Faded Love: Part Three
Pairing: Elvis & female!reader
Summary: After finding out about Elvis infidelity, you decide to have one final decision before you walk out the door for good.
Word Count: ???
Warnings: Confession time, talks of pregnancy, Smut
Author's Notes: Welcome to the final act.
・ʚ♡ɞ・💙・ʚ♡ɞ・
You hang up the phone, and Elvis' heart drops. He's lost you. A tear trickles down his cheek as he hangs up the phone. He calls off the search as you asked, and everything goes quiet.
Elvis goes up to his room to reflect on his life and on you. He kneels in front of the window to pray to God for clarity and guidance, but most of all forgiveness. He wants you back so badly he'd do anything.
"God, I love her," he weeps. "I need a miracle, Lord. Bring her back to me, and I'll never ever screw up again. I'll mend each and every promise I've broken to have her back in my arms. I'll be faithful. I'll pledge my undying love to her and only her. She's the love of my life. Please, Lord."
Elvis collapses on the floor in tears, curling up in the fetal position. Elvis waits for some sort of miracle to happen. He doesn't know what to expect, but he'll wait. He will wait for you.
.....
On the other side of the line, you sit with a cool compress on your head and a heating pad on your tummy. You believe the stress from everything has brought you to this point. You've had break-ups before, but nothing like this. Your stomach is knots, and you feel queezy.
"Y/N?" Sharon starts. "You feeling any better."
"I feel so strange," you answer slowly. "This stress on my body is... I don't know. I just think it would be best if Elvis and I distanced ourselves from one another. He needs to find out what he wants."
"What if he wants you?" Sharon questions. "Are you still going to ask him for a divorce?"
"Yes."
You take a deep breath as you speak. Why do you feel nauseous? You begin to question everything that led to this. Did you eat something bad? Is this a realization and the result of an unfit union?
"Y/N, have you vomited again?" Sharon asks.
"Once, after I hung up the phone with him. I ran straight to the bathroom. It just seems like it's gotten worse over the last couple of days," you admit.
"When did this start?"
"A few weeks ago. On and off a few times. I thought it was stress from Elvis' lack of love for me. That and the roast from the night before."
"Y/N, when was the last time you and Elvis slept together?"
"Three days ago. The day I left him."
"And before that?" Sharon asks.
"A month or so. We made love, and then a few days later, it was like he started to resent me."
"You just start feeling this way?"
"Sharon, what are you getting at?" You ask, rebuking this line of questioning.
Sharon smiles and takes you by the hand. She leads you to the bathroom, placing you in front of the mirror.
"My dearest little sister. You've been sick and moody for a full month. When was the last time you had your period?" Sharon asks.
Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth. You've been so worried about losing Elvis that you didn't realize you skipped your period.
"I... I thought it was stress, Sharon." You say. "I've missed periods before, but I was stressed."
Sharon pulls out a pregnancy test from the bathroom cabinet, handing it to you.
"Let's find out," Sharon says calmly.
.....
Fifteen minutes later...
It only takes ten minutes for you to get an accurate read on a pregnancy test. You are nervous. You can't stop pacing the floor. Your palms are sweaty. Your feet are sore, and your tummy keeps doing flips.
If this test proves you're a mommy. That means Elvis will be a daddy. This changes everything. You want a divorce, yet you want this baby to have both parents. Something you and Sharon didn't have growing up. You have no doubt that Elvis will be a good father. A great father, in fact. He was raised in the home with both his parents. Loving parents who supported him in everything he did. That's what you wanted for your child.
You try to focus on your breath and relax. The last few days have been stressful. If you are pregnant, stress is not good for you.
"Well?" Sharon questions, peeking her head in the door.
"Well, what?" You turn to look at her.
"I'm I going to be an aunt or not?"
You put your hands through your hair and breathe.
"Sharon," you begin with tears in your eyes. "Once I look at the test, my life will forever change.
Sharon slowly walks into the bathroom, placing her hands on your arms she asks you,
"You want me to check for you?"
"I... I... yes... no, don't. Yes, please."
Before you can stop her, Sharon grabs the test off the counter. Her face is blank, giving you no clue as to what the answer is to the questions of the day.
"So???" You breathe and wait with anticipation.
Sharon looks over at you with a small smirk on her face.
