant that you couldn’t look out and watch the building—the entire building, as if it was somehow a giant, looming embodiment of him—disappear into the distance.
It also meant that you couldn’t see the semi truck in the lane to your right hydroplane and spin out of control. If you’d seen that, maybe then you could have moved away from the window. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hit so hard, so fast. Maybe you could have even braced yourself for the impact, but no. It didn’t happen like that.
Instead, you were talking yourself out of a breakdown one minute and the next there was chaos and you couldn’t see.
Although it was black and you couldn’t feel anything, you saw his eyes—his deep blue, grief-strickened eyes. There they were, so rich and full that you could taste them.
And then there was nothing.
❦ fin. ❦
WC:7k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is part four of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
“Hello?”
“I’m looking for the girl you were with earlier.”
“Who the hell is this?”
“Put her on the phone.”
“…Hello?”
“Birdie?”
“E?”
“What the hell are you doing in Seattle?”
“Oh my…How did you get this number?”
“How do you always manage to show up in the damndest of places?”
“Well…I-I’m…” You were genuinely at a loss for words.
“How’d you get caught up with a vulture like Don Siegel?” He was seething. You hadn’t heard his voice in over three years, you weren’t used to its intensity. “Wh-What~ I mean Jesus Christ, the man’s married.”
“I d-didn’t know~”
“Oh, yes the fuck you did.” His voice was heavier, fuller and dripping with something new…something different that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “My heart sank when I saw you with that man. How do you end up in these situations?”
“Can you hold on a minute?” You still heard him fuming when you took the phone from your ear. “Baby? I have to take a call in the other room. Don’t pick up the phone.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t pick up the phone.”
“Yeah…”
You scurried to the other room as fast as you could and dropped onto the sofa—he was still going when you picked up the other phone.
“—I don’t know how you find new ways to~”
“Elvis?” He wouldn’t stop, and you almost didn’t want him to. Something about it was exhilarating. “Come on, I can’t…bunny, please. Listen for a second, just listen.”
He fell silent then, finally taking a breath.
“I can’t believe it’s really you, E.”
“Oh, now you know how it feels, huh?”
You laughed. “How do you know Don?”
“Honey, how the hell do you know him?”
“We just fool around sometimes~”
“Oh, please spare me~”
“You asked.”
“What happened? You got so good at playing tricks that you’re on to higher circles now?”
“‘Higher circles,’” You repeated incredulously. “Don fucks the same as any other man~”
“Birdie!”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hear it. Alright?”
“How are you, baby? Are you okay?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“How’s your girl?”
“It’s getting harder to keep in touch.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m busy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He didn’t want to talk about it. “I worked on a project with Don—it went straight to the gutter.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It bombed in box office.”
“Well, if I had known I would’ve gone to see it a million times.”
“You really had no idea we worked together?”
“We don’t do a whole lot of talking.”
He clicked his tongue and groaned in annoyance.
“What a coincidence,” You continued. “I’ll have to tell Don how we know each other.”
“Whenever you have a free moment to talk,” He said sarcastically.
“I’ll just tell him while he’s going down on me, he’s usually a great listener then.”
“I can’t stand you.” You laughed and he was silent for a moment. “What’s he call you?”
You were practically squirming in your seat. “Do you really want to know?”
“I don’t think I can handle the mystery.”
“…I let him call me Sugar.”
“He thinks that’s your name?”
“He’s not as inquisitive as you, believe it or not.”
“Does he pay you?”
“No, E. It’s not like that. W-We…Well, we’re in love.”
“You love him?”
“I do.”
There was silence on the other end and for a moment you worried he was going to hang up.
“You aren’t gonna hang up on me, are you?”
“…No, I just…I don’t know.”
“You sound upset.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you say those words.“
You felt the tension disappear as you laughed. “You’re too easy, bunny.”
“Are you serious?” He asked, fuming again.
“I told you two seconds ago that we just fool around sometimes,” You said. “Did you forget that already?”
“So what—do you love him?”
“Of course not,” You responded. “You need to stop believing everything I say.”
“I can’t tell what’s true and what’s not.”
“So don’t believe any of it.”
He scoffed and you imagined him shaking his head in disbelief. You liked that he was still so easy to rile up.
“I want you to come see me while I’m here.”
You weren’t shocked by the request. “How long are you here?”
“Just through the fifteenth.”
You hummed thoughtfully. “I can try to~”
“Get something to write down the address.”
“…Just a second.” You took the phone from your ear and, for a moment, you contemplated hanging up. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve. But it was Elvis. You brought the phone back to your ear. “Alright go ahead.”
“You didn’t get anything to write with.”
“Can you see me through this thing?”
“No, I just don’t trust you~”
“What’s the address?”
“1902, Second Avenue.”
“The Doric?”
“You know these things of the top of your head?”
“The…yeah, the Doric New Washington?”
“Tell them your name’s ‘Birdie’ at the front desk and they’ll send you up.”
“I don’t know when I’ll~”
“I want to see you tonight.”
He hung up the phone after that. After recovering from your shock, you stood to go back into the bedroom.
“Who was that?”
“Elvis.”
“Oh…oh?”
“I gotta get going, Don.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“You’re asleep anyway.”
“…Will I see you again?”
“I’m sure you will, baby—every night in your dreams.”
He laughed but made no further attempt at conversation as you quickly dressed and left the room.
You cleaned up as best you could in the bathroom—trying to disguise the wrinkles in your dress was useless. You left the suite and went to find the elevator. You got to the front desk and rang the bell.
“Can I help you?”
“Sorry to bother you again,” You said, only slightly embarrassed. “Someone is supposed to be expecting me.”
“And you are?”
“Birdie.”
The woman scanned the list, skipping past the name ‘Sugar’ to find ‘Birdie’ in fresh ink.
You smiled when she met your eyes. “That’s me.”
She handed over the key with an edge of distaste. “14th floor.”
After hiding out in the hall for an hour or so, you finally made your way to his room. You felt an eerie sense of calm as you approached the door. You thought you’d be more anxious seeing him again.
“Who is it?” He called when you knocked.
“Take a wild guess.” You were shocked by the velocity in which the door opened.
“You fucking—“ You screamed when he picked you up, struggling against him for a moment.
“What are you doing?” You laughed.
“I called Don back,” He said as he drug you into the room and shut the door. “I didn’t know it took an hour and a half to get up three floors.”
“Put me down,” You squealed. “You crazy old~”
“You better not finish that~”
“Let me go so I can see you.” You stumbled back a few steps to look at him. “Yeah, that’s you. Still the same bunny I remember.”
“It’s only been about three damn years.”
“Has it really? I didn’t even notice.”
His eyes narrowed. “…Yes you did.”
You smiled. “Why are you in Seattle?”
He shrugged dismissively. “Another thing.”
“Good thing?”
“Yeah. A lot people want it.”
“You look good.”
“You look like you’ve already had a long night.”
You tried to laugh but your smile faltered. “Ouch.”
“Take a shower.”
“…You have this new way of telling and not asking, I’ve noticed.”
“I don’t have time.”
You crossed your arms. “I don’t like it.”
“Will you please go take a shower so that I can get a chance with you before you disappear?”
“Elvis.”
“What?” He seemed unbothered by your expression. “I’m sure you’ve got a million more tricks to get through before the end of the night. I don’t want to waste your time.”
“You’re being rude.”
“I’m just playing the game.”
“I don’t play the games you’re used to anymore.”
“What are you doing with Don then?”
“The same things you do with the girls you bring back to your room every night. Are you spinning tricks on them? I mean, I know you are, but do you call it that?”
He shrugged dismissively. “Then I guess we’re the same.”
“I guess so.”
“…Will you go take a shower?”
“Why? Are you worried you’ll taste him on me?”
His jaw twitched. “I can smell him from here.”
“You don’t like that?”
“I can’t fucking stand that.”
“Sorry…I’ll go wash him away.”
You wanted to believe that he was the same. Although the years had gone by torturously—it had been such a short amount of time. When you looked at him, he was the same. Bold, glamorous and soft enough around the edges to pull you in without raising any suspicion about his razor sharp charisma. But there was something else there now. It was darker and it genuinely made you want to know if he was okay.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Nothing, I-I didn’t…I thought we could talk.”
“About what?”
You nodded in agreement—unsure of what else you were supposed to do.
You went into the bathroom and showered in a rush. If he didn’t have time, neither did you. When you got back into the bedroom, you had expected him to be there waiting for you. He seemed so desperate to get the night over with before. However, you found him in the main room of the suite still fully dressed. He sat back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression.
“Are you ready?” You asked, securing your towel under your arms.
“Yeah.” He turned his head and his eyes raked over your body before he motioned for you. “You can leave the towel there.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You sighed. “I’m not gonna stay and let you treat me like shit. There’s not that much kindness in the world, let alone in my heart.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“What are you gonna do?”
He stared silently.
“Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything, I want you to be nice.” If it had been any other situation you’d be more intentional about hiding the hurt in your voice.
“Why should I be nice?” His lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “Do you deserve it?”
Now you were silent and tight-jawed.
“I think I deserve one good night after all the nights I spent worrying about you after you left out of nowhere.” He waited a long time to continue—probably because he knew you had nothing to say. “Leave the towel there.”
You took a breath, contemplating for a moment before letting the material fall where you stood. You could’ve left. You wanted to leave, but you worried he’d let you go—just like he had let you go before. You worried that if you walked away it wouldn’t be three years.
It’d be forever.
He watched you the entire time you walked over, no doubt analyzing every detail of your appearance. When you reached him, he motioned for you to kneel and despite every fiber of your being screaming in protest—you did.
You focused on your hands in your lap instead of his eyes. You didn’t want to see that look in his eyes that you saw in every other man’s eyes.
You heard him shift before you felt him take your face in his hands. He tilted your head back and you finally met his gaze.
You waited but he didn’t do anything. He smiled. A gentle smile that seemed too out of place for the moment. “I love you.”
You wanted to cry but you hoped he couldn’t tell. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
He leaned forward then and kissed your forehead. He was silent again when he stood and you turned to watch him walk over and pick up the towel.
“Come on,” He said, holding it up for you to walk into.
You frowned. “What kind of game are you playing?”
“Can you just listen?” You didn’t move. “I’ll treat you nice, birdie. I promise.”
You stood and he wrapped you in the towel before leading you back into the bedroom.
“I’ll give you something to wear for the night,” He said, gesturing to the bed for you to sit.
You frowned but sat as he went into the suitcase by the closet and retrieved a worn shirt for you to sleep in.
“What?” He asked when you looked up at him. “Not your style?”
“…What’s happening?” You truly had no idea.
He turned to the mirror on the wall to adjust—admire—his hair. “We’re just having a good time, baby. Don’t worry.”
You refrained from complaining and slipped the shirt on. “Is this something you’re into?”
“What?”
“I mean…why do you want to fuck me in your ugly shirt?”
He laughed and checked you out in his shirt. “I think you’re cute.”
Cute? No one ever called you cute. “Are you okay? I’m genuinely asking.”
“Yeah, why?” You stared in disbelief as he crawled onto the bed and fell onto his back in a huff. “Where were you staying before Don picked you up?”
“He flew me out for the weekend but…I-I’ll probably head home after this.”
“Home?” He seemed surprised to hear that. “Where’s that?”
“If I tell you, are you gonna stalk me?”
“No. I don’t even believe you.”
You shifted in his direction, but he stopped you from straddling him and instead made you settle for his arm over your waist as you laid facing each other.
“Where was it again?” He reiterated, continuing his line of questioning
You sighed reluctantly. “Chicago.”
“Really?”
“Mhm…”
“Why there?”
“It's up and coming.”
“I’m sure you like it.”
“Why?”
“You like anything that’s up and coming.”
There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes but you pretended not to notice the innuendo. “It’s okay if I stay to myself.”
“That’s good, birdie. I’m happy for you.”
You were confused but you had a feeling he wanted you to be. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying anything.
“Will you stay tonight?”
“Why?” You wondered. “You don’t want anything to do with me.”
“Not true.”
“Then what is happening right now? Why don’t you want me?”
“This is how I want you.” He shrugged. “This is more important to me than fucking every waking minute of our every encounter.”
“Laying here losing brain cells is more important to you?”
“Getting to know you is more important to me, yes.”
You didn’t know what he was up to, but you felt like there was some kind of method behind all this. It felt all too intentional.
“What do you want me to do? Lay here until you fall asleep?” You asked, turning onto your back and crossing your arms. “I can lay here until you fall asleep. Easy.”
He snuggled closer and kept his arm over your torso. “The whole time, or until I fall asleep?”
“What do you want?”
“The whole time.”
“Easy.”
He seemed satisfied. “What do you do now, honey?”
“Nothing.”
“You bought a house off nothing?”
“I had savings.”
“I want the address before you go.”
“What? No. Why?”
“So I can send you things.”
“No…I’ll leave my number if you want.”
He sighed—unsatisfied.
“What’re you doing tomorrow?” You asked in the wake of his silence. He was happy that you were engaging in the conversation.
“Working.”
“That’s nice.”
“Will you stay with me for a few days? You can hang out with the guys while I’m on set and at night we could do our own thing.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Silence.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“Why can’t you stay?”
“Because~”
“You don’t want to?”
“I can’t.”
“I don’t understand why you insist on keeping this space between us like it matters anymore~”
“It matters to me.”
“You don’t know how to let anyone love you.”
“Sorry, I don’t have much practice.”
“I’m trying to show you.”
You laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“What do you want?”
“Stay and play house with me for a couple days. After that I’ll send you back to Chicago.”
Now you were silent.
“I’ve played your game for the last six years. You can’t play mine for a couple days?”
That changed things—that made it feel less like a commitment and more like a challenge.
“There’s that mischief in your eyes again,” Elvis said.
“You think you can top my game?”
“I’ve had some practice in the last few years.”
You enjoyed his confidence—he was so sure of himself.
“What do you say?”
“Game on.”
*
This is what he needed you to see.
He wanted you to see how much the world and the people around him desired him—his attention, his praise, his approval. He needed you to see that, while you ran away from his affection, others craved it. And for so many hours of your life you were forced to soak it all in.
Set tours, studio tours, special guest seating, special guest accommodations that no one needed or asked for. He must’ve told them you were the Queen of fucking England.
Every second you were away from him, you absolutely wanted to die—but you didn’t let it show.
The last thing you needed after a miserable day of pretending to give a shit about Seattle was to be swarmed by frenzied fans, yet there you were. He didn’t even try to avoid them. He walked right into the line of fire and struck up a conversation.
When he finally pulled himself away from the crowd you expected to be ushered the rest of the way to the car. However, he slipped his arm around your waist and went for a kiss. If it hadn’t been the first time his lips touched yours in the last three years you would have pushed him away.
Your first kiss in three years and he made sure there were a million people watching.
And to say the least, he didn’t look one bit surprised at the uproar of chaos erupting behind you. He actually smiled when you were finally behind the safety of the car door.
“You think that was funny?”
“It wasn’t too bad~”
“Kissing me in front of all those people, what were you thinking?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking that I wanted to kiss you so I did.”
You scoffed and looked out the window.
“I’m sorry, mama, I didn’t think you’d be upset.” He closed the space between you and put his arm around you. “When I see you, everything else fades away and it’s just us.”
“You should know by now that sweet lines don’t work on me.”
“They work on something.”
You pretended to not understand.
“You gotta be purring from all this excitement.” His voice was like gravel when he muttered those words. He watched you tense with a satisfied grin.
“What are you gonna do about it?” You regretted the question; it sounded less like an invitation in your head. “Actually, don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do anything about it.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not gonna fuck you in the back seat of my car.”
“I bet you’d change your mind if I…got you going first.” You placed a hand between his thighs. “Unless you’re too much of a big, Hollywood star to get your dick sucked in the backseat of your fancy car.”
“Stop.”
“Why? Can’t handle it?”
He cupped your chin in his hand and kissed the corner of your mouth. “Just be here with me, okay? Relax.”
You didn’t protest when he pulled you further into his side and sat back in his seat. “Did you go on any of the tours I set up for you?”
You shift into a more comfortable position and settled in as well. “Yeah, they were really nice.”
“I’m glad you got a chance to go.”
You didn’t know what to say. You never knew what to say.
“What’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed your panic.
“N-Nothing.”
“When we get to the hotel I’m gonna send you up first. I have to hang back and talk to some people.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes.”
A few hours. He’d only be a few hours. You didn’t know what could possibly have been taking him so long. At some point you attempted to escape the silence, only to discover the floor being blocked off.
“I’m sorry, miss, I can’t let you by.”
“Excuse me?”
“The floor’s already been secured. That means nobody in and nobody out for the rest of the night.”
“W-Well…if you just let me go, I won’t come back.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
“So, what—I’m trapped here?”
“The floor opens in the morning.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” You stormed back down the hall and into the room—throwing your purse down without caring about the contents splaying out onto the floor. You sat down on the bed in a huff, looking around the room. It was a bit mundane for Elvis. That’s when you knew that it wasn’t his room.
It was yours.
You went back into the hall to talk to the guards. “Which one of these is the Royal?”
“Last one on the end.”
You didn’t waste another minute before going over. You could hear the music from a few paces away and when you knocked, the door opened to a party. You were floored.
“Lottie?” Red asked in shock.
“Surprised to see me?” You forced a smile.
“What are you doing in Seattle? H-How’d you get past security?”
“I’m real good with people, Red. When they try to say ‘no’ it just comes out as ‘yes.’”
He flushed. “I-I’m sure Elvis would be thrilled to see you.”
“Is he here?”
“Yeah, I’ll go tell him you’re~”
“No. I want to surprise him.”
Red nodded. “He’s somewhere over there.”
You headed in the opposite direction—you weren’t looking for him anymore.
*
“Hey, baby, you okay?”
The man looked up upon hearing your voice but he looked around for who you were speaking to instead of responding.
“You.”
“Me?” He asked.
“Yeah, you,” You chuckled.
“O-Oh…yeah, I’m alright.”
“What’s your name?”
“…Joel.”
“It’s nice to meet you Joel.”
“Y-You too.”
You followed his gaze for a moment to where Elvis was sitting. “Why do you keep looking over there?”
“I-I thought you were Elvis’ girl.”
“‘Elvis’ girl’, ugh, don’t you hate the sound of that?”
He laughed, shifting towards you despite his nervous demeanor.
“How do you know Elvis?”
“Jerry’s my cousin.”
“Jerry?”
“Yeah.”
“Jerry’s your cousin?” You looked at him. “I don’t see it.”
“How do you know him?”
“It’s a long story,” You said dismissively. “I rather hear more about you.”
“T-There’s…there’s not much t-to hear.”
You pouted. “No interesting stories to tell?”
He shook his head.
“Do you want an interesting story to tell?”
“I-I…I don’t—I mean, I s-shouldn’t.”
“You shouldn’t?”
“No, you’re…y-you’re E’s girl.”
“Did we have this conversation already, or am I getting deja vu?”
“…You’re funny.”
“I’m funnier when I’m sitting down.” You didn’t wait for a response as you took his hand and led him with you—only doubling back for the rest of his drink when you noticed him leaving it. “You’re gonna want to finish this.”
You found a spot on the sofa that was pushed against the back wall. It was a bit cramped but you didn’t mind as much as Joel.
“Do you mind?” You asked, shifting towards him and resting your legs in his lap.
“O-Oh~”
“So, what do you, Joel?”
“Uhm…I used to sell cars with my dad.”
You pretended to care. "Then what happened?”
“He wanted me to go on the road with Jerry.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, stumbling over his words for a moment when you grabbed his wrist and lead his straw to your lips. “H-He said…he said, uhm, that h-he wanted me to know what it was like to be on my own.”
“You aren’t really on your own here, are you?”
“I don’t know…it seems like it sometimes.”
“I can see that.”
“How d-did you say you knew Elvis again?”
“Oh, I didn’t.”
He nodded. “I-I saw you earlier…t-together, so, w-we all thought~”
“You know what happens when you assume, Joel.”
“Yeah, but…”
“We’re just talking, baby.” You offered a reassuring smile. “There’s no harm in that.”
“Okay.”
“Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah.”
“If you could be doing anything else in the world what would you be doing?”
“I-I don’t know, why?”
You shrugged. “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
He swallowed. “What would you be doing?”
“…I think you know what I’m going to say.”
You couldn’t tell if the sweat on his forehead formed instantaneously or if it had already been there. You couldn’t help but enjoy the expression on his face. You weren’t sure what the emotions were, but you reveled in the conflict.
“Hey, Jo, man let me talk to you,” Jerry appeared suddenly, his voice cutting through your conversation and even starling you a bit.
“Y-Yeah?” Joel stood hurriedly, moving your legs in his rush to get up.
“Hi, Jer-bear,” You said. “I was just talking to Joel and he said he’s your cousin."
“He is my cousin.”
“He’s too cute to be your cousin.” You smiled at the way his face flushed. “And he’s sweet, unlike you.”
“E’s looking for you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, go find out.”
“I don’t like the way you said that.” You stood with a sigh. “Tell the guards to let me out of this hell hole.”
“I can’t do that.”
“What, are we all trapped here?”
“No, you’re free to go back to your room.”
“See, Joel,” You said looking at him. “You could never be this much of an asshole.”
“I-I’m gonna g-go,” He stammered before escaping.
“He wants you to go to him,” Jerry said. “I’m just the messenger, alright, so…”
“‘Alright, so,’ what?”
“So don’t call me an asshole.”
“Only an asshole can do whatever that asshole says, Jerry,” You said. “It’s not my fault the shoe fits.”
“Do I have to tell him you aren’t coming?”
“You don’t have to do anything. You’re your own man.”
He looked annoyed. “I’m just doing my job.”
“So am I.”
He frowned but you didn’t explain before turning on your heel and walking away.
You caught Joel’s eye again on your way out of the room but he quickly avoided your gaze. You tried not to laugh as you left the suite.
“I’m not even going to try with you bunnies again,” You called to the guard at the end of hallway. You noticed that only one stood in the place of the two before. “I’ll just go rot in my cell for the rest of the night. Until you let me go. How fucking stupid is that?”
“Sorry, lady.”
“Fuck you. You can’t tell a person they can’t leave on their own free will.”
“Everyone knew the floor was closing at midnight.”
“No one told me.”
“…sorry?”
You rolled your eyes and stopped to unlock your room door. “Do you know Elvis? D-Did you meet him?”
“Yeah,” The guard seemed through with you.
“What’d you think?”
“I don’t know, he’s a good guy.”
“Wrong,” You said. “He’s not a good person. He’s actually an asshole.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and he leaves girls alone for hours waiting for him and then he never actually shows up.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, then he makes sure not to tell the girl that she can’t leave after midnight. So she sits there until it’s too late and now she’s just a sitting fucking duck waiting around for the sun.”
“…sorry about that.”
“I think you should let me go.”
“Lady~”
“Vivian.”
“I'm sorry, Vivian, I’m just doing my job.”
“This really has nothing to do with your job.” You had left the door and started making your way towards him. “I’m really good about keeping secrets. I wouldn’t tell a soul it was you that let me by.”
“My partner’s gonna be back any minute.”
“Then let’s hurry.”
He laughed. “You should go to your room and sleep the night off.”
“I would its just that…”
“What?”
“I get real sick when I’m alone.”
“Sick how?”
“Sometimes…I think I’ll die.” You stopped in front of him and met his eyes. “It’s not good for me. That’s why you ought to let me by.”
“I can’t.”
“Well it’s either that or spending the night with me.”
“Birdie.”
You practically jumped a foot off the ground upon hearing his voice booming with such anger.
“Elvis, don’t~”
“What the fuck are you doing, huh?”
“Leave him alone~”
“You, shut up and get in the room,” He snapped, ushering you back that way. “You—you’re fucking fired, get out of my sight.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong~”
“Go.”
You released a stunned gasp when he grabbed your arm and drug you the rest of the way into the room. “What is the matter with you?”
“Me? What the hell is the matter with you?”
You weren’t sure how to respond to his anger when you were so upset yourself.
“I can’t believe you’re the one screaming right now,” You responded. “You left me here all night!”
“I told you that I had to talk to some people~”
“All night? It’s like you didn’t even consider the fact that you said you’d…” You noticed a certain expression on his face that made you stop. His disappearance tonight was intentional. You laughed humorously as you realized the situation you had unknowingly walked into.
He was going to leave you there all night to see if you’d stick around until the next day.
“What?” He wondered. He wanted you to confirm that you knew exactly what was going on
“Did you make your point?”
He shrugged. “Do you feel like shit?”
You wanted to cry. “Yep.”
“Then I guess I made my point.”
“I want to leave.”
“You can’t.”
“…Then you leave.”
“I will if you really want me to.”
“I really want you to.”
“Okay.”
You were shocked when he turned around and started toward the door.
“I want you to know,” You started, waiting for him to face you to continue. “I’ve never set out to intentionally hurt you. Ever. That’s not what I do, and it’s not something I tolerate from anyone—not even you. So…I hope you’re happy knowing that if you never see me again after tonight, it’s your fault.”
“Is that all?”
You forced down the yell that had threatened to erupt from your throat and you let your words die on your tongue. “…Good night, Elvis.”
“Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Only if I’m cold and stiff.”
That seemed to make his movements falter but he ultimately kept walking. “I guess I’ll see you in a few years then.”
“Don’t count on it.”
You weren’t shocked to find Jerry knocking on your door the next afternoon—doing his usual clean up.
“Can’t you just stay until the end of filming?”
“Why should he get whatever he wants?”
“When he gets whatever he wants, our lives are easier.”
“Jerry, I think you mean ‘when he gets whatever he wants, we all get whatever we want.’”
“All I know is that last week he didn’t even want to show up and this week he’s gotten there early everyday. I haven’t seen him this enthusiastic about anything in years and I honestly think you’re the reason.”
“I’ve only been here two miserable days.”
“I’m telling you, he’s different. He’s happier when you’re around, I noticed it back then too.”
“Well I’m not. It’s like fucking torture to me.”
“Because you’re not trying to meet him where he’s at.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing. He’s the one with zero regard for anyone’s feelings.”
“He’s been in love with you for six years and you’ve never seen him the same way. He did more than respect your feelings when you told him you were a whore~”
“I don’t think you even want to go there, Jerry.”
“He’s told me what you used to do for Ron~”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not judging you, it’s the honest to god truth. He’s protecting himself just like you have been all these years.”
“By treating me like shit?”
“By keeping you at arms length where you belong.”
*
You told Jerry that you’d stay but you didn’t hear from Elvis again until that night. He showed up so late that night you had already convinced yourself that he wasn’t coming and had resorted to crying your eyes out thinking he was officially done with you.
“Why’d you stay?” He spoke as soon as he entered, his voice booming in the silent room. He let the door swing shut behind himself and plopped down on the edge of the bed.
“I talked to Jerry.”
“You did?” He was shocked at the sight of your tears. “Hey…y-you’re crying. Since when do you cry?”
“Baby, I…Elvis,” You tried to force a steady tone as you sat up to speak. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” He shifted to face you. “I c-can’t believe you’re crying. How much did you drink?”
“I’m not drunk. I didn’t even go to the party.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, look, I…I don’t want you to think that I showed up here to hurt you. W-When I found out that Don was going to your party I-I thought that it meant something. I thought we could see each other again and I could make up for the way I left before.”
“Why?”
“Because, ever since everything happened with Ron, I’ve been trying to be different. I’m trying to be a better person.”
“…If I’m just a step on your path to becoming a better person then honestly~”
“That’s not~”
“No, I’m really glad you’re going on this journey of self discovery and everything but I don’t see how it involves me.”
“It involves you.”
“How?”
“Because I…I-I guess I love you.”
He pursed his lips. “You guess?”
“I know I do a-and I couldn’t live thinking you hated me for the way I left.”
“I do hate you for the way you left.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“If I forgive you will you disappear?”
“…Not if you don’t want me to.”
“Do you love me? Or is it a trick?”
“I’ve loved you since that night in Ohio.”
“You’re lying.”
“Do you really think I’d still be here if I were lying?”
“Then what’s been the point of this whole thing? The past six years? Do you get off on being miserable?”
“I’ve never…” You wanted to disappear.
“Uh-uh, don’t do that,” He snapped. “Don’t start fixing shit up in your head~”
“I’m not~”
“You look like you’re already a million miles away so you might as well go.”
“I’m here, Elvis, I’m right here.”
“Where do you want to be?”
“I want to be here with you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I’m sorry if I’m having a hard time believing you, Vivian—or is it Lottie, or Des, fucking Treasure and every goddamn thing else besides your actual name~”
“You know my name.”
“That’s not the point! The point is that you’re a liar, all you do is lie.”
“I’m trying to stop. It’s all I’ve known for the last thirteen years, I can’t break it that easily.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“You’re supposed to trust that I’m doing everything I can to be transparent with you. About everything.”
“Where are you from?”
“…N-North Carolina~”
“Lie.”
“I swear.”
“How’d you end up in Memphis?”
“That’s a question for my mama, Elvis. I don’t know.”
His jaw clenched and he shook his head.
“I’m telling you the truth,” You said. “Y-You can ask me anything. I-I mean…I’m trying, bunny, I really am.”
“How old are you really?”
“Oh, come on~”
“You said anything.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Do you really have a house in Chicago?”
“It’s a duplex.”
“And you’re there regularly?”
“As regularly as I can be.”
“What’d Jerry say to make you stay?”
“Nothing specific. He just made me feel like a piece of shit for being who I am…so pretty much the same thing you did, I guess.”
“You just can’t handle being called out on your bullshit.”
“You call it bullshit, I call it staying alive and sane.”
“You think you’ll go insane and die if you fall in love?”
“I’m already halfway there.”
Elvis chuckled and moved to sit next to you against the bed’s wooden headboard. “I want you to love me, birdie.”
“I do.”
“Then let it happen.”
“What if…I don’t know, what if you hurt me?” You tried to laugh but you were serious. “How do I know you aren’t going to keep punishing me?”
“I don’t want to punish you. I-I don’t want to trick you into loving me, I just want you to do it.”
“I do.”
“Say it.”
“What?”
“Just come out and say ‘Elvis, I love you. I want to be with you.’” You laughed. “I’m serious, let’s hear it.”
“Elvis, I love you. I want to be with you,” You repeated.
“I love you too, see?” He seemed content as he put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. He reached up to dry your remaining tears with the pad of his thumb. “You can be a good girl. You’re a sweet girl, I know you are.”
“Only for you.”
“I like that.” He kissed you gently, moving his lips slowly against yours. “Tell me you’re my girl.”
“You’re pushing it.”
He laughed. “Please?”
“I’m your girl, E.” You couldn’t make out his expression but you felt his breath catch as he kissed you again. “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” He whispered. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”
He convinced you to let him take you home to Chicago. You protested at first but gave in eventually. Mostly because he stopped believing you had a place.
“Go ahead. Call it a piece of shit.”
“No, it’s…it’s got good bones, I can tell.” He looked around. “At least it’s real.”
“A real piece of shit.”
He walked further into the house and you watched him closely. “How do you keep up with it?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“…I thought you said you were done with those games.”
“I am, it’s not that,” You said. “Ron helps out a lot, that's all.”
He looked confused. “You’re letting him pay your bills?”
“For now, until~”
“Why would you want any connection to him at all?”
“I don’t. But he said it was the least he could do after everything that happened.”
“He just wants control.”
“My mother asked him to, that’s the only reason he’s doing it.”
“What does he get out of it?”
“I don’t know, we don’t even talk directly—only through my mom.”
He shook his head. “You made it seem like you were doing better when you’re really in the exact same situation as the last time I saw you.”
“I am doing better.”
“How?”
“I don’t know…I feel better.”
“You don’t feel safe.”
“I never have.”
“Do you understand why I have an issue with that?”
“What do you want me to do? I didn’t know you were going to make me feel bad~”
“Don’t start weaponizing everything I say like you always do~”
“You make me feel bad for the way my life is, E. I’m not weaponizing anything, alright, it’s the way I feel.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do, I’m trying to tell you that there’s another way.”
The phone rang and you hesitated to answer.
“Pick it up.”
“No.” He moved to get it and you stopped him. “Okay, fine.”
He stood back as you answered the call, listening intently.
“Hello?” You avoided his eyes. “Hey, Arnie, how are you?”
You heard Elvis scoff.
“…No, I…I would, baby, but I don’t think I can make it to the airport tonight. I just got home from a long weekend.”
Elvis seemed to not be interested in the conversation anymore and opted for wandering down the hall.
“I’ll make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad at me…okay…you too. Bye.” You ended the call but left the phone off the hook. “Bunny?”
“Who the hell is Arnie?”
“I met him in New York. He’s a director.”
“Men just call and offer to fly you out places?”
“He likes when I come to his parties. He thinks it makes them more attractive.”
“He thinks you’ll be an easy target for his customers—I meant guests, sorry.”
“I don’t screw whatever walks like a duck, E, give me a break.”
“How many people have you screwed? Not even in your life, just in past three years.”
“You know just what to ask a lady.”
“You said I could ask anything.”
“If I’m being honest…four? Yeah, only four.”
“Including me or not?”
“Not.”
“Who were they?”
“I told you the number, do I really have to tell you who it was?”
“No, but I’ll assume and make an ass out of the both of us.”
“…You can’t really be upset, it was before I knew I’d see you again.”
That detail seemed to make him feel better. “Four people, huh?”
“Turns out I have a lot of friends. You’d be surprised how many of these guys just need someone to talk to.”
“You lead a lot of people on is what you’re saying.”
“It’s more fun playing the long game.”
“Which is why we’ve been doing this for six years?”
“I was hoping you’d get tired of me but you’re helpless.”
“I don’t give up when I really want something.”
“I’ve noticed.”
He sighed and looked around. “I want you to find a new place. Somewhere Ron can’t control you.”
“I was going to as soon as I saved up enough.”
“If you’re gonna let him pay your way you might as well let me do it.”
“Ron owes me.”
“Yeah, well don’t you owe me a little peace of mind after everything you’ve put me through?”
“I don’t even talk to him unless something out of the ordinary happens.”
“I’m not asking you to move in with me.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“I don’t know…I just want you out of here. I got a place up in California, you can stay there.”
“I’m starting to see what you mean when you say that I don’t listen to myself when I talk.“
“I think you living in Ron’s duplex is more insane than you living in my house.”
“I can’t just pick up and move to California.”
“You also can’t just decide to use logic whenever you feel like it. You’ve picked up and moved to a million different places since I’ve known you.”
“I like it here.”
“If you like it here you’ll love it there.”
You glanced off.
“Tell me what’s really stopping you.”
“It seems like we’d be spending a lot more time together if I did that.”
“Hopefully.”
“…I have this funny feeling you won’t like me as much once you get to know me.”
“We can take it as slow as you want, birdie. I’m not gonna be there every day. You’ll have all the space to do…whatever you want, I mean—y-you’re your own person, so…if you want to have people over, you can have them over—I-I don’t care.”
“Are you giving me permission to throw crazy parties at your house?”
“I’m just letting you know that I’m not trying to impede on your, I guess…y-your business.”
“Will you take the offer?”
“I’ll feel like I’m taking advantage~”
“I know you, birdie, come on.” He waved dismissively. “I want you to say yes so we can get a flight before the end of the night. I can’t stand the thought of sleeping under Ron’s roof.”
You laughed. “He’s never even stepped foot in this place.”
“Say yes, please,” He said, letting his voice drop. “I want to be able to sleep at night knowing that you’re safe.”
The phone rang within the moments that it was on the hook and Elvis picked it up with an aggravated sigh.
“What?” He stopped you when you tried to take the phone. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Elvis!” You were stunned when he hung the phone up and dialed the number to the airport.
“It’s true.” He shrugged and began conducting business. “…Yeah, Elvis Presley.”
You rolled your eyes when he held the phone up to your ear so that you could hear the overexcited reaction from the airport receptionist.
WC:4k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, domestic violence (no graphic details), painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is part three of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
“Hello?”
“H-Hi, is this…who is this?”
“This is Vernon, who’s this?”
“U-Uhm, this is—Elvis gave me this number and I was just trying t-to reach him.”
“Who is this?”
“Y/n.”
“Who?”
“Birdie.”
“Oh…just a second.”
You shivered, ducking further into the corner of the phone booth.
Elvis’ voice spoke abruptly when he picked up the phone. “Birdie?”
You sighed. “Is that you, bunny?”
“…Holyshit, it’s you.”
“Elvis?”
“W-What are you doing? Are you home? It’s been~ Where’s Ron? A-Are you still~”
“Elvis,” You said more firmly.
“Yeah?”
“I-I really~ I don’t know what to say, I-I’m really s-sorry t-to call like this~”
“What’s wrong? Are you home?”
“Yes, but…”
“Birdie? H-Hello?”
“I need you to come pick me up.”
“What?”
“I-I…I don’t know…” You were barely staving off a breakdown. “I’m s-so…I know I haven’t called, I haven’t been in town…I tried t-to stay away.”
“Where are you? Are you with Ron?”
“No, I haven’t been with him s-since…s-since she’s been back.”
“Who?”
“My mother.” You were sobbing but you didn’t notice. “I-I came back because I thought he s-said he…he told me he’d hurt her if I didn’t c-come back. I tried to stay away. I really wanted to stay away.”
“Where are you?”
“I w-was trying to protect her. I just wanted t-to protect her~”
“Baby, I can’t find you if you don’t tell me where you are.”
“You can’t find me?” There was an uptick of panic in your tone that made him rush to try and console you.
“I’m gonna find you, honey, I just need you to tell me where you are. Did you walk from Ron’s or what?”
“I g-got a ride, uhm…here, d-downtown, I was trying to…I was gonna keep walking but my leg…my leg isn’t right…”
“What do you see?”
“I see uhm…t-the loan office.”
“Lippman’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, baby, I’m gonna come up and get you. I need you to stay put—don’t go fluttering around.”
“M-My leg…”
“I’m on my way. Stay right there.”
He was there in record time. Or perhaps you were in such a state of delirium and dissociation that the minutes went by effortlessly. It was late and the streets were nearly deserted, making it easy for him to rush towards you without being bombarded. He was out of the car before it stopped moving fully, running towards the phone booth with an expression as worried as the last time you saw him.
“Birdie,” He said when he snatched open the door of the booth. You reached for him the moment he was close enough to hold onto and he took you in his arms. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Let me look at you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s not good.”
“Okay…okay, Jerry, help me get her out of here.”
You felt lifeless when he lifted you out of the booth. All the pain had gone numb and you finally felt safe enough to close your eyes.
“Should we get her to a hospital?” Jerry’s voice asked.
“No, please.” You didn’t notice your grip tighten around Elvis as you begged them not to involve anyone else.
“J-Just…no, just straight to the house.” He wanted you to go to the hospital, and it scared you to think that you looked bad enough to need medical attention. “I’ll get somebody to come check on her once we get her cleaned up…it might not be as bad as it looks.”
“Her leg…”
You cringed, remembering the pain but not feeling it anymore.
“W-We’ll fix it. It’s fine, she’s fine. Y-You’re okay.”
Their voices grew muddled and soon you drifted off into darkness.
*
You woke in a cold, dim room. Your body ached and when you shifted you discovered an IV hooked onto your arm. Your eyes hurt and you struggled to focus.
“Birdie? Honey, a-are you awake?”
“…Elvis?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”
“How?”
“You called me. You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No, just…my leg.”
“They said you had a pretty good sprain, nothing seems broken o-or out of place.”
Everything about you felt broken and out of place.
“How’d it happen?”
“I-I had to jump…to get out of m-my room. I jumped out t-the window, so…turns out birdie can’t fly.”
“…This ought to help with the pain.” He wanted to say something else but he didn’t. You felt him place an object in your hand before instructing you to press the button. “Whenever you’re in pain you just press that. Pretty nifty stuff.”
You appreciated his attempt at humor despite the tragedy before him. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t~”
“I’m so sorry, Elvis.”
“I’m glad you called me.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Well…lucky for you I don’t know how to hold a grudge.”
“I’m gonna get out of here as soon as~”
“I don’t want to hear any of that right now. You just focus on getting better, then you can…run for the hills, I guess.”
There was an undertone of sadness behind his words.
“I wasn’t supposed to ever come back here. I was free. I-I was really free, n-not like before, I was really on my own out there…”
“It’s okay, honey.”
“He found me all the way in Detroit.”
“He won’t find you here.”
“Where are we?”
“My room.”
“Graceland?”
“Yeah, where else?”
You scanned the room, squinting against the pain behind your eyes. “It’s too cold.”
He laughed. “Is that your only criticism?”
“Yeah.”
“…You really scared the shit out of me. I was this close to taking you to the hospital.”
“It looks like the hospital came to me.”
“They didn’t get here til this morning.”
“It’s okay, E.”
“You were in pain all night.”
“I’m not anymore.”
“If I ever lay eyes on that motherfucker, I’ll kill him.”
“Please~”
“It's not good that I know where he lives, nothing’s stopping me.”
“I can’t handle hearing that.”
“It’s true.”
“I know but I don’t want you to go there. I want you to forget this even happened, it’s humiliating.”
“When I look at you I don’t see anything worth being humiliated about. I see a little girl that got beat like a grown man.”
You closed your eyes, warding off the memories—it was all too fresh. “I can’t…”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck,” He swore to himself at the sight of your tears. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“I wish you didn’t have to.”
There was a sudden knock on the door and Jerry walked in, retracting when he saw that you were awake. “Oh, she’s…”
You averted your gaze—embarrassed.
“She’s alright, Jer,” Elvis reassured him.
“Alright, well…let me know.”
“I’ll let you know,” Elvis said, and he was gone. “He’s been just as worried as me. He saw you last night—before the doctor got to you this morning.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.”
“I can’t believe this is how you see me after all these years.”
“I’ve been waiting to see you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m always waiting.” He fell silent. You wondered what he wanted you to say. “Did you get any of my letters?”
“Yeah, I got them.”
He frowned. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you reply?”
“I don’t know…I couldn’t find any stamps.”
He stopped meeting your eyes. “So you know?”
“The whole world knows.”
“It’s nothing serious~”
“I don’t care if it is. I’m happy you’re happy.”
“You don’t care?”
He wanted you to. He wanted you to and he couldn’t hide it. “Of course not. What’s she like?”
“…She’s a good person.”
“That’s good.” You tried to smile. “Do you love her?”
“I don’t know.”
You nodded. “You should try to.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s hard to find good people in the world now.”
“You’re never usually that pessimistic.”
“I wonder what happened to all my optimism.”
His smile was soft in the dim lightning. “You’re a good person.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
“This persona you created doesn’t disguise everything.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I think if you had somewhere safe to go you wouldn’t be so all over the place. You could be yourself.”
“I’m myself everywhere I go.”
“I think you’re more yourself with me than anyone else.”
“You have no idea who I am, do you realize that?”
“Why’d your mother go back to Ron?” He knew you’d be caught off guard by the question.
“I-I don’t know…” You shook your head. “I don’t care, i-it has nothing to do with me.”
“You didn’t call.”