"Elvis placed a bun in your oven, Y/N."
"Holy... shit," you breathe a sigh of relief as you place your hands on your stomach.
You are happy, but you are still at a loss for words. This baby isn't just yours, but it's Elvis' as well.
"What am I going to do, Shar?"
"Little sister. You're going home, and you're going to tell Elvis he's going to be a father. I have a feeling he's very sorry. Despite everything that he did. You need to speak to him. Tell him the truth. You can do that much."
Gently, Sharon grabs you and gives you a hug. She does her job as a big sister, comforting you and telling you the truth you try to deny. You are really reluctant to follow her advice, yet you know she's right.
The next day, you borrow Sharon's car to return to Graceland. The drive is only ten miles, but it might as well have been an eternity. Every mile felt like a hundred miles. Your stomach's in knots as you drive through the gates.
Before you go into the house, you say a silent prayer. As if you weren't saying one on your way to Graceland.
"Strength. God, grant me the strength," you whisper as you stand at the front door.
You walk in, not knowing what to expect. You hear Elvis' voice immediately, following his it beyond the kitchen into the Jungle Room. You see all the guys in there as Elvis sings Unchained Melody on the piano.
His voice has always lit a fire deep within your heart and soul. When he sings, Elvis builds a connecting bridge between himself and his fans, and you aren't an exception to that rule. It's part of the reason you love him so much. Your heart swells as Elvis unleashes this beautiful part of himself to everyone in the room. These private singing sessions always made you feel special because it almost seemed that it was all for you.
As Elvis ends the song, you exhale the breath you didn't realize you were holding in. Every eye turns to look at you, and Elvis looks up from his piano.
He loses his breath as he sees the image of you clear in his view. A sight for sore eyes. If you only knew how much he missed you. If you only realized how much he prayed for you in the last week. He wished on every star in the sky that his angel would return to him, and here you are.
Elvis slowly raises from the piano bench. His heart beats out of control, yet he remains composed. He wants to run to you and embrace you. He wants to place soft kisses all over your body, but he doesn't want to scare you away like a timid doe.
"Y/N," Elvis says, his voice as clear as a bell on Sunday morning.
"Hello, Elvis," you reply.
"Gentleman," Elvis announces, his eye never leaving you. "Please give us the room."
They all pile out the room as asked. A few of them pat your shoulders as they pass. It's just you and Elvis alone in the room.
"You're home, baby," he says.
"No, but we need to talk."
"Yes, we do. I... me first, please?" Elvis asks, extending his hand to you.
In good faith, you take his hand. Elvis smiles and walks you to the couch, sitting you both down. He notices a glow about you, and it makes him want to kiss you so badly. But he behaves himself. Good things come to those who wait. He holds your hands in his bigger hands, trembling.
"Baby, I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you. I...I got you something amazing. I hope you like it," he says, pulling a box out of his pocket.
You had a feeling Elvis would do this. Elvis never ever had a problem expressing himself verbally. If he was happy or angry or even hungry. He expressed it. If he was sad or depressed Elvis would tell you and the guys. But for some reason, Elvis could never verbally admit when he was wrong or apologize. He'd buy luxurious gifts to compensate for his wrongdoings. It made you mad.
"For fuck sake, you can't even apologize. Can you? Buying me gifts doesn't make up my what you've done."
"Y/N, I... I give you every fucking thing you could want and you..."
"Stop!" You shout, jumping off the couch. "Elvis, stop. I'm done arguing. I didn't come here to argue. I came here to tell you something and leave."
"I don't want you to leave, Y/N," Elvis says, standing before you. "I have more to say. I can't be without you. You are worth every fight. We need to work this out. Come back home, and things will be different. I promise..."
"Elvis, I'm pregnant," you blurt out.
The look on Elvis' face is unreadable, but you continue talking anyway.
"I can't stay here with you like this. I choose this baby. I don't want to lose him or her because you and I got into an argument about whatever."
Elvis falls to his knees, embracing you in a hug. He kisses your tummy, leaving you speechless. Tears pour from your eyes as you feel his soft lips kiss you. He grabs a fist full of the back of your dress.
"Baby, this is incredible," Elvis says, looking up at you. "I prayed to God that something would link us together. This is it, baby. Don't you see?!"
"Elvis, I... I can't."