“You’re really grilling me, here~”
“I haven’t seen you in two years~”
“I know, but still~”
“I have questions.”
“I know.” You sighed. “What’s your question?”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I dialed the number a million times…I-I just—I don’t know, I kept talking myself out of it.”
“Why?”
“I thought you’d forget about me if I stayed away.”
Elvis nodded but you couldn’t tell if he understood. “I fixed up a room for you. I-I wanted you here until you w-woke up but I thought y-you’d want your own space while you’re here.”
You were eager for the opportunity to escape and that was it. You had enough common sense to know that you couldn’t go anywhere until your leg healed enough, but as soon as it did—and when he least expected it—you’d leave. Hopefully blowing his life up for the last and final time.
“Why’d you do that?” He wondered in the wake of your silence.
“What?” You asked.
“It’s like you…went inward, or something.” He waited for you to respond. “What’re you thinking?”
“Mostly just about having to piss with this thing on my leg,” You said, gesturing at the brace halfheartedly. “I’ll figure it out though. I’m ready to move to the other room.”
“It’s no rush~”
“I want to get out of your way.”
The transport was nothing short of mortifying and you almost wanted to walk on the sprain to save yourself the humiliation of being carried. Once in the guest bedroom you quickly dismissed him.
“Don’t let me keep you.”
“Why’re you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m tired…”
“Okay.” He didn’t want to leave. “Don’t forget to press the button if you’re in pain.”
“Got it.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Not really.”
“Alright. I’ll check on you later.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“…Alright.”
*
[ ] Spend the days avoiding Elvis.
[ ] Spend the nights with avoiding with Elvis.
[ ] Spend the afternoons avoiding Elvis.
[ ] Find a gun and blow your brains out.
[✓] All of the above.
*
“What are you doing? You ain’t s’pose to be walking around without the brace.”
“You’re gonna have to turn around and knock before you start talking to me~”
“I’m not knocking on my own doors in my own house.”
“I’m gonna start locking it.”
“No you aren’t.”
“Do you know how exhausting it is having to beg you to leave me alone?”
“Do you know how exhausting it is having to ignore you?”
You winced when you shifted onto your leg and Elvis rushed to help you balance.
“See?” He chastised.
“I got it,” You insisted.
“You’re gonna make it worse.”
“It’s a sprain. You’re supposed to walk them off.”
“You can’t even stand on it.”
“I was doing fine before you barged in here.”
He helped you sit down on the edge of the bed and you let him. Despite your determination to put a rush on your recovery, you were still in a lot of pain.
“It’s more swollen than it was yesterday,” He had said upon kneeling down to examine your injury.
“No it isn’t.”
“It is too. Look~”
“Elvis!”
“That hurt?”
“Yes that hurt, jackass.”
“Hey, alright, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Alright. Let me see.”
You sighed but let him take your ankle into his hands. He carefully bent your knee, stopping when he noticed you grimace.
“It still needs time.”
“Don’t look so thrilled about it.”
“I’m not.”
“You’d probably chop it off if it meant I was stuck here longer.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yeah.”
“If I thought you were really stuck I wouldn’t be checking every hour to see if you’re still here.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Oh, sure you can.”
He shrugged and returned to examining your foot.
“What are you doing?” You snapped halfheartedly—pushing him away. “I won’t walk on it, alright?”
He stood to sit next to you on the bed. He kissed your cheek and you found yourself smiling at the gesture before shying away from his touch.
“I was about to go to sleep,” You lied. “You should have gotten here sooner.”
“I would’ve if I had the chance.”
“It’s too late now.”
“Can I say good night at least?”
“Go ahead and say it.”
He laughed. “Come on, birdie. I been thinking about you all day.”
“What about me?”
“I-I don’t know, j-just…about you in general.”
It was your turn to laugh.
“Don’t make me go,” His voice dropped and he kissed your shoulder. It was the same thing every night. You weren’t sure if you should call it a routine. That would imply that you had fallen into expecting him, and you were very careful about not having any expectations. Expectations were for idiots.
You weren’t an idiot. Knowing that he would show up and expecting him to were two different things entirely. You knew he’d kiss your cheek and say sweet things until you ultimately reached for his belt. That didn’t mean that you were expecting him to.
He wouldn’t fuck you. Despite your many attempts at convincing him that it was fine, he didn’t want to hurt you—so he refused. You could tell that there was something about the situation that turned him on, you just didn’t know what it was.
Maybe he liked the way you begged for more. Maybe it made him feel in control and it was the only time he’d ever see that look on your face—the only time he’d hear you beg him for anything. It didn’t matter why, all that mattered was that it made him more eager to show you all the ways that he could make you fall apart.
You knew that no matter how much control you let him have, once you had his dick in your hand you quite literally had him back in the palm of your hand. He moved with you, he anticipated you—he let you know that he was there for you.
It was sweet that he truly believed that he was there for you.
Making him come wasn’t the same as making other men come. It felt less like an obligation and more like a game of strategy. He was easy and quick and if you twisted your wrist far enough to the right on your upstroke he’d brace himself instantly and the night would be over just like that. In your mind, the quicker he came, the faster he went and the less he’d want to stay. The objective was always to make sure that each night grew shorter and that each encounter lasted less time. Even if it meant shaving off mere seconds, you had to be quicker—more precise.
As he prepared to leave, you turned onto your side and grabbed one of the magazines you’d requested from downstairs. You flipped through the pages lazily, focusing more on the sound of his clothes shuffling back on than the words and images.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
You smiled. “Sure.”
He knew not to kiss you goodnight.
*
You had tried to avoid this situation. You felt guilty enough about your late nights with Elvis without having to face the girl he snuck back into bed with every morning.
You didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for yourself or for her. It wasn’t her fault that you couldn’t leave and stay gone. You were the fuck up, not her.
Had you been able to recall any other number that night you would’ve called it, but you could only think of him. If you had been able to think of anyone else at that moment, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
“You’re Birdie, right?”
The sound of that name leaving her lips made you want to frown—but you smiled. “I have no idea why he calls me that. My name is D-Des…”
“Des?”
“Yep, short and sweet.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too.”
“It looks like you’re doing a lot better. Elvis was really worried about your leg.”
“Yeah, I’m…It’s getting easier.” You didn’t want to alert anyone to your improvement, you wanted them to think you still needed time.
“If there’s anything I can do for you~”
“I should be fine, really.”
She nodded and you thought you saw her shift uncomfortably. “…H-He~ I can tell he cares a lot about you.”
There was a conversation that she wanted to have and your response determined whether or not you’d let her take you down that road. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s just…he’s been so worried about you these past few weeks and h-he won’t eat. He doesn’t sleep because he’s checking on you every hour and I…I can’t help but notice.”
“I’m sorry if I did anything to make you think~”
“No, it’s not your fault. I just wish he’d open up to me about it. I-I mean, he hasn’t told me anything about you. He wouldn’t even tell me your name.”
You stopped yourself from telling her that he truly knew short of nothing about you—he knew less about you now after two years of not laying eyes on you. “I don’t know why.”
“Where’d you meet him?” She seemed genuinely curious.
“I don’t even remember, it was so long ago.”
“O-Okay~”
“I’m gonna head back to bed. Can’t overuse this thing.” You motioned to your leg with a forced laugh. “It was nice seeing you around.”
“You too, Des.”
“Oh, yeah.” You stopped short and faced her. “That’s where I’ve seen you.”
She looked confused. “I’m sorry?”
“You were in the paper with Elvis in LA just a few weeks ago,” You said. “I knew you looked familiar.”
“I-I…I didn’t go with him to LA.”
“You didn’t? He was in the paper with a girl that looked just like you.”
“Oh…no, i-it wasn’t me.”
“Hm, I guess I have you confused with someone else.” You shrugged indifferently. “See you around then.”
You didn’t see Elvis until you were on your way downstairs the next night. You’d learned to make your presence scarce, and you only left your room when it was necessary. So when you ran into him during the late hour, it had to have been intentional.
“What?” You asked when he didn’t speak.
“I’m waiting for you to disappear.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been walking on that leg for a week now.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
He caught your arm as you passed and made you face him. “Did you tell her I didn’t know your name and that I was in the paper with another woman?”
“Why would I tell her that?”
“I don’t, Des, why would you tell her that?”
You had to hold back a smile as you feigned confusion. “What?”
He pointed. “I see that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“You’re up to no good.”
You shrugged with an indifferent expression. “I really don’t know what you mean.”
“If you’re gonna disappear can I at least know when you do?”
“Elvis, you’ve come and gone to three different states in the past three weeks and each time you’ve come back I’ve been here.”
“So what?”
“So, I don’t know why you think I’d wait until you were home to leave. I could’ve left last week while you were in Texas.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because, it’s not fair.”
“To who?”
“To you.”
“Like you give a shit what’s fair to me,” He laughed.
“I do. You’re the only real friend I have in the world.”
“I’m your friend?”
“Of course.”
He looked off. “I keep picturing you out there by yourself…it’s keeping me up at night.”
“I’ve always been on my own.”
“I know, but you said before that no matter where you went you knew you could always come home. A-And without Ron~”
“I don’t need Ron~”
“I can’t help but feel like you’re worse off constantly on the run with nowhere to go.”
“You make it sound so much worse than it actually is.” You rolled your eyes dismissively. “I have my ways of staying safe and getting from place to place like everyone else~”
“I understand, honey, but I don’t want that for you.”
You felt yourself slipping. “…I-I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be stuck here watching you play house every day.”
“Then…I-I’ll send her home.”
“My god, you’re horrible.”
“She was only supposed to be here a couple weeks anyway.”
“I can’t believe you’d even consider something so despicable.”
“She has somewhere to go, you don’t.”
“I have somewhere to go.”
“Where?”
“It’s a big world, I’ve made a lot of great friends. I’ll just…I’ll pick.”
His expression fell flat. “Do you ever actually hear any of the insane shit you say?”
“Do I sound insane?”
“All the time.”
Sonny appeared on the stairs but stalled when he saw the two of you. “Oh, sorry. Hey, Lottie.”
“Hey, baby,” You responded. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You look good as new.”
“I am good as new. I was just telling Elvis that I was headed out in the morning.” You didn’t meet his eyes when you felt him look at you.
“Oh,” Sonny said, stopping short on his way back down the stairs. “You got the ticket?”
“Yeah, two of ‘em,” You said. “D’you want one? I can show you a good time.”
“Yeah, right,” He laughed.
“Sonny, man, do you mind?”
“Sorry…” He left with a halfhearted wave.
You met Elvis’ eyes—you didn’t want to, but you did. “What?”
“Lottie?”
“Not my best work, I know. But I used to have this friend named Charlotte and she~”
“You were just gonna leave?”
“No, baby, I came to tell you.”
“If Sonny ain’t walk by you wouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
“How do you know?”
“Who’s the extra ticket for?”
“You’re asking that before asking where I’m headed?” You tsked. “You’re losing your touch.”
“Where are you headed?”
You smiled and he got that aggravated expression on his face. “Go ahead. Guess.”
“The moon?”
“Close. New York.”
“What’s in New York?”
“Buildings and streets and~”
“Fuck, birdie, you know what the hell I mean.”
“You’re getting antsy.”
“Because you’re working on my last damn nerve.”
“You better be quiet, your girl may hear you.”
“Who’s the extra ticket for?”
You leaned in as if to tell him a secret. “There is no extra ticket.”
He pushed his tongue into his jaw.
“I just wanted to make you shake your leg one more time before I left.”
The anxious trembling of his right leg halted as he became aware of it and you laughed.
“You screw around with Sonny?”
As tempted as you were to play into the question you knew he’d never believe you if you tried to take it back. “Of course not.”
“Who do you screw around with in the house?”
“As of tomorrow, not a soul.”
“As of right now.” His tone was stern.
“As of right now…only you, bunny.”
He had a familiar expression behind his eyes but you chose to ignore it.
“Good night,” You said before attempting to exit down the stairs.
“No…” He surprised you by pulling you into his arms. It was an unnatural moment for the two of you. It wasn’t the most sexual position you’d been in but it still felt too intimate.
“Stop.” You tried to push him away. “You’re getting too soft.”
“I love you.”
“Elvis~”
“I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it, I do.”
“Well…” You waited a moment before finally hugging him back. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Stay.”
“Why are you trying to break my heart?”
“You keep breaking mine.”
“I’m trying to stop.”
“I don’t want you to. The pain’s the only thing that feels real when you leave.”
“Have you always been this melodramatic?”
“I wish I could do what you do. I can’t make myself…stop feeling.” His words hurt, but you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t an emotionless robot—you felt things even when you didn’t want to.
“Come on, let me go,” You said in a light hearted manner, pushing him away playfully.
“How long do you plan on staying in New York?” He kept his arms around your waist as he spoke, looking down at you.
“A while.” You could tell he didn’t believe you. “You can always take the extra ticket, y’know?”
“I thought you said~”
“Elvis?”
You turned your head when you heard her voice but Elvis stopped you when you tried to move away.
“I’m coming, baby, go back in the room.”
You couldn’t meet her eyes, you didn’t want to see the hurt that would obviously be there. You punched Elvis in the chest after hearing the door shut.
“What was that for?”
“Fuck you.” You glared up at him when he finally let you go.
“What?”
“That girl is in love with you.”
“She’s fine.”
“I don’t want her to hate me.”
“Why do you care how she feels about you?”
“I don’t live to make people hate me.”
“I know what you live for.”
“Really?”
“You live for driving people fucking insane by making them fall in love with you every where you go.”
You rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to say?”
“Will you let me send you with something?”
“No.”
“I don’t want you out there empty handed~”
“You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll just go find a rich man and have him fall in love with me. That’s what I live for, right?”
“Birdie~”
“That’s not my name.”
His jaw tightened but you ignored his aggravation.
“Go get your girl,” You said, preparing to walk away—you were surprised to not hear a single protest as you did so. Although it didn’t show, every step hurt like hell.
“Hey, Lottie.”
“Hey, baby, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Where ya headed?”
You smiled at Charlie and held a finger to your lips. “It’s a secret.”
He didn’t question you any further as you picked a random coat from the rack by the door and slipped it on. You tried not to think about the uneasy feeling settling in your gut. It was a feeling that you’d gone too long without feeling—now it was unfamiliar. You walked as far as your legs would carry you before trying to find a familiar place to stop for a ride. It was dark enough for you to stay hidden in the shadows until you made it downtown.
“Yo, Treasure, is that you?”
You almost shouted in relief. “Chuckles?”
He laughed. “When you get home?”
“I’ve been here.”
“You tryna get a ride?”
“Yeah, where’re you headed?”
“Just back to the house.”
“I-I was hoping to get to the train station by tomorrow morning.”
“I can get you there by tomorrow morning.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, get in.”
You climbed into the car after he reached over and opened the passenger door. “I don’t know how to thank you, Chuck.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
You knew then that he wasn’t planning on giving you a free ride. You settled into your seat and tried to mentally prepare for the night ahead.
WC:2k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: this is part two of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“That’s strike three. I’m getting too good at bending my own rules.” You got deja vu as you shut the door. The room was the same, the walls had collected more dust and the shelf in the corner had finally collapsed, but it was the same.
“BB said you w-were in Missouri.”
“I don't know why he said that.”
“I-I have y-your, uhm…” He retrieved the compact, fumbling around for it in his pocket before holding it out to you. “Y-Your little mirror.”
“Oh, I forgot all about it.” You’d thought about it every day, wondering if he’d been keeping up with it or if he’d lost it somewhere along the way.
“I’m sure he told you, b-but, I-I’m getting sent away soon.”
“Germany, right?” You tried on an optimistic tone. “You’re gonna love it.”
“You been?”
“It’s beautiful this time of year, the snow and everything…” You turned to hoist the window open, hoping to let some air into the room. You could hear the commotion in the street when you finally got it up. Elvis stepped back into the corner, hiding in the darkest shadows of the room to avoid being spotted.
“What were you doing in Germany?” He asked.
“I don’t know. Cigarette?”
“No, thanks.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“No.”
“Muscle relaxer? They work like a charm.”
“Do I seem tense?”
“Of course not, bunny.” You stepped in front of him and put your hands on his shoulders.
He put his arms around your waist and you relaxed into the casual embrace. “How have things been with Ron? I stopped calling when BB told me he was giving you a hard time~”
“Let’s not talk about Ron, right now, okay?”
“Where did you go after I left you in Ohio?”
“I got a ride.”
“From who?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I can’t ever picture you doing anything. When you disappear it’s like you stop existing.”
“Elvis,” You chuckled.
“If I don’t come here and talk to BB I feel like you aren’t real.”
“Why do you need to know that I’m real?”
“Because I…I-I love you too.”
Your stomach dropped. You had hoped he’d avoid the topic or wait for you to bring it up—which you had no intention of doing.
“E-Elvis…” You cleared your throat. “I play a lot of games, and I know we have a pretty good one going but…I-I don’t think it’s a good idea to get too attached to me.”
His eyes hardened and he looked like a different person. This person took a long time to respond and you began to miss the gentle eyes he had before. “You think this is a game?”
“It’s fun, right?”
“Telling me you love me was a game?”
“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, bun~”
“Cool it with the stupid nicknames, alright, it’s fucking~”
“Shh~”
“No, I’m not gonna be quiet~”
“Elvis.” You let him push you away, watching him pace a few steps.
He faced you and the shadows made him look angrier than he really was. “Why’d you even show up here?”
“BB called me.”
“And said what?”
“He said that you were here blowing up his spot and he wanted me to talk to you so he could stop boarding up his windows every night.”
“He never said anything to me about that.”
“Because he cares about you.”
“If he cared about me he would’ve told me that I was just one of your tricks.”
“You’re not.”
“What makes me different? You were gonna kiss up to me all night then go home and crawl in bed with Ron, right? Just like every other sucker you run into.”
“Don’t pretend to have a clue about anything I do.”
“I have no clue, no one in the world has a clue. BB’s your goddamn cousin and he doesn’t even know where you grew up.”
“He tells people that because we’re close. Like play cousins.”
“You aren’t close to anyone except Ron~”
“I’m sorry I made you upset, Elvis, that’s not what I want. Alright?” You weren’t sure how to salvage the night, but you had made a promise to BB so you tried. “Baby, I want to make you happy before you leave. Don’t you want that?”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t stop you when you took his face in your hands.
“Don’t you want to feel good?”
“Stop playing the game.” His voice was a whisper.
“I’ll do whatever you want. I’m here for you, bunny. That’s all I’m here for.”
“This is…T-This feels disgusting.” For the first time since he’d met you, he saw a break in your resolve.
“I-I don’t…” You sighed and threw your hands in defeat. “I don’t know what you want from me if you don’t want this.”
“Is this the shit that you do?”
“Elvis, I’m trying to~”
“Is this what he has you do for him?”
You felt exposed—like there was nothing surrounding you.
“You said he takes care of you, well in exchange for what?” He already knew the answer.
“…If you don’t want to have a good time then I’m leaving.” You panicked when he grabbed you and struggled against him—swinging your free arm with as much strength as you could muster. He relinquished his grip immediately, opting for blocking his face. “Don’t touch me like that. Do you hear me?”
“I’m sorry~”
“Don’t fucking grab me like that~”
“I won’t, alright, fuck. Just don’t leave.”
“Why should I stay? For you to interrogate me some more?”
“I didn’t mean to pry, honey, I just…fuck, I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what this just turned into o-or what it always was—I just don’t know.” You believed him.
“…BB’s paying Ron for me to be here, so…whatever you’ve been wanting now’s the best time because who knows when you’ll get another opportunity~”
“See? Stop, alright, that’s what I’m saying. What do you mean he’s paying him?”
“You know the game now, you might as well play.”
“I don’t want to. I’m not interested. Alright? I mean, for fuck sakes, do you even want to be here? H-How many people have you slept with tonight?”
Suddenly, you felt like crying. You knew why but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. You didn’t want to acknowledge the underlying disgust behind his tone because that would mean having to admit that he was in fact disgusted by you. It would mean having to admit that most people are or would be disgusted by you. You didn’t typically have to admit or acknowledge those things, and so you never did. Instead, you picked your purse up from the ground and prepared to leave.
“Don’t go,” He insisted.
“I’m sorry that I’m not the person you thought I was. But I won’t stand here and be degraded for things I have no control over.”
“Is he forcing you?”
“No. I like it.” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore and you stepped into the light to hide them—you knew he wouldn’t follow. “I like t-the freedom and money and it’s w-what I’m good at, so…”
“I’m not degrading you. I-I’m worried about you, honey, y-you’re…you’re just a little girl.”
You felt an odd sense of relief at his words. For once it seemed like someone was allowing you to be something other than what Ron had molded you into—you didn’t feel the need to pretend.
“How much did BB pay? I-I’ll give it back.”
“You don’t have to…I ruined your night.”
“No you didn’t.” Suddenly his hands were on your shoulders and while you didn’t feel the immediate urge to recoil, you rushed to push him away.
“Elvis, don’t. Someone might see~”
“I don’t care.” You let him stay. “How’d you get caught up with Ron?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll never see me the same.”
He wasn’t silent for long, but it felt like an eternity. “I didn’t know you were playing a game when I told you I loved you.”
“So?”
“So, I meant it. And telling me won’t change that,” He promised.
You tried to take a deep breath but there was still hardly any air in the room. “…He married my mother when I was younger.”
You could’ve imagined it, but you thought you felt him tense. “What happened to your mother?”
“She got away.”
“She left you?”
“Yeah, she’s…I don’t know where she is.”
“How old are you?”
You hesitated, you shouldn’t want him to know. You were careful to never reveal even the slightest detail of your life to anyone. But this was different—he was different. “…Nineteen.”
“How long have you been doing this?” His voice was clearer than it had been all evening, suddenly it felt like he had the upper hand.
“He lets me come and go when I do this. I feel freer when I can leave and do whatever I want~”
“That wasn’t my question~”
“I know that at the end of the day, if it's all accounted for, I can always go home. That's the way it is, that's the way it’s always been.”
“He’s taking advantage of you.”
“I’m not a little girl.” You pushed his hands off of your shoulders and faced him. “Like I told BB, things are good. Things were good before you.”
“Are they not now?”
“No, because he’s sick of hearing about Elvis Presley. You call a million times and send me gifts and expect him not to give me shit about it?”
“You said he didn’t care.”
“He doesn’t care, Elvis. No one cares, so why do you?”
“No one in their right mind would be okay with what you just described.”
“BB paid your bill tonight and didn’t bat an eye, wanna know why? Because it’s business. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble if you chose to see it that way.”
“I refuse to see it that way.”
“Then enjoy being miserable.” You made to leave but he stopped you—this time with a gentler hand.
“How much for a night?”
“Don’t worry about paying BB back, he doesn’t need your money.”
“How much?”
“…$20.”
“If I sent you back with $60 would you come with me for a few days?”
“That’s the way the game works.”
“Then come back with me.”
“You’re twisting the rules to your advantage.”
“You said yourself that you were getting good at bending the rules.”
“My bending the rules and your bending the rules aren’t the same.”
“How so?”
“Because, E…I know how not to fall in love.” He looked devastated as you stood up on your tip toes to leave a kiss on his cheek. “I won’t see you again.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice was quieter. “I-I’ll pay, birdie, I’ll p-play the game.”
“You said you weren’t interested.”
“I’m interested in being near you for as long as I can be before you disappear and it feels like this never happened.” He huffed. “I’ll do $70.”
“No~”
“$80, $100~”
“It’s not about the money, Elvis. You could give him a million dollars—he’s still gonna want to hear from me by the end of the week.”
“What’s he gonna do if you don’t show up?”
Your expression must’ve said something you didn’t because the crease between his eyebrows was there again—but this time it wasn’t because he was angry.
“I can’t stand that look you get when you think about him.”
“What look?”
“Like you’re scared of him.”
“I am scared of him.” The confession shocked you the same as it shocked him. You hadn’t admitted it before to yourself or to anyone else how much fear had been instilled into you from an early age.
“Please, come back with me.”
“You’re leaving soon~”
“You’ll be safe at Graceland.”
“I can’t explain why, E, but I…I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“How will I know if you’re okay?”
“You won’t know.”
“I-If…” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “If I sent letters here would you stop by sometimes to pick em up?”
You shrugged. “I’m usually in town every Saturday.”
“Oh, now you tell me?”
You bit back a smile. “You’ll forget all about me when you get over there. You’ll see.”
“No I won’t. The whole time I’m gonna be trying to get back here to you.”
“You might see me there, you never know.”
“You haven’t actually been to Germany have you?” He asked.
“No, but you believed me, didn’t you?”
“You lie too good. It’s scary.”
“It keeps you wondering.”
He did that thing where he looked at you like he was trying to engrave the vision of you onto his retinas and you smiled fully. “Promise you’ll stop by for the letters.”
“I promise.”
“Swear.”
“I swear.”
“…I still don’t believe you.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
He sighed and looked off.
“We don’t have to do anything,” You said, rubbing his shoulder. “W-We can just…talk about Germany if you want.”
He nodded and you moved to find a comfortable enough spot to sit down in. He joined you on the old wooden floorboards and crossed his legs.
“Are you okay?”
“…No.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind him. “I’m scared.”
“Of Germany?”
“Of everything.”
You nodded. “What can I do?”
He shook his head and you understood. You moved closer and laid on his shoulder.
“No matter what happens, bun, you gotta know that it’s gonna be okay. They can take whatever they want. They can’t have your soul. That’s yours. It’ll always be yours, even after this. You’ll see.”
“Do you think they’ll remember me?”
You listened to the frenzied fans through the window for a moment and laughed:
“I think they’re going to make sure everyone remembers you, baby.”
WC:3k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions—all reader’s welcomed
When you saw him watching, you couldn’t help but put on a show. He didn’t seem like the type of man to approach a woman; you imagined he wouldn’t have had to do so often. Instead, he watched you move around the crowded lounge for over half an hour. He smiled softly whenever you caught his eye but otherwise only looked when you weren’t. At one point you had moved to the opposite side of the room and you thought you’d lost him. But when he managed to find you, you managed to find it in your heart to put him out of his misery.
He spoke first when you were close enough to hear him over the band. “You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
“Dancing.”
You laughed. “You’re good at watching.”
“What’s your name?”
“What?”
“Your name?”
You pretended not to be able to hear him over the music and offered to go upstairs to talk some place quieter. He hesitated and although you wondered why, you didn’t question it. You managed to get through the dense crowd without losing each other and you guided him upstairs.
“Yo, Treasure.” You found a familiar face lingering by the staircase.
“Chuck, baby, why am I not surprised to see you here?”
“You can’t be more surprised than me,” He said. “You look good.”
“You look the same as when I saw you last.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“He doesn’t have a name yet.” You smiled and continued up the stairs with your new friend in tow.
“Your name’s Treasure?” He asked.
“It is for Chuck.”
“What is it for me?”
You thought for a moment. “…Birdie.”
“Why ‘birdie?’”
“Have you ever seen a bird stay in one place for more than a few seconds?”
“No.”
“Exactly.” He was still confused. “I’m saying that I refuse to stay still.”
“You refuse?”
“Yeah.”
“…I struggle keeping still myself.”
“I guess we’re the same.”
He stepped towards you whenever you stepped back, keeping the space between you minimal. “Do you live around here?”
“I’m not from here.”
“Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.”
“W-What’s that mean?”
“I sorta go wherever I want and do whatever I want.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, and I don’t stop by the same place twice.” He looked disappointed. “My mother was the same way, so I can’t really say I’m from anywhere.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your name, baby?”
“O-Oh, it’s uh, Elvis.”
“Uh-Elvis?”
He chuckled softly and despite the dim light you saw the tips of his ears turn red. “Yeah.”
“I saw you up there talking to BB.”
“Yeah, w-we uh—I know him.”
“He ever show you this room?” You went over to the window and looked out. “They used to leave me up here when I was too little to party.”
“You were little? I-I mean, y-you knew him w-when you were little?”
“Come look, you can see the road from here.” You waited for him to cross the room, watching his expression as he looked out the window. He didn’t look too impressed.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah…w-why’d you ask?”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Why would you?”
You shrugged. “Just being careful.”
He stepped closer. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
You slipped your hands onto his shoulders. “Still okay?”
He nodded.
“Yes?” You wondered.
“Yes.” He confirmed.
“You can touch me, y’know?”
When he realized that his arms were still motionless at his sides he moved to hug your waist; you smiled as your body pressed against his.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
You laughed.
“I-I don’t—y-you’re just…I don’t think I’ve met a girl like you.”
“You need to get out more.”
You couldn’t make out his expression as he examined your face. “Can I kiss you?”
You were shocked that he had been polite enough to ask. “Only if you promise to buy me a drink.”
He nodded. “Whatever you want.”
He wasn’t only polite in asking, he was polite in letting you make every move. His lips were soft when they met yours. He was nice…too nice.
“Remember when you said I didn’t have to be careful with you?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“You don’t have to be careful with me either.”
“Okay.”
“Touch me, Elvis.”
“Okay.”
He deepened the kiss but it was up to you to take his idle hands and make them grope your breasts. After that bit of encouragement, they were all over you as he held you against the windowsill. You wondered if anyone could see the two of you from the road but you didn’t care enough to stop.
You guided his right hand under the skirt of your dress and he rubbed you through the damp fabric of your underwear. You smiled against his lips when he pushed the fabric aside and his trembling fingers met your arousal. He kissed you more eagerly and touched you with the same vigor. Despite his nerves, he was sure of himself as he fingered you within an inch of your life.
“Yes, baby, that’s perfect,” You whimpered. You could feel his confidence growing with every word of encouragement. Soon he broke the kiss in favor of meeting your eyes; forcing you over the edge with one final thrust in the right direction. Before he pulled away, you guided his hand to your lips.
“No,” He whispered in awe, watching with lust blown pupils as you lick his fingers clean.
You kissed him again, grinning at the desperation behind his tongue but stopping suddenly. “H-How about that drink, huh?”
His shock didn’t go unnoticed. “O-Oh…”
“You owe me, remember.”
“Y-Yeah…okay.”
He looked confused when you moved to unbuckle his belt. The sound he made when you touched him scratched a certain part of your brain—it made you want to make him fall apart. It’d be so easy.
“Oh my god,” He muttered breathlessly as you tucked his errection into his waist band.
“We’ll just tuck this away for later. No one will ever know.” You instructed him to fix his belt while you grabbed your purse.
“W-What, uh…What drink do you want?”
“Something sweet.”
“Something sweet,” He repeated. “…Sure.”
“Go, I’m right behind you,” You said, stopping to wipe your lipstick off his lips before ushering him the rest of way out of the room.
You followed him out after fixing your clothes and makeup. When you got downstairs you stopped the first man you ran into.
“Hey, baby, come here.” You smiled and motioned for him. “Wanna buy me a drink?”
“In exchange for what?”
You almost rolled your eyes. “You choose.”
“What do you want?”
“Something sweet.”
He looked like a man who struck gold as he rushed towards the bar. You spotted Elvis there too and you couldn’t help but laugh watching the two order similar drinks.
“Hope this is sweet enough for you, doll,” Elvis said as he handed over the drink, kissing your cheek along the way. BB showed up and began pestering him about treating you right, but you could hardly pay attention as you kept an eye out for the tall dark devil you sent to the bar. Your stomach churned in delight when you saw him making his way over. You took a seemingly harmless step away from Elvis and BB when he neared, abandoning the drink that had been placed in your hands just moments before.
“Something sweet,” He said when he found you.
“Aw, baby, you really shouldn’t have.” You felt Elvis’ eyes boring into you, how could you not when he was only a few feet away.
“I bet you’re the sweet one, really.”
“Stop,” You chuckled.
“Once you finish that we can roll.”
“Roll where?”
You choked on your strawberry daiquiri, covering your mouth to hide your amusement at the sound of Elvis’ voice.
“Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”
“Is there a reason you’re talking to my girl?”
“Your girl?” The stranger looked at you.
“I’ve never seen that man in my life,” You said with an oblivious expression, ignoring BB’s horrified one.
“Hold on just a damn minute~” Elvis started as the man went to defend you, stepping in front of you to act as a barrier.
“BB you oughta get this flamingo outta here, he don’t fit no way.”
You backed away discreetly, moving away as BB kept the two men from attacking each other. You abandoned your drink on a nearby table, slipping down the wooden steps of the lounge and into the cool night. You were relieved to be outside again. You sauntered into the street, hardly dodging the few cars that still lingered that late in the evening. You looked back at the club once more before disappearing into the night with a final laugh.
*
“I don’t know when you’re gonna stop coming back here. I can’t keep blocking off streets for you.”
“Anything?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking~”
“BB, please.”
“E.P…” The man sighed, pouring a drink. “It’s the same as I told you before, I ain’t seen her since that night.”
“Has anyone seen her?”
“Nah…” He offered Elvis the drink but he declined the glass.
“I’m getting on the road tomorrow,” He said instead. “I dunno when I’ll be back in Memphis again.”
BB looked thrilled. “That’s good to hear~”
“I wanted to see her again before~”
“That girl’s probably halfway across somewhere by now. She don’t stay put.”
“You said she’s your cousin.”
“That’s how I know. I heard stories about her for years ‘fore I actually laid eyes on her, that’s how fast she moves around.”
“…There was something about her.”
“There’ll be something about someone else soon I’m sure.”
“What’s her name?”
“I can’t~”
“Please. I’ll never see her again anyway. Neither will you from the looks of it.”
He looked conflicted but ultimately answered. “…It’s Y/n.”
“Y/n?”
“Are you bunnies talking about me?”
BB groaned and rushed to push the door shut before any desperate stragglers slipped through. “Can you get that maniac upstairs before I have to board up another window.”
You couldn’t tell if Elvis was the maniac or if you were. “Oh, BB, aren’t you happy to see me at least?”
“Upstairs!”
“Fine.”
You huffed and led the way upstairs. You faced Elvis when you were behind the door of the small room upstairs. He looked the same as when you saw him last, only the circles under his eyes were darker and he looked more stressed.
“What happened to not stopping by the same place twice?”
“You remember that but not the part where I told you that I do whatever I want.” He rolled his eyes. “You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
“I called that number you gave BB.”
“He’s really not supposed to be giving that out.”
“A man picked up.”
You liked the jealous undertone in his voice, it made you smile. “Did he say ‘hi?’”
“Who was it?”
“Does it matter?”
“Did he give you my message?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
His jaw twitched. “…I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“I know that’s why I came today.”
“You couldn’t have come sooner? Shit, I asked BB about you a million times in the last five weeks.”
“That’s a lot of asking when you could’ve just called.”
“And talk to your man?”
“And talk to my dad, jackass.”
He looked stunned and you laughed. “Y-Your dad? You live with your father?”
“No, but I stop by to pick up my mail when I’m in town.”
“Which is…whenever you want?”
“That’s right, bunny.”
“Uh-uh, don’t go giving me one of your freaky little nicknames, alright, I got a name. I like my name, I want the whole world to know it~”
“I didn’t mean to get you all flustered~”
“I don’t get flustered.”
You bit back a smile. “Okay.”
He sighed and looked off. “I can’t believe you’d wait til tonight to show up.”
“I came as soon as I got the message.”
“You’re playing with me.”
“I’m not. You’re the only reason I came back.”
“You’re lying.”
“Come on, bun…Elvis.” You inched towards him, waiting until he met your eyes to continue. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I’m happy to see you, I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to stare at you for the next five hours to make up for the past five weeks.”
“You count like a girl.”
“You get around like one.”
“How dare you~”
“Where do you go when you run off in the middle of the night? You aren’t sleeping in the street are you?”
You were shocked by his forwardness. “It’s none of your business, honestly.”
“Of course it isn’t. Because you do whatever you want, you go wherever you want to go~”
You groaned. “You’re making me regret even showing back up in this old, deadbeat town.”
“I feel like an idiot. All these days I’ve been holding you up here when really you’re subpar with the rest~”
“It’s not my fault you spent the last five weeks hoping you could fuck me before tour~”
“I don’t want to fuck you, I want to talk. I hardly said two words to you the last time I saw you.”
“I’m not the talking type.”
“Where do you go at night?”
“…I just…fly away.”
“You fly away?”
“Yeah, but…I gotta stop by and pick up my mail tonight. Wanna come?”
“Sure,” He responded sarcastically. “I’ll just pull my fucking jet around.”
You laughed. “I’m serious. Unless you’re too mad at me.”
“…I’m not mad at you,” He finally said.
“Then come with me.”
“Fine.”
“Can you get us out of here?”
“Yeah.”
“Perfect.”
*
You were hoping to avoid running into Ron, but he was up waiting for you when you got there. You couldn’t make out his expression, but you knew he wasn’t happy.
“This is Elvis. I told you about him.”
“Elvis? What kind of name is that?”
Elvis started to respond but you stopped him in time. “Some guys were bothering me so he was walking me home. We were just saying goodnight.”
“Bothering you where?”
You shook your head. “Nowhere, just up the street b-by O'malley's…”
“…We need to talk.”
“Okay, baby, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”
“It was nice to meet you, Ron.”
“Yeah…”
You stopped Elvis when he headed back toward the door, holding your finger to your lips until you heard Ron’s bedroom door shut behind him. You motioned for the stairs and carefully crept up them—showing him how to avoid the creaky parts of the steps. You were relieved when you were behind the door of your bedroom.
“That wasn’t so bad.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders and threw it on your bed.
“That’s your dad?” He looked uneasy.
“Yeah, but only when he’s sober.” You laughed.
“Is that your father?”
“…No.”
“Are you together?”
“No…he don’t care what I do as long as he gets the final word.”
“And does he?”
“Does he what?”
“Does he get the last word?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it don’t seem right.”
“Bunny, don’t make it more complicated than it is~”
“I’m not playing your game right now, I’m serious.”
“So am I—leave it alone. You can go back where you came from if you think you’re gonna be sitting up here interrogating me like you’re my goddamn daddy.”
“But he can?”
“Yes, he can. And can also put a bullet between your eyes if I ask him to.”
He looked shocked. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Do I even have to say it?”
“Say what?”
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Y’know what…fine, that’s fine.”
You almost felt yourself stopping him when he turned to leave. You refrained and instead faced your window to light a cigarette. You heard the shuffle of his coat going on before there was silence.
“Is this where you’ll be?”
“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
“Is this where you’re going to be?”
“Not if I can help it.”
He sighed. “Will he give you my messages?”
You nodded. “I’ll get them whenever I drop by.”
“Can you try to do that more often?”
“Drop by?”
“Yeah. So I can hear from you while I’m on the road.”
“…I’ll try.”
“Will you?”
“I’ll try, bunny, I promise.”
When you heard from him again it had been weeks later when you received a copy of his latest record in the mail. Ron got real quiet when he saw what it was—not good. You flew away quickly that night; leaving the record behind as proof of how much it meant to you.
The next time you heard Elvis’ voice, you just so happened to be in town when he called.
“Hello?”
“Birdie?”
“Elvis?”
“You’re home?”
“Elvis…”
“Hello?”
“Y-You can’t call this late, you’ll wake up Ron.”
“Why are you whispering? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just…h-he just now went to sleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”
“I called last week and I ain’t heard nothing back.”
“Sorry, he…” You checked down the hall before dropping your voice some more. “He’s still mad about th-the record you sent.”
“He is?”
“Yeah, y-you really can’t do those kinds of things.”
“I thought you said Ron don’t care.”
“…Ron takes care of me, Elvis.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, so if he asks me not to accept gifts from other people I don’t accept gifts from other people.”
“For someone who does whatever they want he has you on a leash this big~”
“I’m hanging up.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I can’t talk.”
“I’m sorry about the record. I s-sent em around to everyone. I-I didn’t think anything of it.”
“I know…don’t do it again, that’s all.”
He fell silent on the other line and you didn’t rush the silence, you just let it be until he spoke up again. “Where are you going to be tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” You responded. “What about you?”
“I don’t know…”
You couldn’t let the silence sit that time. “I have to go before he realizes I’m gone.”
“…I’m starting to think you don’t feel safe.”
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
“I’m gonna come get you.”
You stifled a laugh. “Oh no.”
“I’m serious.”
“Come get me then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you be there?”
“You always ask the right questions, don’t you?”
He was serious. “Birdie.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Will you be there?”
“Honestly? I hope not.”
He sighed softly but he didn’t say anything about being disappointed. “I’m gonna be in Ohio for the next two weeks.”
“Okay. Good luck in Ohio.”
“…Thank you.”
“…You’ll break my heart if you make me hang up first.”
You heard him chuckle and after a beat of silence the line went dead.
*
“Every time I see you I go to pinch myself.”
“Do you know what it takes for a girl like me to get this far this fast?”
“I’m sure Ohio’s happy you’re here.”
“Ohio better not be the only thing happy to see me. I might turn my ass around.”
He laughed. “Y-You wanna ride with us?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m headed to meet someone. I just thought I’d surprise you while I was here.”
“Where ya headed? W-We can drop you off on the way.”
“I’m going back that way, opposite direction.”
“What way?”
“That way.” You motioned vaguely.
“Let’s go, EP. Truck’s already rollin.”
“You should go.”
“W-Will you come with us?”
“Baby, I already said~”
“Please? You don’t know where you’re headed anyway, what’s the difference?”
“They’re going to leave without you.”
“Get in the truck.”
For some reason you hesitated and you found yourself rushing to respond. “I-I really can’t.”
“Why?”
They blew the horn and he got this anxious expression on his face that made you feel bad. “I can’t just leave you standing here~”
“Let’s play a game,” You said, opening your purse and rummaging around for a moment. “Take…uhm, take this, okay?”
“Why?” He asked, letting you put the silver compact mirror in his palm.
“So you can give it back when I see you next time.”
Another exasperated blow from the car horn.
“Kiss me.” You stood up on your tiptoes expectantly and waited for his lips to touch yours before pushing him away. “Go. Be careful.”
“Me be careful?” He wondered as he skipped a few steps toward the truck. “You be careful.”
“Elvis!” You called just as he climbed into the truck and shut the door. You laughed when you saw him sticking his head out the window.
“What?” He called as the truck started rolling.
“I love you!”
“What?”
“I love—“ You motioned to your heart and then to him. “—you!”
You couldn’t make out his expression as the truck picked up speed and made its way down the road. You watched until the vehicle was out of sight, suddenly feeling the emptiness of the night as you stood there alone.
*
“He’s in a bad way…there’s no telling how long he’ll be over there.”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”
You rummaged through your purse in search of any change, collecting the loose dimes from the bottom of the handbag.
“I’m only telling you ‘cause he’s been here every night since he found out. I been boarding up windows and blocking off doors~”
“I’m waiting for this to turn into my problem, BB.”
“This is your problem, this is solely your problem.”
“I don’t even know when I’ll be in Memphis again.”
“Can’t you get one of your men to bring you down here? How much they be paying Ron anyway?”
“It’s not about the money~”
“However much it is, I’ll pay him back if you can get here ‘fore he ships out.”
You laughed. “What is it about that man that makes you do whatever he says?”
“I could ask you the same damn thing. I’m tryna get a problem off my hands.”
“So am I.”
“Nobody put you in the position you’re in.”
“…I don’t know if I can be in Memphis before next week. It’s too short notice.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Ron’s sick of hearing about him and he’s starting to take it out on me. Things were good before, I don’t need all this.”
“Well maybe you shouldn’t have told him you loved him and you’d see him again.”
“I didn’t think I would, that’s why I said it. I was just trying to make his night.”
“You made it alright.”
“…I’m on my last dime, baby.” You turned the silver over in your palm before dropping it into the pay phone.
“I know you can be here, you can be anywhere.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Come by the club, have a drink with the man. Do all your little tricks and disappear like always.”
“I’ll see, okay? Don’t be mad at me…I can’t handle you being mad at me.”
“Then don’t give me a reason to be.”
Welcome to Winning Birdie! An AU surrounding Birdie&E.
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions—all reader’s welcomed
Table of Contents:
1956: The Year of the Phantom Lady
1958: The Year of the Third Strike
1960: The Year of the Strain Sprain
1963: The Longest Year
1968: The Year of the Whore
Alternative Ending
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Masterlist 𓂃 ོ𓂃
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
𓂃 ོ𓂃 PROLOGUE
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter One
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Two
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Three
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Four
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Five
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Six
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Seven
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Eight
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Nine
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Ten
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Eleven
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Twelve
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Thirteen
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Fourteen
𓂃 ོ𓂃 Chapter Fifteen
𓂃 ོ𓂃 ོ𓂃 Late Nights with Birdie&E
<3 Thank you so much for reading and giving my babies a safe space to exist with one another. <3
WC: 12k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Masterlist
<3 A short compilation of your late nights and early mornings with E. <3
You never knew what to say at first. Being alone in his presence—really alone—made you nervous. You wondered what he wanted from you, what he was expecting.
“You’re ice cold,” He said, joining you on his bed.
You smiled softly when he put his arm over your shoulder and kissed your cheek. You kept your eyes focused on where your hands rested in your lap.
“What’s wrong?” His leg tapped playfully against yours as the two of you sat side by side.
“Nothing.” You crossed your ankles. “I’m nervous, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“…You.”
He seemed tickled by your response. “Me?”
You wanted to scream—you didn’t know what to say. “Yes, you.”
“I don’t bite,” He said, tracing patterns into your shoulder.
“I know,” You chuckled. “It’s just…I don’t know what to say.”
“Well that’s no good.” He wanted you to meet his eyes but you refused. “Say anything.”
“Okay…”
“Look at me, honey.”
You finally tore your gaze from your hands and met his eyes. His expression was fond and warm—there was a smile behind his eyes that made you feel safe.
“You’re such a pretty girl,” He said. “Who got you this dress?”
“M-My mother.”
“I like it.”
“Thank you.”
His smile reached his lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”
You laughed breathlessly. “Me too.”
He kissed your cheek again, then the corner of your mouth. “I thought you h-had came to your senses about me.”
“N-No, I…” You hesitated. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“What have you been thinking about?”
“Kissing you again.”
“Then kiss me again.”
You looked away, too shy to hold his gaze. He didn’t tease you like you expected him to.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked instead. You nodded. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Your eyes fell shut as his lips met yours. The tension left your shoulders and you shifted towards him.
He broke the kiss sooner than you expected, caressing your chin before pulling away. “Will you do something for me?”
You agreed and he stood from the bed. You watched as he walked over to the table by the door. He grabbed a book he had abandoned there before rejoining you in the bed after.
You smiled when he handed you the book. “What?”
“Read it to me?” He asked, you were thrown by the request but ultimately agreed.
“O-Oh,” You said, slightly confused as you read the title. “Love Is a Special Way of Feeling…?”
He nodded in encouragement as you opened the book to the first page.
“Love is a special way of feeling,” You started, caressing the pages with your fingers as he repositioned himself. He laid down with his head in your lap, not looking up at you but listening intently as he stared at the ceiling. The book was written beautifully, sweet and simple. “…Love comes quietly…but you know when it’s there because, suddenly…you aren’t alone anymore…and there is no sadness inside of you. Love is a happy feeling that stays inside your heart for the rest of your life.”
Elvis smiled as you closed the book. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”
You turned the book over in your hands. “I loved it.”
“It’s yours.”
“I can’t take it from you.”
“I want you to have it.”
That nervous feeling returned as he sat up and kissed you again, taking the book from your hands and blindly setting it aside. You pulled away first that time.
“It’s getting late,” You said. “I-I should get back.”
“Stay,” He said. “No one’s gonna bother us.”
“Stay here?”
“Yeah, stay here.”
You swallowed, looking off in thought.
“Birdie,” He hummed gently, tapping your chin to make you meet his eyes. “I want you to sleep here, with me.”
“Is that all you want?”
“That’s all I want.”
He gave you a look—kind and reassuring.
“I won’t bite at ya.” He chuckled. “Scout’s honor.”
You bit back a smile. “If Dawn comes looking for me~”
“She won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I don’t know, it’s easy.”
You sighed. “I shouldn’t.”
You noticed him deflate. “Okay.”
“I don’t mean to be a brat, it’s just that~”
“If you’re being a brat, I’ll tell you—you’re not.”
Your stomach fluttered obnoxiously and you were almost persuaded to stay. “See you tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you in the hall before you go downstairs.”
You beamed. “Okay.”
“Alright, get out of here, ya little brat,” He said, making you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” You said, kissing him once more before climbing out of his bed.
You didn’t want the night to be over, but you’d be miserable in the morning if it weren’t.
~~
“What are you thinking about?”
“Hm?”
Elvis turned his head to meet your eyes. He had a distant expression on his face. That expression that always made you wonder where his mind was. You turned over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. He laid on his back in the middle of his bed—his knee was propped up, swaying lazily.
“Where are you?” You asked. “You can tell me.”
The corners of his mouth turned up in a partial smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He sighed and turned over onto his side. You did the same. It took a bit of prying but he always opened up eventually. You smiled when he put his arm over your waist and moved closer. His eyebrows drew together slightly. “Y’know, birdie, sometimes…sometimes I-I look around and I see all these people, but I’m still by myself—like something’s missing inside of me. But when I’m with you that feeling goes away. I don’t feel alone when you’re here. And I just want to feel like this all the time.”
Your smile had faded into a sympathetic expression. You wished you could comfort him in some way. But the truth was, you felf just as empty when he was away.
“Tell me you’re my baby,” He whispered, pulling you closer until his warm breath tickled your neck.
“I’m your baby.” You smiled.
“Does this make you happy?”
“It does.”
Elvis kissed your neck, settling more into the embrace. “You make me happy.”
“I’m glad.”
*
It took you hours to get ready each night. Waiting for Elvis, you had the time.
You started by stripping yourself of the day—showering and cleansing your face of any makeup. After the foundation was clean and bare, you slowly but surely started to piece yourself back together again. You tried to make your makeup more natural—subtle, so it wouldn’t look like you’d tried—you’d style your hair for easy wrapping later that night and lathered yourself in scented moisturizer. Something light and sweet—subtle but alluring. You picked yourself apart and adjusted minor details of your makeup before getting dressed. You only ever wore the night clothes that he’d gifted you and you always tried to pick the ones he liked the most. He loved all of the colors and designs he chose, of course, but certain things got him going more than others.
Your every thought was of him—what he’d like, what he’d dislike, what minor detail would make him shiver. His reactions always made the process that much more gratifying. You wanted his eyes to linger. You wanted him to barely get through asking you about your day before pawing at you.
“You don’t understand what you do to me,” He’d whisper into your neck as he greeted you with a hug. “You’re gorgeous.”
He’d immediately scoop you up and carry you to bed. You’d have to forgive him for skipping the pleasantries. How could he not eat you up when you looked so sweet?
*
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
You shook your head as Elvis contemplated over which nightie he wanted you to wear for him tonight. He was stuck between the baby pink nylon and the cranberry satin. He held each one up to you, tilting his head.
“The level of concentration on your face,” You chuckled, standing there in your underwear. “What’s so different about them?”
“They’re different.” He smiled softly. “Which one do you think?”
“I like the pink one,” You said, knowing he’d like it too.
“Me too.” He threw the pink nightie on the bed. “Wear the red one first.”
“Why?” You asked.
“So I can take a picture,” He said, already slipping the nightie carefully over your head.
“A picture? What if somebody finds it?”
“They won’t. I’ll keep it someplace safe.”
You frowned as he adjusted the straps. “I don’t know, E.”
“What?” He asked, tapping your chin. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” You said. “It’s just risky…isn’t it?”
“I’m gonna take the picture and it’s gonna print right out. Nobody’s gonna see it but us. I promise.”
You nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”
Elvis smiled and kissed your forehead. “Come here a minute.”
You let him lead you to the bathroom. “What now?”
“‘What now?’” He mocked in a voice that sounded nothing like you.
You laughed as he lifted you onto the counter. “Seriously.”
“We gotta get you dolled up,” He said, grabbing your toiletry bag from under the sink. You kept it hidden there for the nights that you didn’t make it back to your own room.
“What are you gonna do with that?” You asked as he pulled out your makeup.
“I’m gonna put it on you,” He said. “What? You don’t think I know how?”
“No, but I’d love to see you try,” You chuckled. “If you poke my eyes out I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, I’d better not do that then,” He muttered jokingly. He set your toiletry bag on the counter beside you, holding your eyeliner in his hand. “Close your pretty eyes.”
You did as he said, trying not to scrunch your face when you felt him applying the makeup. “That feels like a lot.”
“Quiet, I’m tryna concentrate.”
You nudged him with your foot, making him click his tongue. He moved on to the other eye after a minute, focusing harder to make sure they were identical.
“Okay,” He said, turning your head towards the mirror. “What do you think?”
“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth as you took in the heavy eye look.
“What?” He laughed along with you.
“It’s too much,” You said, leaning towards the mirror to inspect it further. “You won’t even be able to see my eyes.”
“I think it’s pretty,” He disagreed. “It’s supposed to be dramatic.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. Look here so I can finish.”
You shook your head in disbelief before facing him again. “I’ll have to scrub to get all this eyeliner off.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Elvis said. He chose a dark red lipstick—one that he’d gotten you. “You can finally use it.”
“I don’t think I look good in red.” You pouted.
“You look good in everything, birdie,” He reassured you. “Wear it for me?”
“Why do you even bother asking?”
“Cause it’s polite.”
He carefully applied the lipstick before ordering you to apply the mascara.
“I’m gonna get the camera ready,” He said, kissing your shoulder. “You look like a doll, baby.”
You averted your eyes, embarrassed by the compliment. You cleaned up your eyeliner when he left the bathroom and made sure everything looked good.
“Come here, pretty,” Elvis called.
You left the bathroom, finding him standing in front of the bed with the camera.
“Get on the bed,” He instructed.
“Yes, sir,” You ribbed sarcastically, getting on the bed and kneeling in the center. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Don’t be nervous,” He said. “It’s me.”
“It never makes me feel better when you say that.” The camera flashed as he took the first picture. “I wasn’t ready!”
He laughed, waiting for it to print. He sat the undeveloped photo on the bed. “Okay, I’ll let you get ready.”
“What should I do?” You asked.
“I’m gonna be taking these with me when I go away,” He said. “What do you think I’d wanna see?”
“Not anything that should be photographed,” You responded.
Elvis laughed. “Come on, birdie. Do something sexy.”
Your eyes met the ceiling in embarrassment.
“Don’t be coy.” He smirked, kneeling on the bed. “Pull your strap trap down.”
“Like this?” You asked, following his instructions.
The camera flashed again. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”
You shifted to the side, leaning on your hand and extending your legs. The camera flashed.
“Lay back,” He instructed, waiting for you to follow his directions. “Prop your little knee up and look at me. Just like that.”
“You’re really enjoying this,” You chuckled.
“Aren’t you?” He moved closer to you on the bed. “I know you’re just about purrin.”
You laughed. “I am not.”
“Get serious, now. This is serious business.”
You forced yourself to stop smiling, giggling immediately after the camera flashed.
“You’re a natural,” Elvis said. “Roll over on your stomach.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, you’re so good.”
He snapped a few more pictures in a few more interesting positions before putting the camera away. You helped him carefully place each photo on the bedside table.
“What are you gonna do with them?” You asked.
“Dirty things.” He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you with him as he sat down on the bed. “Dirty, dirty things.”
You laughed, letting him sit you on his lap and kiss you. You pulled away first. “Now your lips are red.”
“Is it my color?” He wondered.
“Every color’s your color, baby,” You said, kissing him again.
He hummed against your lips, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth. He broke the kiss that time. “Let’s get you outta this. I wanna see you in the pink one.”
“I have to take all this makeup off.” You stood from his lap. “You better take yours off too.”
Elvis smiled and took your hand, letting you lead him to the bathroom. You both washed your faces, making sure every trace of makeup was gone.
“You look like a little girl again,” Elvis said, prompting you to complain.
“I’m not a little girl~”
“‘I’m not a little girl~’”
You swatted his arm and left the bathroom, he laughed and followed you out. You changed into the pink nightie—it felt smooth against your skin—and Elvis changed into his pajamas. You rarely saw him wearing them.
“You’re perfect,” He said, looking at the photos as the two of you snuggled up under the covers. “My pretty girl.”
You smiled. “How many hours until I have to be up?”
Elvis lifted his head to check the time. “Four.”
You groaned. “I’m going to be miserable.”
“You don’t have to be,” He said, reaching over to place the photos on the bedside table.
“What are you saying?” You giggled softly when he wrapped his arms around you.
“I could give you something to help you wake up tomorrow,” He explained, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“I’d rather be miserable.”
“Suit yourself.”
You closed your eyes and tried to keep your mind from racing.
*
“Hi.”
“Hey, baby.”
“Are you okay?” You asked nervously from the doorframe of your bathroom.
“Yeah,” He said, meeting you. “Just recovering from a long night of missing you.”
You relaxed, smiling softly against his lips as he kissed you briefly. “It’s too early. You should be asleep.”
Elvis sighed. “I know. I couldn’t sleep if I tried right now.”
“What’s wrong?” You turned back to the mirror to do your makeup.
“Nothing in particular,” He said, stepping behind you and zipping your dress the rest of the way.
“Are you free tomorrow? So you can rest?”
He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the tub. “I’ll be fine. I rather be doin something anyway.”
“You have to take care of yourself,” You said, leaning towards the mirror to apply your eyeliner. “You make me worry when you don’t.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me, birdie.”
“You can’t stop me,” You hummed in response, preoccupied with what you were doing. You turned your head when you noticed the silence, finding him watching you with a fond smile. “What?”
“What?” He shot back.
“Why are you just sitting there?”
“Would you rather I do something else?” He asked. “D’you want me to stand here instead?”
“No.” You laughed as he stood and hugged your waist. “You could say something at least.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” He met your eyes in your reflection. “I just wanna watch.”
“You want to watch me get dressed?” You asked.
“Is that so bad?”
“No, it’s a little strange.”
“I’ve been told I’m a little strange.”
“Sit down,” You said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “I can’t move around with you holding onto me like this.”
“You’re full of commands this morning.” He put the lid of the toilet down and sat. “What’s Dawny got you doin today?”
“I don’t know,” You said. “Busy work.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the counter. He watched intently as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You laughed when he suggested a bold lip color and complained when he insisted that you wear the earrings he’d picked out of your jewelry box.
“No,” You said. “My aunt’s gonna wonder why I’m dressing up on a Tuesday.”
“Is it a crime to wear earrings on Tuesday?” He asked, picking up one of the pearl studs. He held it up and examined it. “I can get you prettier earrings.”
“It’d be a shame if you did.” You took the earring from him and put it in your left ear, leaning back to see how it looked. “I’d never wear them.”
“That would be a shame.” He handed you the other earring. He continued to pick through your dinky jewelry collection as you fixed your hair and sprayed yourself with perfume.
“I have to go,” You said reluctantly.
“It’s not eight yet,” He said, following you out of the bathroom.
“I know, but Dawn and Cynthia get started early.” You sat on your bed to slip your flats on.
“I’m leavin tonight,” He said, sitting down and putting his arm around you. “You won’t see me for seven whole days.”
“Seven whole days?” You repeated as he kissed your cheek. “How am I supposed to go on?”
“Don’t go,” He said. “Ten minutes.”
“I can’t, E.” You stood, ready to head down for the day. “You should leave first.”
“Fine,” He said, standing reluctantly. “I guess I’ll see you in a week.”
“Try to manage.” You smiled, you’d miss him terribly.
He hugged you, letting his embrace linger before kissing you goodbye.
*
“Were you asleep?”
“No.”
“Liar.” He sounded wide awake despite the early morning hour and he was extremely apologetic for waking you. You insisted that it was fine. You were happy to hear from him at any hour. “Will you talk to me?”
“Of course.”
“About anything. My mind’s racing.”
You frowned, shifting to lay back as you held the phone to your ear. “Anything?”
“Tell me what your day’s like tomorrow,” He insisted. “Start from the beginning.”
“Well…” You settled in and drowsily began running down your day from top to bottom. Starting with waking up and getting dressed—he insisted that you explain what you’d be wearing. You hadn’t thought about it yet but made up an outfit that you thought he’d like. He seemed satisfied.
“What’s Dawny got you doin?” He asked, he sounded less wired up already.
“We make stuff up as we go,” You said. “She’ll probably have me do the upstairs stuff while she does downstairs.”
“Mhm,” he encouraged, waiting for you to continue.
“She’ll want me to get your room ready for when you get back.” You continued you on with how the rest of your night would go, adding a few details to keep things interesting. “Then maybe,” You said. “I’ll put on one of your records before I go to bed. Because I just can’t go a day without at least hearing your voice.”
“Oh, yeah?” He laughed. You knew he’d like that.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” You responded, trying to set your prudishness aside. You were delirious enough to not be embarrassed by your words. “Something slow…or fast—I guess it depends.”
“On what?”
“You know.”
“I don’t think I do.”
You laughed. “Use your imagination.”
He laughed along with you for a moment. “I guess I know what you mean.”
“Do you like fast or slow songs, E?”
“Hmm…slow.”
“Really? You’re usually so impatient.”
“What kind of song did you listen to tonight?”
“It was slow.”
“How slow?”
“Really…really slow.”
You talked for hours until you were both on the verge of falling asleep. Each time you thought he was gone, he was still awake, until finally—
“Elvis? Are you there?” There was no reply.
You smiled to yourself as you turned onto your side, still clutching the phone to your ear.
“I love you,” You whispered into the receiver before reaching over and hanging up.
*
“Tell me what I’m thinking.”
“What?”
Elvis tilted his head back against your headboard. His eyelids were heavy but he refused to fall asleep.
“Do it,” He insisted. “What am I thinkin?”
“I don’t know.” You were delirious as you straddled him, barely awake. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“Nope.” He shook his head with a short laugh. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t have to guess, I’ll tell you,” You said. “I’m exhausted. I can’t stay awake anymore.”
“Don’t go to sleep.”
“Elvis,” You complained. You closed your tired eyes and he kissed your neck.
“Not yet, mama.”
“I’m so tired.”
You felt him change your position. You laid back against the pillows and he hovered over you.
“Birdie,” He hummed in your ear.
“I can’t.” Your eyes fell shut as he kissed your neck.
“Tell me what I want right now,” He said, his free hand traveling up your thigh.
“Me…” You muttered drowsily.
“Hm?”
“Me.”
Elvis laughed. “Close enough.”
You stopped him before he touched you any further. “Please, E. I’m so tired.”
“Aw, alright you big baby,” He cooed, repositioning himself.
“I’m sorry,” You laughed.
“It’s okay, pretty,” He said. “It’s late, o-or early I guess.”
“You should try,” You said as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I will,” He promised emptily. “Don’t worry about me.”
You only heard half of what he said as you finally allowed yourself to slip into unconsciousness.
*
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you keep askin me that?”
You didn’t know what to say. You turned your attention back to your homework, gripping your pen anxiously. It was hard to focus as Elvis shook his foot impatiently and sighed in boredom.
“You can leave if you want.” You kept a light tone, your eyes glued to your textbook.
“I will.” His tone was short and he stared ahead with his arms crossed.
“You’re a little restless, that’s all,” You muttered. “And tense.”
“If you want me to leave just say that~”
“I don’t want you to leave~”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up?”
You refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel forced to be here.”
Elvis sighed in annoyance. “There you go, kicking up shit already.”
“I’m not.” Your voice rose in pitch as you defended yourself. “I can’t help but notice~”
“You can’t help but project your feelings onto other people,” He snapped. He stood from the bed and spoke down at you. “If I say I’m fine, I mean it. Don’t go fixin shit up in your head and drivin us both insane.”
“Why does it matter what you say if you don’t show it?”
He started to shout but you shushed him, worried that someone would overhear.
“I don’t know what you want from me, birdie,” He said in a calmer manner. “Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to stop coming to see you?”
“Stop doing that.”
“What?”
“That,” You snapped, tears inevitably forming in your eyes. “Stop trying to make me send you away. Just leave. I don’t care.”
“You always think I’m playin tricks on you.” He shook his head. “I’m doing the best I can to see you in my free time and you’re finding any reason to be upset~”
“I’m not upset,” You cried. “I want you to stop trying to make me crazy.”
“No, baby, you’re doin that all by yourself,” He said smugly. “I don’t need this right now. I really don’t.”
“Go then,” You said. “I don’t care.”
“If you don’t care neither do I.” He started to leave. “Let me know when you feel like being bothered with me again.”
“Elvis,” You sighed, exasperated.
“What?” He faced you again. “What?”
You met his impatient eyes. “I don’t want to be like this all the time. I don’t want to fight.”
He shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to you.
“I know you’re tired and filming hasn’t been easy~”
“If you know that then why are you giving me such a hard time?”
“I’m not trying to,” You said. “I understand, I do. If it’s too difficult to make time for me then…then don’t, E.“
Silence settled over the room and you found yourself fighting back tears again.
“I’ll let you finish your homework.” He stood from the bed and made to leave again. “I’ll see you around the house I guess.”
You ran into Andrea later that night as you stood in the kitchen nursing a glass of water. She told you that you seemed troubled by something, but you smiled and brushed it off. You knew you couldn’t hide the fact that you had spent the last several hours crying your eyes out.
“I’m just really stressed out with school right now,” You said, chuckling lightly. “I’m fine though, really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah…I’m sure.”
*
You tried to ignore the holes Sonny and Red were burning into your back as you stood at the counter with Elvis. He leaned over examining your homework unnecessarily.
“Can you just sign it, E?” You asked in a low voice.
“This one’s blank,” He said, pointing. He had that playful gleam in his eye that he always had when he was teasing you.
“Good eye,” You said. “Sign it.”
“Why the hell are you in such a hurry anyway?” He shrugged off the counter and faced you with a smile. “Andrea taking you out again?”
“So what if she is?”
“She’s such a~”
“Elvis Presley.”
“What?”
“Sign. The. Paper.”
He clicked his tongue and scribbled his signature across the pages. You glanced over your shoulder in time to see Red and Sonny avert their eyes.
“Where are y’all going?” Elvis asked as he rearranged and stacked the pages.
“Why?” You asked. “Planning on crashing our party?”
“A party?”
“Gosh, would you give it a rest?”
He pulled the papers out of your reach when you went to grab them. He laughed at your annoyed expression before handing them over.
“I’ll see you tonight,” You said under your breath as you gathered your things—keeping your back to the others. “We probably won’t go further than the beach.”
“Liar.” He smiled when he said it but you knew he was still probing around for the truth.
“I swear,” You said, glancing up to see Andrea walking towards the kitchen. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
You smiled at her as she entered the kitchen, taking a discreet step away from Elvis and towards her.
“Hey, pretty girl,” She said, poking your side as she stopped beside you.
“Andrea,” Elvis said, his eyes not leaving you for a moment before he fully addressed her. “I ain’t seen you since, what, last year?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s good to see you. Something’s different…”
“I grew two inches, I didn’t think you’d notice.”
You laughed. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
Andrea shrugged. “We’ve met.”
“Briefly,”Elvis clarified.
“Too briefly to even matter.”
“Is that how you feel?”
“That’s how I feel,” She said, not even glancing his way for more than a second before speaking to you again. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“Dressed for what?” Elvis asked her.
“Uhm…” Your brain short circuited—you weren’t expecting him to actually ask. “We were gonna go down to the beach for a little while.”
“Why?” Andrea asked—she didn’t disguise the distaste in her tone well. “Are you joining us?”
“Not if that’s your idea of an invitation.” He smiled charmingly—as if he thought he could dazzle her into liking him.
“What’s the opposite of wishful thinking?” Andrea asked, humming thoughtfully.
Elvis laughed but you cut his rebuttal short. “I was about to go change.”
“I’ll come with you.” Andrea linked her arm with yours.
“You girls be careful out there now,” Elvis said, walking away as more of his entourage poured through the door.
“What a vainiac,” Andrea mumbled as the two of you climbed the stairs.
“Vainiac?”
“A vain, maniac.”
*
You didn’t know what it was that made them hate each other—Andrea and Elvis. You knew why Andrea said she hated him, but the things she hated never revealed themselves to you. To you, he wasn’t vain—a bit entitled but not selfish. He wasn’t greedy—possessive but not acquisitive. He was attracted to nice, pretty things—to no fault of his own. It was in his nature.
“Put that down.”
“Why?”
“Are you interested in the poetics of propter nos?”
Elvis smiled—holding your notebook out of your reach. “If you’re talking about it, yeah.”
You stood up on your knees and snatched the notebook before he could pull it away. “I’d rather not waste my time educating you.”
“Wanna waste your time doing something else?”
“What are you insinuating?”
“You love to ask that question.”
“You love to be vague.”
“I’m insinuating that you stay here and make my night.”
“Make your night, huh?”
“Yeah.”
You hummed in thought, reaching over to set your notebook aside. You usually met Andrea after Elvis turned in for the night. It had become a fun routine and the two of you were growing closer.
“Unless, of course, you’d rather be with Andrea.”
“What’s that mean?
“You know what that means.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“It’s not funny.”
You covered your mouth, suppressing a laugh. Your amused smile faded into one more stunned when you saw his expression.
“Are you jealous of Andrea and me? What do you think is happening between us?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
“…Don’t cross the line.”
“Has it already been crossed?”
“What are you implying right now?”
“Stop laughing.”
“Stop making me laugh.”
He moved forward, forcing you onto your back as he positioned himself between your legs.
“You can’t tell me you haven’t at least…considered it.”
“Stop.”
“Even if you haven’t, I know she has.”
“She’s married for Christ’s sake.”
“And you’re naive.”
You couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. The thought had never crossed your mind—you were bewildered.
“Don’t think she wouldn’t take the chance if given the opportunity.”
“Do men really think women just sit around playing with each other?”
“It’s a valid question.”
“It’s a tasteless fantasy.”
“Can you blame me for asking?”
He kissed your neck—pinning you beneath him.
“Who wouldn’t want to enjoy two beautiful women…enjoying each other.”
“Are we still talking about Andrea and me?”
“You, not Andrea.”
Your breath hitched when you felt his teeth graze your neck. You keened into his touch, losing your train of thought for a moment.
“Me…and another woman?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never…I-It’s just that I’ve never considered it.”
“Are you considering it now?”
Your eyes fell shut and you grasped the hair at the nape of his neck. He suppressed a groan of pleasure and a shiver ran through you. He lifted his head, you met his eyes briefly before leaning to kiss him but he pulled away.
“Tell me, birdie. Are you considering it?”
“…I’d do it for you.”
“You would?”
“Yes.”
“What would you do?”
You’d do anything for him. You’d set aside juvenile things, defy time, and enter impenetrabile spaces for him. You’d let him invade you as you whispered the crude words of his fantasies as if they were your own—so long as it was for him.
“Anything.”
You’d let him have you in any way he wanted you if it meant having him at all.
*
You used to feel indifferent about the color blue. It was too cool, too unemotional to feel anything but indifference towards.
You loved blue now, however. It was still cool, and unemotional, but you got lost in blue and blue held you close when nothing else felt real. Blue was your comfort, and your peace. If you had never known what the ground felt like before, you did now. With blue.
“You’re quiet.”
You could stare into blue and be reminded of all the shades. Happy shades, sad shades—shades of fury.
“No.”
They were all there—in every pigment, in every shade. You couldn’t escape them. You couldn’t escape the sky on a sunny day or a carton of blueberries in the shop on an average evening.
“It wasn’t a question.”
His laugh was blue—bright blue, but blue all the same. You couldn’t help but hear it every time.
“I wish you were here.”
You couldn’t escape it. You could run away but you’d take it everywhere you go.
“It’s only a few more days.”
You loved blue so much that you hated yourself. You felt betrayed by your logic and abandoned by your will. If loving yourself meant losing blue you’d have no choice but to let it go.
“Elvis?”
“Hm?”
“I-I wanted to tell you…”
At the end of the day it wasn’t about blue. It wasn’t about how cool and unemotional it was. It was about how it made you feel. How it riled you up and made you want to disappear.
“Tell me what, birdie?”
Blue reminded you that you were small, and weak. It reminded you that you were too naïve and that you didn’t know what was best for yourself. Blue made you feel sick and dizzy—it kept you right where it needed you to be and it made you think you liked it. You do like it.
“Just that…I love you.”
You wished you were colorblind.
*
You woke up cold, and alone. You didn’t know what time it was, it felt too early and too late all at the same time. You felt around blindly for Elvis only to come across a familiar envelope. Strewn across the front in Elvis’ messy handwriting: Birdie. You recognized it.
I want to think I’m an altogether different creature now, a helpless thing, more capable of love and confession. I’m not, despite how hard I’ve tried. I’ve tried to find the words to say how much I care, but I can’t comprehend my love enough. It’s too complicated and untamed. Or maybe I’m too simple for its knottiness and inopportune timing. Your eyelids still flutter in your sleep and your brow still furrows like you’re trying to make sense of your dreams—but you’re different now. Truly, altogether. It should scare me to think that you aren’t the little girl that I fell in love with last year, but it intrigues me even more somehow. I can’t get close enough to make up for lost time and I can’t hold you long enough to ever be okay with saying goodbye. I love you and I want to be forever a part of you, and you a part of me. You don’t have to say a word and still you consume me—mind and body. You’re too familiar and too different all at the same time. If time and space somehow worked in our favor, I’d never stop learning and loving you. Our story may end here, but my love for you will last a lifetime and beyond.
I love you. I love you. I love you. —E.P.
You shook the necklace from the envelope, setting the—now tear stained—letter aside. You examined the jewelry in your hand, it was cold against your skin when you secured it around your neck. You met Elvis downstairs after you were dressed, sporting the necklace proudly. He noticed instantly and looked pleased. He kissed your collarbone, just where the chain fell against your skin.
“I’m glad you’re here,” He said. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
*
It felt like being transported to another world. It felt too euphoric to be afraid and too good to be real. You were happy, or at least not upset or sad about anything. It was almost peaceful being so numb and feeling so distant yet close, warm but still cold.
You laughed while he traced patterns into your bare hip. You wanted him to consume you, and it felt like he was trying.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, looking up at you with a smile in his eyes.
“I’m not laughing at you,” You responded.
“Then what are we laughing at?” He moved to hover over you, abandoning his mission between your thighs.
“Lay on top of me. I feel like I’m floating away.” You wrapped your arms and legs around him.
“D’you want me to smother you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re crazy.” He turned onto his side, hooking a hand under the bend of your knee and holding you against him.
“Does this make you happy?” You stopped him from kissing you until he answered.
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because I want to know it’s worth it.”
He laughed, you didn’t find anything funny. It was the truth—none of this made sense if you both weren’t happy.
“I’m so happy, birdie, I could sing,” He said, kissing your forehead and cheeks until you laughed. “What do you want me to do?”
“I just want to know if it's real.”
“It’s real. Having you here is worth it, honey…no matter what happens.”
He must’ve felt it too—the anticipation of it all.
*
“What are you doing?”
You tried to hide your tears but it was too late—even the shadows of the dim corner you sat in couldn’t disguise the telltale signs of you crying. You put your head down on your knees in another futile attempt to hide your face.
“What’s wrong, hunna?” Elvis cooed, kneeling down beside you. “I thought you were gonna meet us by the pool.”
“I can’t.” Your voice broke. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
He noticed the abandoned pile of bathing suits on the closet floor, as well as the one you were currently wearing. “What happened to these?”
You lifted your head and tried to dry your tears. “I can’t wear them.”
“Why?”
“They’re all two pieces.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”
You closed your eyes. “I’m what’s wrong with that.”
“Birdie, how many times are we gonna go through this?”
“You don’t get it, Elvis, you don’t understand. They’ll tear me apart.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Saying that won’t change the way I feel.”
He sighed. “What am I gonna do with you?”
You protested as he stood and picked you up from the ground. “Please, I don’t want to go anymore.”
“Come stand here a minute.” He led you to the tall mirror on the wall opposite the door.
“You’re embarrassing me~”
“I’m trying to get you to see something.”
You crossed your arms, standing in front of the mirror with tears brimming your eyes. Elvis stood behind you and put both hands on your shoulders.
“Look at you.” He gave your shoulders an encouraging squeeze, making you look at yourself in the mirror. “You’re beautiful. Like a little doll.”
Your gaze dropped. He wrapped his arms around your torso and kissed your shoulder.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” He said. “I can’t tell you that enough.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” You said in a whisper. “They’ll never think I’m good enough for you.”
“I don’t care what they think.” He was tired of having this conversation, and you were tired of trying to explain to him why that wasn’t enough. You couldn’t really explain it to yourself either. “Who the hell are ‘they’ anyway?”
“Your fans, your family, your friends, the press~”
“I’m trying to remember when I married them and not you.”
You shrugged, turning away from the mirror and hugging him. “Can we just stay in tonight?”
He engulfed you in his arms. “I wanna go out.”
“Please, E~”
“We stayed in all weekend~”
“Because you wanted to.”
“Well, I don’t want to now. I want to go out.”
“I stayed in for you.”
“I know, baby, but they’re expecting us.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t want them to think~”
“So you do care what they think?”
He fell silent and you walked out of his arms. He stood there watching you gather the discarded swimsuits.
“You know what?” He started suddenly. “You’re right, forget it—it’s too late to swim anyway.”
“Don’t do that.” You hated when he guilt-tripped you.
“I’m not doing anything. Look.” He took one of your winter coats off of its hanger. “How about this?”
“What?”
“Wear it.”
“A coat in the middle of the summer?”
He draped the heavy coat over your shoulders. He made you face the mirror again and laughed, getting a kick out of seeing you struggle in the heavy material.
“You’re not revealing anything now,” He said through his laughter.
“It’s not funny,” You said, cracking a smile despite yourself.
“We can really go all out with this,” He said, removing the coat before grabbing another article of clothing. “You can wear this under it.”
You had to laugh the more he drew out the bit. He layered some of your clothes and even a couple shirts of his own before putting the coat back on. You looked absolutely ridiculous, and you let him know it.
“What have you done?” You smiled as you faced yourself in the mirror again. “Liz would lose her mind if she saw this.”
“If I knocked you down you wouldn’t be able to get back up,” He laughed.
“I’m gonna have a stroke in this.” You screamed when he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Now can we go?” He asked, carrying you out of the closet.
“I can’t go out there like this,” You protested, trying to get down. “I look insane.”
“Everyone out there is insane, you’ll blend right in,” He said. “Come on. You owe me anyway for ruining my night.”
“I didn’t mean to~”
“It’s a joke.”
“It’s not funny.”
He hugged you as you pouted, kissing your lips. “You’re the best part of my day and night, birdie.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Cross my heart.”
You hated the way they looked at you—sorry, the way they didn’t look at you.
The ones that knew, the one’s closer to Elvis, were in the habit of pretending you weren’t there while somehow still walking on eggshells and watching what they said. It didn’t matter what they said, really. You were never listening. You only heard him—you only listened for his voice.
“You’re cheating.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, E.”
He threw his cards down onto the dining table. “The stakes are too low.”
You narrowed your eyes. “How much higher can they get?”
He raised an eyebrow and you laughed knowingly.
“What?” He asked.
“You’re gonna say Texas Hold’em.”
“What’s wrong with Texas Hold’em?”
“Strip poker in the middle of a crowded room? I thought I was the crazy one.”
“You are.”
You smiled and added your cards back to the deck. He watched you shuffle for a moment, waiting for your response.
“You know I don’t know how to play,” You said. “I’ll lose.”
“Can there be a loser in this situation?” He asked.
“We could just…” Your foot grazed his leg under the table. “Skip to the good part.”
“I like to get you going first.”
“I’m always going.”
“Always?”
“All the time.”
He smirked, his eyes darting toward the kitchen. You smiled knowingly but made no move to get up.
“You’re being crazy,” You said, enjoying the expression on his face.
“You’re wearing a hundred layers of clothes in a thousand degree weather,” He shot back. “Who’s crazier?”
You shrugged and continued shuffling the cards. “Best two of three?”
“You don’t even know how to play.”
“So?”
“You’ll lose.”
You protested through your laughter as he knocked the cards out of your hands and dragged you along with him to the kitchen.
“No,” You said with widened eyes when you saw the few people lingering around there. You tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. “Elvis~”
“Get out,” He said over his shoulder before forcing you up onto the nearest countertop. “See? They’re leaving.”
“You can’t just…” Your rebuttal quickly died on your lips as he kissed your neck. You watched the last of the people leaving the kitchen, glancing at the two of you on the way out. The embarrassment that you wanted to feel was replaced by pure lust.
You couldn’t resist him, but it was fun to try.
“They’re gonna think we’re doing it in here,” You said with a breathlessness in your tone.
“They love those kinds of stories,” He said, pushing your coat off. You were burning up in all the clothes now.
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“What?”
“Screwing like teenagers.”
“It’s your fault.”
You laughed before stopping him suddenly. “Wait, what time is it?”
He checked his watch. “Six.”
“Andrea’s gonna bring Lark down.”
“She is?”
“Yeah.”
“…Upstairs?”
You tilted your head disapprovingly and pushed him away.
“I have to go change,” You said, getting down from the counter. “I want to be back down before them.”
“Why?” Elvis asked, stopping you and kissing your neck. “Andrea likes taking care of her. Not to mention, I’m paying her so it’s her job.”
“You’re paying her?”
“I told her I would if she came back to help with Lark.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He ignored you and removed the second coat you were wearing—still kissing your neck as he did so.
“Come on, E, I really want to beat them,” You said, pushing him away once again. “I don’t care if you’re paying her, Lark needs to know who her mommy is.”
“She knows.”
“Come with me. Don’t you want her to see us together?”
“She’s a baby, birdie, she won’t know the difference between you and Andrea until she’s older. It doesn’t matter as long as her needs are met.”
You walked off. “I’m going to get ready for my baby.”
You stalled for a moment, but he didn’t follow.
*
“‘I always had the feeling that she was naive. But not naive enough to marry Elvis Presley,’ Jones says. ‘She’s more of a sell out than I originally thought.’”
“I never heard of Sinclair Jones in my life.”
“She’s~ Well, I thought she was my friend. I guess she just thinks I’m a sellout now. Or she’s always thought so, I can’t tell.”
“I’m sure she’s doing it for the money, birdie. It probably has nothing to do with you.”
“First Barb and Pat with all that ‘Housekeeper to Housewife’ bullshit in Jet and now this?Everyone’s going to start believing it.”
“It’s just another stupid article in a magazine no one reads.”
“No one reads Jet? I wish. Maybe then half the tabloids wouldn't have our faces on them with titles that defame and diminish us.”
He sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “Can you just put them away? It’s too early for tabloids.”
You shook your head and turned to the next page. You didn’t notice that you were gnawing at your fingernails until Elvis took your hand from your mouth. “Don’t put your fingers in your mouth.”
You couldn’t respond fully as another comment came to your attention. “She’s telling them about Joel. She can’t do that, can she? I mean, it’s such an invasion~”
Your words were cut short by him snatching the magazine out of your hand and throwing it across the room. “I said it’s too fucking early for this. They’re vampires, I get it, but grow the hell up a little. You’re as bad as them feeding into all that shit.”
You got out of bed to pick up the magazine. “Why do you have to be so mean to me?”
His jaw clenched and he motioned for you to get back in bed. “C’mere. Quit fluttering around.”
You rolled your eyes and walked back over, tabloid in hand. He took it from you when you joined him in bed and threw it back across the room. He cut your complaints short with a kiss.
“What are you gonna do about them talking?” He asked. “Everybody talks, baby. You can’t take it to heart.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” You said. “Everyone loves you.”
“You’re crazy if you think that,” He said. “You’re just too good at throwing pity parties for yourself.”
“If I don’t talk about it I’ll lose my mind.”
“If you don’t read it you won’t have anything to talk about. I’m telling Andrea once and for all to stop bringing that shit in this house.”
You heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry my feelings are such a bother.”
He laughed. “There you go again. You’re a little shit kicker, you know that?”
“That’s not funny.”
“Neither is crying over articles no one’s forcing you to read. Stop borrowing trouble all the damn time.”
He was right. You had become too caught up in the press, knowing they weren’t on your side. They tolerated you because they wanted him.
“Get outta there,” He said, tapping your temple. “It’s a danger zone.”
“You’re a danger zone.” You laid down with your back to him. “Turn off the light.”
You felt him get out of the bed before the lights went out. When he rejoined you, he slipped his arm around your waist.
“I don’t care what they say or what they think,” He said. “I love you, everything about you, regardless. If that’s not enough to make you feel better, I really don’t know what to tell you.”
“I want them to like me.”
“They probably never will.”
“Thanks.”
“Birdie~”
“I’m going to sleep. Maybe I’ll do the press a favor and not wake up.”
Elvis laughed—you didn’t find anything funny.
*
You gasped when you saw Lark sitting in her high chair.
“Hi, mama.” You smiled as you approached. “Who’s a big girl, sitting in her chair?”
Andrea chuckled as she stood there feeding her. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
You shrugged. “I wanted to be here when you guys came down.”
“Elvis was here to help feed her but I guess he went off somewhere.”
“He was?”
“Mhm. He’s good with her. I wish you guys would spend more time with her. I know he works but you…” She trailed off when she saw your expression.
“I know we could spend more time with her, that’s why I’m trying,” You said, crossing your arms with a shrug. “But I mean…it’s not like you’re doing it for free, right?”
“Elvis wanted to pay me.”
“I’ve heard.”
She sighed and returned to feeding Lark. “If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t have come back.”
You hummed. “I know, you’ve told me. You hate me, but you need the money~”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s about the fact that she’d be abandoned with god knows who if I weren’t here. I’d do it for free if it meant she wasn’t constantly overlooked and set aside. Elvis hardly has any time outside of you and work and you’re still a child yourself.” She fell silent for a moment. “I’m not calling you a bad mom.”
You laughed humorlessly. “Okay.”
“Elvis thinks you need help, that’s why I’m here,” She said. “For Lark, and for you.”
“You suddenly agree with Elvis now?”
“I’m not ashamed of admitting that he’s right. Me being here is what’s best. At least until you grow up a little.”
“I’m a grown ass woman, Andrea, there’s no growing left to do,” You said. “If you didn’t send me away and insist on doing every little thing for her, then maybe I’d be able to grow as a mother. But no, you have to do it.”
“It’s my job.”
You wanted to send her away but you refrained. You didn’t want to fight in front of Lark. “You know what? I used to think we were friends. Best friends, actually. I used to look up to you and I wanted to be like you. But you’re no better than me, you’re not any smarter than me, and you may be older, but you’re no wiser. You’re just a scared little girl deep down inside—scrambling to figure out what to do with yourself now that no one wants you.”
“You aren’t hurting me.”
“I don’t want you here, Elvis doesn’t want you here. He tolerates you because of what you can do for him, but as soon as he decides he’s done with you, you’re gone.” You shrugged indolently. “And your poor husband, he abandoned ship quickly. He lasted, what, two years?”
“You don’t want to do this,” Andrea warned, sitting the bowl in her hand down before shifting towards you. “I get that he tears you down to keep you in check but that’s not going to work on me.”
“I don’t need anyone to keep me in check.” You stepped towards her. “I’m here because I chose to be.”
“That’s a laugh.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here~”
“It’s not about Lark and not about me, so don’t fucking lie.”
“You need to back up.”
“Or what?”
You stood there for a moment, waiting for her response as the two of you glared at each other.
“What’s going on?” Elvis asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen and stepping between the two of you. “What are y’all doing?”
“I’m leaving,” Andrea said, still glaring angrily at you. “Take care of your own kid for a change.”
“If you leave now, you better not come back,” You spat. “I fucking mean it.”
“What is the matter with you?” Elvis asked.
You were shocked to see that his question was directed at you. “Me?”
“She must be off her meds.”
“Fuck you, Andrea~”
“Hey,” Elvis said sternly. “Stop talking like that in front of your daughter.”
“Stop chastising me, I don’t have to do anything you say,” You snapped. “I can’t believe you’re scolding me right now.”
“Don’t go anywhere, please,” He said to Andrea as he grabbed you by the arm, preparing to drag you out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“I’m doing you a favor by being here,” Andrea said, tears forming in her eyes despite her angered expression. “I’m not gonna stick around to be berated and talked down to by her. You created this mess, you need to fix it.”
“What do you think I’m tryna do?” Elvis asked, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “Just watch the baby.”
You pulled away from him and stormed out of the kitchen—he followed you directly. You were trying hard not to cry as you mounted the stairs and made a break for the bedroom. “I can’t believe you’re on her side.”
“There are no sides here,” He commented, slamming the door behind the two of you. “You’re being a fucking nightmare.”
“All I wanted was to be there when they came downstairs.” You faced him with tears in your eyes. “That’s all. I didn’t want to fight—with you or with her. You don’t even know what happened and you’re defending her like she’s your friend. She hates you. She thinks you’re a vain, pompous idiot.”
“She’s helped us through a lot since she’s agreed to come back~”
“How much are you paying her?”
“Excuse me?”
“How much money, Elvis—she’s not helping us, she’s working for you. She’s not doing you any favors if you’re paying her.”
“That’s enough.”
“You don’t even know what happened~”
“I heard all I needed to hear, alright?”
You glared up at him with tears in your eyes, hurt and betrayed. “You’re supposed to defend me.”
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t defend you when you act like this. You make me fucking livid when you act like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like a horrible fucking person.”
You stood there for a moment—shrinking in your skin—before walking past him, back towards the door. You wanted to leave but there was nowhere to go. “I can’t do anything right.”
You felt him cross the room before his hands were on your shoulders. “You have to try harder to understand that Andrea’s not threatening your role as Lark’s mama. She’s tryna help you.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. You warned him not to follow you when you walked out of the room. Ray was there before you could even get outside the front door to sit down on the top step of the porch.
“You okay?” He asked, watching you with a skeptical expression.
“No,” You sighed. “I think everyone hates me.”
You invited him to sit down—it was better than having him stand there hovering. You felt sorry that he had been subjected to dealing with you.
*
“What are you doing?”
“Hiding.”
“From what?”
“You.”
Space existed before and now it was like it never did. There was no space, there was no such thing as being alone. You found peace in solitude—without solitude, there was no peace, no room, no air to breathe.
“Me?”
You wanted to be alone and you wanted to drown out all the sounds that reminded you that you weren’t.
“What’d I do?”
“Nothing, yet…”
Elvis walked over and killed the washing machine, then the dryer. He looked down at you on the laundry room floor.
“Why here?”
“I didn’t think anyone would find me here.”
He didn’t pick you up off the floor and tell you to get yourself together—that’s what you were expecting. He never did anything you expected him to. When would you learn that?
“You worry me when you do shit like this,” He said instead. There was a strange expression on his face that made you believe him.
“I’m sorry,” You responded, outing the cigarette in your hand and dropping it in the tray with the rest of the butts.
“What’s the matter, honey?” He asked, stepping back to pull the door shut before facing you. He kneeled down next to you. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”
You wanted to cry, you hadn’t been yourself since you were seventeen and living with your mother. Before graduation, before her illness had progressed and her condition worsened. That was the last time you felt like an entire human being. Since, you’ve been scrambling and grasping onto anything and anyone that made you feel like you had your own identity. When in reality all you were doing was morphing into whatever they needed you to be—whoever they wanted you to be. You were at a point now where you couldn’t morph into anything anyone wanted you to be. You couldn’t make yourself be what they needed. You were worthless if you couldn’t be what they needed.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Why are you crying?”
“It hurts.”
“What does?
“Everything. I feel…trapped.”
He fell silent.
“I just want to feel alone.”
“Go upstairs, then.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Lark.”
You weren’t fit for the life you had created for yourself, but you weren’t able to admit—or even acknowledge—that at the time. You didn’t understand the feelings enough to express them in the right way, so you repressed them instead.
“You have to get over this, birdie. It’s not Lark’s fault you…”
“Say it.”
“I don’t understand why you wanted her before and you don’t want her now.”
“I want her…she wants Andrea.”
“No~”
“She doesn’t cry when Andrea holds her. She doesn’t.”
“She’ll never get used to you if you refuse to do anything for her~”
“This is why I didn’t want you to find me. You make me feel like shit. You make me feel like I can’t do anything right. I can’t be what she needs and I can’t be what you need—I just can’t.”
“You’re throwing a pity party.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to do it without having to hear a thousand people screaming and running around~”
“Then go upstairs~”
“I’ll kill myself.”
“What?”
“That’s what you do to me…you make me want to~”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up.”
“You don’t need to talk at all if you’re gonna say horrible shit like that. Just to, what, get a rise out of me?”
“You don’t care enough to do anything about it.”
“You want to sit in here listening to the fucking dryer, then by all means. But you don’t get to tell me that I don’t care. Like I said, I’m worried about you. You’re acting like a goddamn patient.”
You could’ve screamed and pitched a fit, really put on a show. But you couldn’t even force yourself to cry.
“I hate you.”
“Birdie~”
“I hate you and I hate it here.”
“Then leave.”
“You’re an idiot.”
His jaw clenched but he didn’t bite your head off.
“You’ve convinced the last person that I thought genuinely understood me that I’m too useless to do anything right. Andrea used to be my best friend and you got to her like you get to everyone.”
“Andrea feels the way she feels because of the way you act, that’s not my fault.”
“She never thought of me this way before.”
“You weren’t a mother then.”
You sighed. “Is that all I am now? Is that all I get to be?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.”
You shrugged, unsatisfied with his silence, and fished another cigarette from the silver case on the floor. He stayed for a moment before standing and turning the washer and dryer back on.
“I love you,” He said, stalling so that you could respond.
“You too.”
“Huh?”
“I love you too, Elvis.”
*
You should’ve felt whole.
Instead, you felt hollow–like your insides had been carved out.
“You can talk to me.”
You should’ve been happy.
Instead, you felt numb–like nothing could hurt you, but everything did.
“About what?”
You knew that the feelings would subside.
At least you hoped they would–quickly rather than slowly.
“He said you spent a week sitting in the laundry room.”
“I did not.”
You may have retreated to your only place of true solace at some point every day for the past week.
You may have spent hours there–trying not to go insane or going insane, you couldn’t tell.
“I saw you.”
“What do you want, Andrea?”
You hoped the feelings would subside.
As they always did when you pushed them away long enough.
Subside?
Succumb to repression?
“I know we aren’t close anymore, but I still care about you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“‘Hurt myself?’”
“He told me what you said.”
You didn’t have to have a clue.
He made sure of that.
So you pretended not to.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“He thinks you should stay with Dawn for a few days.”
“I doubt it.”
“I told him you should.”
You weren’t drowning.
But he was.
You weren’t afraid of letting it take you.
But he was.
You could repress–replace–repair.
But he couldn’t.
“I think you should get away. Reset a little.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Really?”
“Really…I’m fine.”
Reset.
Repress the thoughts. Replace the feelings. Repair what was broken—ignore what you couldn’t.
Move on.
*
You wanted Dawn. You wanted to talk to her and let her comfort you while you cried. But it was too late to disturb her—it was too late to disturb anyone, but Ray was there. He was always there, lurking just around the corner and anticipating your every move.
“What are you doing?” He asked when he found you walking around the yard alone. It was peaceful for a change and there wasn’t a crowd of people to hide from.
“I was…pacing, I guess.” You chuckled halfheartedly. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing, really, just…” He shrugged.
“Watching me?” You smiled at the way he shook his head in denial despite it being his job to keep an eye on you.
“Everyone’s inside,” He said, as if you didn’t know. “You should get back.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want to.”
He squinted. “Why?”
“I was trying to sneak away.” You struggled to force a short laugh as you suppressed your tears. You hadn’t felt like crying a moment ago. “I guess you caught me.”
Ray came up with a handkerchief and handed it to you. There was a disconcerting expression on his face as he watched you dry your tears.
“What?” You asked, slightly annoyed by his expression. You didn’t expect him to express himself at all—you figured he’d received the same instructions as Liz and knew what he could and couldn’t say to you. He sighed and contemplated his response.
“It’s hard to understand why you’re so upset all the time.” He didn’t mean to place all the blame on you, but suddenly you felt like the problem.
“I-I’m…I think I’m a horrible person,” You confessed. “And I think everyone hates me because of it.”
He shook his head. “You aren’t a horrible person.”
You sighed, drying your eyes. “Maybe.”
“…He wants me to get you to come back in.”
“I know.”
“What should I tell him?”
You shook your head. “I’m right behind you.”
He didn’t move. “You first.”
It was like being imprisoned—he was your prison guard. You forced your feet to move despite wanting to be outside a little longer.
“Maybe we can go for a drive tomorrow.” He felt it too.
“I’d like that,” You responded halfheartedly.
You couldn’t breathe.
*
“Where are y’all goin?”
“Probably just up the road and back.”
You tried not to listen as Ray and Elvis deliberated over the drive that you had made plans for. It annoyed you that they were discussing so much about something so simple.
“How long is this gonna take?”
“If it’s conflicting with your schedule~”
“It’s not, I just don’t want her out too long.”
“An hour?”
“Less.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s a drive around town, not a trip to mars, E.”
He was annoyed when he spoke to you. “I’m tryna make sure nothing happens to you, if that’s alright.”
He always made it difficult, despite being so willing to give you the opportunity to go and come as you pleased. You didn’t understand how he could okay something and block you from doing it at the same time.
“Just around here,” Elvis instructed as he kissed your temple. “Don’t be a brat.”
“Don’t be a control freak,” You shot back, laughing when he bit your neck. “Don’t!”
“Be good,” He said as he let you go. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
*
“What?”
“You’re in a good mood.”
Your smile almost faltered and you shrugged. “Have I not been in a good mood lately?”
He laughed. “I’d say.”
“Well, I guess I’m back to regular.”
“I’m glad. I missed my happy birdie.”
You laughed and protested when he tickled your sides, trying to squirm out of his arms. “No!”
He flinched away from you. “Don’t scream bloody murder~”
“What was I supposed to do?” You laughed through labored breathing. “I hate when you do that.”
He laughed and pulled you back into his arms. “You’re a lunatic.”
You smiled. “I guess we’re a pair of lunatics.”
“How was Dawny today?” He asked, stroking your shoulder.
“We stopped by but we didn’t stay long,” You said. “I don’t think she cares about seeing me unless I have Lark.”
“Not true.”
“Well…” You were silent for a moment.
“So what were you doing the whole time you were gone?” Elvis asked. You hummed in confusion. “If you only stopped at Dawn’s for a second…?”
“Oh, we drove around, you know,” You said. “I thought it was fine since we were already out.”
“Do you do that often?”
“Do what?”
“Go places without telling me first.”
You were tense suddenly and you wanted to move out of his embrace. “…No?”
“Why’re you unsure?”
“You seem upset.”
“Should I be?”
You were tense suddenly and you wanted to move out of his embrace. “…No?”
“Why’re you unsure?”
You shifted onto your stomach and looked at him. “I didn’t think you’d be upset.”
He propped up on his elbow. “If you didn’t think I’d be upset you would’ve told me about it.”
“You’re ruining it.” You moved to sit up but he stopped you.
“Unless there’s some other reason you didn’t want me to know.” He held you still by your forearm, waiting for a response.
“Can you just tell me what you’re insinuating?” You huffed. “I don’t know why you can’t ever let the night go by peacefully.”
“I’m asking simple questions, birdie.”
“What do you think I was doing?”
“I think you’ve been telling me you’re going to see Dawn and then going off other places.”
“Of course you think that, Elvis. You don’t trust me.”
He let you go when you pulled away from him, but he was still waiting for you to plead your case.
“We stopped at Dawn’s and then drove around town for a few hours,” You said, standing and shrugging your robe on. “Is that a crime?”
“You drove around town for hours?” He asked, obviously unconvinced as he stood and rounded the end of the bed. He towered over you, taking your silence as intimidation. “Answer me.”
“Yes.” You wanted to step back but you stopped yourself. “What do you think we did? Hole up somewhere and fuck the afternoon away?”
“I never said~”
“Lucky for you he’s just as scared of you as everyone else.”
“…So, what, you tried it?”
“There may have been a moment where I thought~” You gasped in shock when he grabbed the bottom of your face, his grip forcing you to stop talking.
“What does that mean?” He asked, his eyes narrowed in disgust. “Do you and him have something going?”
“No, E.” You felt like crying when you pushed him away. “It means you ruined the night. Again.”
“You’re telling me you’re having an emotional affair but I’m the one ruining the night~”
“Do not blow this out of proportion, Elvis, I swear~”
“And you wonder why I don’t trust you? You’ll never see him again.”
”You’d probably be putting him out of his misery.” You sighed, turning to step into your house shoes. “I’m sleeping in Lark’s room.”
You saw less and less of Ray until, one random day, he never showed up. You asked Elvis what he’d said to him but of course he denied telling him anything.
He disappeared like he was never there.
*
“What’s next?”
“I don’t know. They’re talking about some Christmas special…I don’t think I’ll do it.”
“You should~”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well…they want Lark and me to come down to the studio for Noel’s mommy and me catalog.”
“I don’t know how I feel about you taking her to have her picture made for the press every other week.”
“It’s not the press, it’s Noel.”
“She’s three years old. She shouldn’t be having checks cut on her behalf.”
“It’s fun, and she loves it. She comes to life in front of the camera, you should see her.”
“Hm.”
“Don’t be a gwumpy pants.”
He shook his head, traces of a smile appearing on his face.
“Mr. Gwumpy,” You said, stepping behind him and hugging him as he stood in the mirror getting ready for bed.
“Stop.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No.”
You peaked around him into the mirror. “Then why are you smiling?”
You laughed with him for a moment before he was pushing you away. “I’m smiling because you’re pissing me off.”
“Yeah, right,” You chuckled, tutting as he left the bathroom. “If you don’t want us to do the shoot we won’t.”
“You can do whatever you want.”
“I wish you’d come with us.”
No response.
You found him sprawled out on the bed, staring up at himself in the mirror above the bed.
“Come on, baby,” You said, wandering over to the record player. “What do you want to hear?”
“I don’t want to hear anything.”
“I know you want to hear something~”
“Birdie~”
“Do you want me to sing to you?”
“Don’t.” He closed his eyes, suppressing a smile.
“‘A little bitty tear let me down, spoiled my act as a clown.’”
He laughed. “Go easy on ‘em, Burl.”
“Come on, E,” You encouraged, crawling up onto the bed and shaking his arm. “Help me out.”
“‘I had it made up not to make a frown,’” He sang halfheartedly.
“But?” You prompted enthusiastically.
“But a little bitty titty let me down,” He was laughing before he’d sung the lyrics, and you smiled as he stumbled through his laughter carelessly.
“But a little bitty tear,” You corrected. “Sing it straight.”
“I don’t do anything straight,” He said, dropping his voice. “I’m twisted up.”
“You’re not twisted,” You said. “You’re just the only person who sees the world like you do. It makes sense to you.”
“You think the world makes sense to me?”
“You act like it does.”
He sighed. “I don’t even know if I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing half the time.”
“Of course you are. You’re amazing.”
“You have to say that.”
“I don’t have to say anything. The world thinks it.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear what the world thinks, maybe I want to hear what you think.”
“I think you’re amazing.”
“Is that you talking or the world?”
You rolled your eyes and laid down on your back beside him. “Tell me what you want to hear, E.”
“…I don’t want to hear anything.”
“You’re the best at what you do. No one does it like you.”
“No one acts in shitty films like me.”
“I loved Blue Hawaii~”
“Everyone loved blue Hawaii, how do you think we got here?”
You tried not to smile.
“You’re full of shit.” He laughed when he said it so you didn’t feel bad.
“I’m trying to say the right thing.”
“I don’t need you to say the right things all the time, birdie,” He said. “I need you to tell me the truth.”
“So you can tear me apart about it?”
“So I’ll know it’s the truth.”
“…To me, everything you do is great.” It wasn’t a lie, but you knew it wasn’t the truth he wanted to hear. “I could watch them all over again, honest.”
“But you wouldn’t.”
“I would, some of them I have.”
He sighed. “It doesn’t matter, you’re one person compared to, what, millions. Ten years of my fucking life. That’s what we’re talking about. Wasted, down the drain right there.”
“Take the experience for what it was.”
“What was it besides a million years of humiliation~”
“It’s almost over.”
He scoffed and moved to sit up, but you stopped him.
“I’m sorry,” You tried. “I’ll never understand how you feel~”
“Stop tryna guess at what I want you to say,” He snapped.
“I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“I want you to act like you can carry a conversation without me telling you what to think. You act like that in front of other people and they look at me like you’re a fucking~”
“Do you see what you’re doing?”
“I’m asking you to be honest with me.”
“I haven’t lied to you.”
He relaxed again but he still shook his head in contempt. You propped yourself up on your elbow and ran a soothing hand over his stomach. “Do it a few more times, baby. I know you can. Who knows, maybe the special will be a good break from everything. It’ll get people excited again~”
“I don’t want to talk business~”
“It’s not business, it’s my opinion.”
“I don’t want to hear your opinions about my business.”
You let the silence after his words linger until you could think of something else to say. “I’m sorry that you’re upset.”
“It’s not your fault.” He seemed genuine. “I’m screwed up.”
“I love every part of you.”
“Why?”
You laughed. “…I can’t tell you all the reasons.”
“Just one.”
“I love you because…you make me feel good.”
His gaze dropped and a hint of a smile returned to his face. “Is that the number one reason?”
“It’s pretty high on the list,” You said. “I also love you because you’re compassionate and you always manage to find the silver lining, even if it takes some effort.”
He contemplated your response. “Of course you’d say that.”
He checked your reaction and laughed. You smiled despite yourself. “Was that okay?”
“Yeah, that was good.”
“Good.”
He sighed. “I have to do something that matters…at least one thing.”
You hummed in agreement. ”You’ll land on your feet, E. You always do.”
“I can’t land. I gotta go up.”
“Up?”
“Up and up and up.”
“Then you’ll do it.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so.”
Still haunted by mortality and the feeling of never doing or being enough, the sun set on his sorrows, and, in the morning, all was well.
╭──────────.★..─╮
*Chapter Fifteen*
╰─..★.──────────╯
WC: 5k
Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love
Pairing: elvis x black reader
Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items
Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
finale pt. 2
“They want you for the cover of Harper’s Bazaar.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Why?”
“Because they think you’re ‘extraordinarily beautiful,’” He said, quoting the request directly. “‘Otherworldly.’
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Well, I happen to agree that you’re out of this world.”
He smiled as you sat down in his lap, hugging his neck as you glanced over the letter. You thought about the offer for a moment.
“You don’t have to think about it too much,” Elvis said when he noticed your contemplation. “I’ll tell them you don’t want to do it.”
“Will you do it with me?”
“They didn’t ask me, dirty bird, they asked you.”
You laughed. “I know but…we do everything together.”
You knew if Elvis was on the cover they’d hardly spare you a glance. Doing it alone opened up the floor for criticism—criticism you no longer had the tolerance for. Though the hit pieces you saw were few and far between (Elvis made sure of that) you knew there was another level of hate out there.
“It should be all about you,” He said. “You have a few months to make up your mind.”
“They may not want me in a few months.”
“Why’s that?”
You shrugged dismissively. “I might be pregnant.”
You felt him tense beneath you. “You think?”
“I don’t know,” You said. “I’m late but…I’ve been late before.”
“They said there was a chance~”
“I don’t want to get excited. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“That mindset won’t get you far.”
“And being optimistic will?”
You stood up before he could respond, taking the lighter from the corner of his desk. He watched you wordlessly as you took a cigarette from its case and lit it.
“How late?”
“Don’t start with the questions, E.”
He stood with a sigh, dropping the pen that he had been fidgeting with. “Well, let me know when you start giving a fuck.”
You faced him. “You’re upset?”
“No.” You stopped him from leaving. “Birdie, I don’t care if you don’t.”
“I care,” You said. “I’m just scared.”
“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then that’s just it.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do understand.”
“Do you know what a miscarriage feels like?”
He retracted, but he was still upset. “I don’t see the point in trying if we’re gonna ignore it when it happens.”
“I’m not ignoring it,” You said. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Well.” He walked past you. “I guess we’ll see.”
The months slipped by agonizingly slow. It was a miserable day every day you woke up still pregnant. It wasn’t that you hoped for another miscarriage, you just hated the anticipation of it all. It was hard to even acknowledge the fact.
You were measuring small, even towards the end of term. The doctors told you it was due to stress. It wasn’t the baby that was stressing you out however.
“I can’t believe I’m the one telling you that we need to get some things in order around here,” Elvis said, forcing you out of bed. “That sucker’s gonna pop out any day now, honey. They told us that weeks ago.”
“It’s fine,” You complained. “I’m sure someone will have the room ready overnight if you ask them.”
“This ain’t the inn, birdie,” He said. “You don’t just put it together in one day. Shouldn’t you have some kind of maternal instinct by now?”
You weren’t prepared to have a baby, let alone be a mother. You feared that you’d mess it up, like you mess up everything else.
“Come help me put this thing together,” Elvis said, returning to his passion project for that afternoon—the baby’s bassinet.
“Put it together in the nursery,” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t make sense to do it here.”
“She’s not sleeping alone in a nursery,” He said. “You gotta keep her close the first few months at least. Unless you want a psychopath on our hands.”
“You read too much.”
“You don’t read enough.”
“Down the hall isn’t close enough?”
“Don’t be cruel.”
You watched him as he intently read the instructions word for word—ordering you around as he did so.
“A should snap into D,” He said, pointing the pieces out to you. “And B into C.”
“What?”
“A and D, B and C.”
“That’s so stupid.”
“Let me do it.”
It felt like everything was happening to you. You were nothing more than a variable in this equation and life was insistent on working you out.
~
“Just breathe for a second~”
“Is it happening?”
“Calm down~”
“Is it really happening?”
“Birdie, relax.”
You couldn’t, how could you? You were in labor, actual labor. Elvis had kept his wits about him when you told him but that didn’t stop you from succumbing to the feeling of impending doom that you had been trying to outrun for the past eight and a half months.
“Get off the phone, E,” You said, rushing him along. “We need to get there before they really start. I can’t handle it.”
“I’m coming,” He said, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “Go get dressed, you can’t go out like that.”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
“Go change,” He insisted. “You could use the distraction while I get this together.”
“Please hurry,” You said, going to find something decent to wear. “I don’t want to feel anything. I can’t take it, I already told you~”
“I know, darlin,” He said halfheartedly. “We’re practically already there.”
You were fully in labor when you arrived at the hospital and barely in time for the epidural. But, after twelve and a half hours, you were welcoming your first daughter into the world.
It was a moment that already felt surreal in your head but even more so as you watched it all play out in front of you. It was painless—as painless as it could be—and you were happy. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. In reality, you had no idea what you were feeling.
“Birdie?”
“Hm?”
“Her name.”
Your eyes met Elvis’s as you held your daughter. He looked down at the both of you with such admiration.
“Are you asking me what it should be?”
“No, I’m telling you.”
“Birdie’s no name for a baby, E.”
“It could be.”
You looked down at the child in your arms, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands balled into tiny fists. “How about…Lark?”
“…I like it.” Elvis kissed your temple before leaning his head against yours and looking down at his daughter. “Y’know…we’re gonna have to tell the press soon.”
“Yeah, I know,” You responded. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
“It’s no rush.”
“Of course it is. They’re probably camped outside waiting.”
You turned your head when he didn’t respond, finding a telling expression on his face. “E…they are not camped outside waiting.”
“I don’t know how they found out~”
“Why would you say anything about telling them if they already know?” Your shift in tone startled the sleeping newborn in your arms, causing her to fuss. “Oh god, take her please~”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You weren’t sure if he was consoling you or the baby as he took her and stood from the bed. “It’s okay, hunna.”
You stared in the direction of the window, unable to see out but still picturing the press crowded around the building.
“What are they saying?” You asked, looking at him. “I know you’ve heard something so don’t lie to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” He said in a hushed tone, walking the baby over to the crib that the hospital provided. “It’s just a shock, really. Most of the reactions are good.”
You didn’t believe him but you didn’t argue. You were too tired to go back and forth any longer.
After a restless night, you were awoken by Elvis saying that you were being discharged.
“Liz is here.”
“Why?”
“We have to go through the press to get out of here.”
“Is there really no other way?”
“They want to see us.”
You went through hair and makeup, nursing Lark along the way. You handed her off quickly after she was fed.
“Doesn’t hurt to hold her sometimes, bert,” Elvis said.
“Please don’t start calling me that,” You complained tensely as Liz zipped the back of your dress. You could hardly breathe in the stiff fabric.
“You don’t like it?” He laughed.
“No,” You exclaimed. “How do you get ‘bert’ from ‘birdie?’”
“D’You hear it, Lizzie?” He asked.
Liz shrugged and muttered something about hearing where he’d gotten it from.
“I can’t hear it,” You said. “I also can’t breathe.”
“You definitely don’t look like you had a baby twenty-four hours ago,” Liz said, adding the final touches. “They’ll love it.”
You enjoyed your brief interactions with Liz. She wasn’t talkative—by nature or per Elvis’s request you didn’t know. She finished up and left.
“What’s wrong?” Elvis asked when she was gone, laying the baby down.
“I don’t want them to see me,” You confessed. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”
“Why?” He wondered. “You’re beautiful.”
Your eyes threatened to roll at the compliment. You didn’t feel beautiful. You felt sore and tired—all but beautiful.
“It’ll be quick,” Elvis said. “Like tearin off a bandaid.”
The nurses insisted that you be wheeled to the car but you politely declined. You could make it walking.
Lark was carried out in her car seat first, heavily protected on all sides before you and Elvis casually strolled out of the building. It was pure chaos outside but you tuned everything out. When you finally made it to the car Elvis let you in before following suit. It was quick, like he promised.
*
“Andrea?”
You were shocked to see her waiting for you in the foyer when you arrived back at Graceland. She stopped you before you grew excited.
“I came back for the baby.”
You smiled despite her cold demeanor. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
Her expression softened when Elvis entered with the car seat in tow. He sighed as he shut the front door.
“You came,” He stated.
“For the baby,” Andrea clarified again, kneeling down to peek at her in the carrier. “What’s her name?”
“Lark,” You responded. “Like the bird.”
“You named her after a bird?” Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s sentimental.” You shrugged. “You don’t like it?”
“I think it’s a beautiful name.”
Your head snapped instantly in the direction of Dawn’s voice. She stood off to the side watching the interaction unfold.
“Aunt Dawn,” You said delightfully. “You made it.”
“I promised I would,” She said, opening her arms and wrapping you in her familiar embrace. “I had to see this to believe it.”
You felt small in her arms, like the child you once were. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She rubbed your back as she held you. “I’m here.”
“Let’s get you to bed, little bit,” Elvis said, cutting your embrace short. “Doctor’s orders.”
Things were different around the house with the baby and Andrea. Dawn stayed for a few days but ultimately returned to her house a few minutes up the road.
You promised to bring Lark over as often as you could, and you meant it. You aimed to go over every other weekend, but that changed into whenever Elvis could make the trip. He hated for you to visit Dawn on your own. You hadn’t paid it any mind until she brought it up one evening.
“It’s like he’s afraid to leave you alone with me,” She complained. “I’m your aunt. I practically raised you.”
“It’s not like that, Aunt Dawn,” You said as you buckled Lark into her seat. “He hates for me to travel alone. That’s all. There are crazy people out there.”
“He hates for you to do anything alone. It’s concerning.”
“No, it’s sweet. And he really enjoys our visits.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t do this.”
“I hardly recognize you. You look exhausted.”
“That’s because I am exhausted.”
“Andrea and Joel seem to think~”
“Are you really going to let Joel and Andrea ruin our day? They’re the reason he hardly lets me come over anyway. Have they turned you against him too?”
“My worry for you has nothing to do with my feelings about him.”
“Don’t believe anything they say, it’s all made up.”
“Why would they make these things up?”
“Because they don’t want to see us together.”
Elvis appeared from the house then, carrying Lark’s missing pacifier.
“Where was it, baby?” You asked, ignoring the disconcerted expression on Dawn’s face.
“Under the couch,” He said. “The drive back would’ve been hell without it.”
“You two be careful,” Dawn said. “It’s getting dark soon.”
“We will be,” You said, stepping forward and hugging her. “Don’t worry about me. Please, I’m okay.”
“See you, Dawny,” Elvis said, hugging her briefly as well. “I’ll bring them by again soon.”
“I look forward to it.” She watched the two of you climb into the car and waved as you left.
“What’s got her so worried about you?”
“Hm?”
“Dawn. You told her not to worry?”
You shrugged dismissively. “She’s always like that.”
He hummed, unsatisfied with your response. “Did you say something in particular to get her like that?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know…she said I looked tired.”
Andrea was there to scoop up Lark the minute you got back. She claimed to not trust the two of you alone with her. She meant it as a joke but a part of you couldn’t help but think she was serious.
“I was about to take her upstairs,” You said. “She needs to get changed and fed.”
“I can do it,” Andrea offered as she bounced Lark in her arms. “I don’t mind.”
“That’s alright~”
“Let her do it,” Elvis said. “We’re gonna be down here anyway.”
“I was going to,” You said as he took the diaper bag from your shoulder and handed it off to Andrea. “It’ll only take a second.”
“I don’t mind,” Andrea insisted. “Go relax. I’m on baby duty.”
“Come on, bert,” Elvis said, laughing at the nickname as he guided you away.
You watched Andrea carefully climb the stairs until she was out of your view.
The scene downstairs was too chaotic and you would’ve preferred to be anywhere else. Elvis kept a heavy arm around your shoulders as you sat silently by his side amongst the group.
Despite your presence, there were still numerous women who had taken the same mundane interest in him as the hundreds (thousands, or even millions) who came before them. You couldn’t blame them, or the way they stared shamelessly—he was too beautiful to only steal a glance.
What they wanted from him was surface level, they craved his body, but his mind and soul were yours—some crude part of you wanted them to know that. You felt invisible next to him as their eyes locked on his every move.
“What?” Elvis asked when he noticed you shifting closer.
“I want to go upstairs,” You said, giving him a look and hoping he’d understand. You placed a suggestive hand on his thigh to further express your point. “Please.”
“Don’t, birdie, come on,” He scolded, moving your hand from his thigh.
“I need you,” You said. “Don’t you want me?”
His jaw twitched. “Why are you being like that in front of all these people?”
“They like watching so much, I figured we’d put on a show.”
“What?”
“A show, y’know…”
His eyes narrowed as he processed what you were saying.
“I want them to know that you’re mine,” You confessed.
“And the only way to prove that is to…?”
“Show them.”
“How?” He laughed.
“Kiss me,” You insisted. “Touch me.”
“You’re crazy,” He muttered under his breath. “I don’t know how I put up with you.”
His words hurt but in some sort of satisfying way.
He kissed your cheek and his deep voice vibrated in your ear when he whispered, “Go upstairs.”
You stood, trying not to pout as you left the room. You stopped by Lark’s nursery on your way by and you saw Andrea but you didn't make your presence known as you watched them. She was so good with her.
Elvis came up the stairs as you stood there and you immediately went to the bedroom without a word. You shut the door behind yourself, making him open it moments later.
“What? You have a problem with me?” He asked, slamming the door.
You faced him—crossing your arms.
“How can I help that they were looking at us?”
“They were looking at you, not me.”
“D’you know who I was looking at? You.”
“Do they know that?”
“Who cares what they know?”
“I do.”
“So, what, you want me to fuck you in a room full of people?”
You pushed him away when he stepped closer but even with all your strength he didn’t budge. You struggled against him when he grabbed your wrists, trying to pull away. His grip tightened and he forced you into a rough kiss. As much as you wanted to deny him you gave in quickly.
He made you straddle him when he sat on the edge of the bed, assisting your movements with a tight grip on your waist and making you grind your core against the bulge forming in his pants.
“You’re gonna finish what you were trying to start out there,” He said. “Do you understand?”
You aren’t sure what came over you in that moment, but you brought your right hand up and struck his cheek in one swift motion. He seemed as shocked by the action as you were, his head cocked to the side—frozen for a moment before acting suddenly.
He stood and shoved you onto your back, wrapping a hand around your neck.
You nodded in encouragement. “Hit me back.”
He kissed you, there was a gentleness lingering behind his touch that you wanted him to let go of. “Don’t be brutal.”
“I want it.”
“You want me to hit you?”
“Yes.”
He examined your expression for a moment before pulling away. You waited as he sat back on his heels and silently removed his shirt.
“Take off your dress,” He finally said, waiting expectantly.
You smiled and shook your head ‘no.’ He was on you immediately, forcing you onto your front before unzipping the back of your dress. He stripped you, leaving you in only your heels and panties.
“On your back,” He demanded.
You turned over but immediately lifted your foot, using the pointed end of your heel to keep him from coming closer. He grabbed your ankle and ripped the shoe from your foot before wrestling the other off.
He forced himself between your legs. You tried to push him away but he pinned your hands beside your head—he wasn’t letting up but you could feel his frustration building.
You forced a heavy moan and arched your back, playing up your pleasure and becoming pliant. He released your wrists and you put your arms around his shoulders—you let him kiss you fully before grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling. You tugged harshly and he groaned.
“Don’t do that,” He said through clenched teeth. “Fucking let go.”
“Make me,” You challenged. “Hit me.”
“What’s that do for you?”
“It makes me feel like yours.”
You closed your eyes as he kissed you, releasing your grip on his hair.
“You are mine,” He muttered against your lips. “I don’t have to hit you to prove that, do I?”
“No,” You agreed, trying not to let your excitement show as he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.
“You’re my girl?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what that means?”
Your eyes widened when his ring and middle fingers suddenly pushed past your lips, forcing your tongue down. You gagged and tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. The rings on his fingers clanked uncomfortably against your teeth but you couldn’t avoid them.
“It means—” His face was close to yours. “—that you hold yourself together when other girls make you jealous, you don’t fall apart and turn into a desperate nag.” He only pulled away after you choked, his fingers covered in your saliva. “You should know that by now, birdie. You’re actin like an amateur.”
You hardly had a second to breathe before he was forcing you onto your back.
“You’re always asking why I never use your mouth and you can’t even handle two fingers. It’s fucking adorable.” His words must’ve had the effect he wanted them to, because he laughed when you started struggling again. “You’re just a little girl. You don’t know the first thing about what you’re getting into when you ask me to do shit like this to you.”
“You’d rather fuck one of them?”
“I probably would’ve if it weren’t for your bad attitude.”
You fought harder but he held you down under half his body weight.
“You don’t like that?” He asked knowingly, grunting as he thrusted his touch-starved erection against your core.
“No, I don’t fucking like that,” You spat. “You’re an asshole.”
“Your mouth.” He tutted, disapprovingly.
“Fuck you.”
“Say it again.”
“Fuck y~”
You were stunned by the slap that crossed your face. It didn’t hurt but it stung in an addicting way and made you throb with desperation.
“That’s what you want?” He asked, you could hear the panic reserved in his tone. He was checking in.
“Yes,” You reassured him.
“When did you get like this?” He muttered, sitting up and instructing you to remove his belt. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after being such a mean little thing.”
You sat up with him to unbuckle the belt. He took your face in his hands and kissed you, still unable to resist your lips.
“Say you love me,” He demanded, breaking the kiss. “Fucking say it.”
“I love you,” You said. “I love you, I love you, I love you~”
“Alright, shut up,” He interrupted. “You’re gonna get yourself off, d’you think you can do that?”
You followed him as he sat back against the headboard, letting him force you to straddle him. You brought your hand up in an attempt to land your revenge, but he caught your wrist before you could connect.
“Don’t try it again.” He tore your underwear from around your waist, ruining them. “Take my rings off.”
You reached for his hand and he pulled it out of your reach.
“Uh, uh,” He hummed. “Use your mouth.”
You hesitate but parted your lips anyway. He swore as you used your mouth to remove each ring, leaving his fingers glistening with your saliva.
“Last one,” He said as you spit another ring into his right palm and took his left ring finger in your mouth. He hissed as the wedding band slipped from his finger and into your mouth. He stopped you from spitting it out. “Keep it in your mouth. Don’t swallow it.”
You wanted to protest but focused your attention instead on not letting the ring slip down your throat. He kissed your chest as his wet fingers glided through your slick folds.
With his left hand occupied and his right arm wrapped around your back, you had a clear opportunity to land another sharp slap across his cheek.
He released an involuntary gasp upon contact, clenching his jaw and sighing through his nose.
“Spit,” He demanded, holding his left hand out for the ring. You let fall out of your mouth along with the pool of saliva that had collected.
He tossed the ring aside and leaned forward until you laid flat against the bed. He forced his fingers into you, curling them deep.
“It’s not enough that I married you, and gave you my child,” He said through labored breathing. “You want me to use you in a room full of people to prove a point.”
“People you would’ve had the luxury of screwing if I were nicer.”
“You know I say that kind of shit to piss you off.”
You released an accented moan as he slammed his fingers harshly into you, cutting your rebuttal short.
His hand found your throat again and applied more pressure. Your eyes widened in shock when your breathing was interrupted and you struggled to push him off.
“What?” He stopped moving. “Too soft? Harder?”
He waited another second and let go.
“Harder,” You gasped.
“Really?” His thrusts became longer and deeper—making your legs tremble as he reached that spot that made your toes curl. “But you’re crying, mama.”
He knew as well as you did that the tears in your eyes had nothing to do with you crying and everything to do with him choking you moments before. But he’d use the tears as a testimony to your pain if it made you appear frail.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, knowing the answer.
You wanted to tell him to keep going, but it was too much. The last thing you wanted to do was prove him right by affirming your sensitivity. Rather than appear weak, you opted for silence.
“Okay,” He whispered, kissing your lips gently. “I’ll take care of you, darlin, don’t worry.”
He sat up and silently motioned ‘come here’ with both hands—his lids heavy and his pupils blown with lust. You forced yourself to sit up, figuring it best to agree. He wrapped his arms around your torso, expecting you to wrap your legs around his waist.
“Stay,” He whispered. “What’re you gonna do?”
“…Stay.” You shivered when he entered you, relaxing into his hold and completely relinquishing your senses.
“Good girl…see? You can be a sweet girl.”
You couldn’t feel anything outside of him. You couldn’t see, hear, smell, or taste anything…only him.
“You walk around like you have so much to prove,” He said, his voice low in your ear. “I don’t know why.”
You couldn’t respond, you couldn’t form any words as that familiar knot started to form in the pit of your stomach.
“It’s like you’re jealous of a couple of strangers,” He continued, rocking his hips upward to thrust inside of you. “Do you want me to treat you like them? Like I don’t know you—like I don’t love you?”
The world fell away and for a moment you were just a body made up of electricity and burning pleasure. Your eyes rolled and you trembled. He kept going.
“Do you want me fuck you like a stranger?” He muttered, you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you anymore.
“Please,” You whispered, encouraging him. “…fuck me like a stranger.”
His hips stuttered and he came instantly, bursting inside of you like a teenager. You felt the warmth of his release pooling inside of you and seeping between your thighs.
You climbed out of his lap, leaving no time for either of you to come down or catch your breath. You tried to turn away—too woozy to get up—but he grabbed you by the arm and made you face him. You wouldn’t look at him, so he gripped your jaw.
“I love you,” He panted. “I…love you. That’s the difference. That makes all the difference.”
You met his eyes. “That makes everything okay?”
“No,” He admitted. “It doesn’t.”
You couldn’t read his expression—his lids were heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. He was still coming down from his high, not speaking for himself but from his pleasure.
“I’m sorry,” He muttered, nuzzling the crook of your neck.
You hugged him back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to revel in his apology while he was sorry—because you knew he wouldn’t be for long.
He pulled away from the embrace after a few minutes. “Say it back.”
You smiled, you almost thought he hadn’t noticed. “I love you too.”
He smiled, content.
“You should get back out there,” You said. “Seemed like the night was just getting started.”
“I’m not finished with you just yet,” He said, smirking suggestively. “You’ve awoken something inside of me.”
“Oh no,” You said sarcastically, laughing as his hands shamefully roamed your body. “What have I done?”
“Where’s Lark?”
“With Andrea still.”
“Perfect.”
You squeaked in surprise when he rolled onto his back and pulled you onto his lap.
“Tell me what to do."
You paused. "What do you mean?"
His fingernails grazed your bare thighs as he smiled timidly. "I want you to order me around. Make me do things I wouldn’t usually do.”
You would grow to accept that there would be no final retribution or day of reckoning. No fight, no agreement, no threat, no reconciliation.
Those things didn’t matter when it came to the two of you. At the end of it all—good, bad, ugly and indifferent—you two would remain. It was an undisputed truth…wherever you went, you went together.
You could be opposites, or just alike, it’d make no difference. He could be like the sea. Open, free, abundant in what he could give. Charitable, but indulgent. Hazardous, but certain. You could be like the desert. Brutal, unforthcoming, full of life in some areas but destitute in others. Fertile, but not nurturing. Guarded, but unprotected. You could have been all those things and one simple fact would remain.
Wherever there was Elvis Presley, so too was his baby birdie.
—fin.