Elvis stands up, looking you in your eyes. He touches your damp cheeks, wiping the tears away.
"You can't leave me, baby," Elvis says. "I just want to know one thing, Y/N. Then, if you really want to leave, I-I-I won't stop ya."
"What?" You ask. Caught in his grasp.
"Who's ever gonna love you like me? Huh? You once said that I was it for you. Who gonna kiss your lips like me?"
Elvis softly places a kiss on your lips, and you melt like butter in his arms.
"Y/N, who's gonna kiss your spots for you? Your cheeks? The soft spot on your neck that makes your knees quiver," Elvis whispers as he kisses your neck.
Your eyes roll back as his soft lips place kisses on your neck as his hands slowly travel down your back. Elvis was right. No one would love you like he does. No one will take the time to learn your body the way he has. Elvis has ruined sex for you. No one can touch you the way he can, but you're to obstinate to admit it. If Elvis wants you back, he has to work for you. Yet, he still hasn't said the words to open your heart to him again.
"Baby," Elvis says. "Who knows how to work your pussy like me? How to tune you up and lay you down?"
Elvis sits you down on the couch once more. Bowing in front of you, he tenderly spreads your legs away. He lifts your dress up to expose your panties to him. You try to control your breathing, but it's hitched. You know what's coming.
"Does he notice how wet my panties are?" You wonder to yourself.
You know you're in trouble once he rubs the pad of his thumb over your covered entrance. Your chest heaves as Elvis looks into your eyes. He laces both of his index fingers into your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry, baby," Elvis says. "I'm so damn sorry. I... never meant to hurt you. You are my everything."
And with that beautiful apology, you open your heart and accept all that he gives you. Elvis places his lips to your wet, throbbing clit. You sit back and enjoy the ride Elvis takes you on to erotic pleasure. You feel more sensitive than usual. He lathers his tongue all over your clitorus, making you moan out his name.
He then removes his mouth from you to gaze at your blized out face. You are so beautiful to him. He loves you so much. Without warning, Elvis inserts his middle and ring finger into your wet pussy. Causing you to cry out for him.
"Elvis! Ahh!"
"Baby, no one can ever do to you what I do," Elvis whispers. "You're mine. You'll always be mine, and I'm yours."
"Yes," you moan.
Elvis places his lips back to your clit as his fingers furiously work your sweet spot. It's as if he's singing to your clit as he strums your insides. Your chest heaves as you try to maintain your breathing. The heat at your core is like coals swelling to fire. You scratch his scalp as he brings you to the brink of pleasure.
You cum as you grind softly into his face. Elvis has taken all your strength from you. You couldn't leave even if you wanted to.
Elvis laps up some of your nectar before standing up to take his clothes off. His body's armed and ready for you. His cock is rock hard, aiming to plunge deep within you. He teases your entrance instead of immediately driving his cock into you. This teasing has you squirming with excitement.
"Is this okay?" Elvis asks.
You nod your head with enthusiasm as he lifts your leg and gently pushes into you. You both moan at the sensation of being connected together. Elvis steadies his pace as he pumps in and out of you. You grab onto he firmly. He feels better than the last time. You don't know how, but the passion is more powerful than any other time you've had sex. Maybe it's because you're pregnant, or maybe it's because Elvis means to prove to you that you're the one for him. Either way, you accept it.
You push yourself up into Elvis as he pushes into you, giving as much as you take. You look into each other's eyes, seeing into one another's souls.
"Forgive me, Y/N," Elvis pleads. "Forgive me for all I've done. I love you."
"Y-yes," you stutter out.
"Stay with me and be mine," he whispers, pounding harder into you.
"I will, daddy waddy!" You scream as you cum once more.
Elvis isn't far behind you cumming inside you once more. If you were pregnant before the makeup session, you are now. Elvis wraps you up in his arms, placing kisses on your neck up to your face. You missed this. This high school/honeymoon phase of your relationship. The moments when he was so gentle, kind, and extra loving. He rubs your tummy, causing you to remember that you two are alone.
"We're having a baby, Y/N, baby," Elvis whispers as he kisses your lips.
"We're having a baby, E," you say with a smile on your face.
This moment couldn't be more perfect. And just thinking in eight months, your baby would be in your arms. Life is splendid.
Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorwforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican
