don’t know how many words, but the first part did so well. rushed!!!! so sorry! but here you go ❤️
part one: click here loves <3
Being official together meant a lot of things to the both of you. First of all, you and Elvis had very busy schedules. Yours was tamer, getting to trade in late nights at the office for bringing your work home. Elvis couldn't really bring his work home.
You had moved into Graceland after realizing that the paps were unbearable. Graceland had grown to be your only safe haven. It was that for a lot of people.
You noticed that no matter how stressed Elvis was, the minute he walked through the door, a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It amazed you.
You were laid in the hotel bed, with a glass of wine. Papers were spread all over the place. You only really designed for Elvis, but of course you still had to approve of your employees work and make notes. This was your new normal. Vegas, work, Elvis. Repeat.
You had seen him play loads of time, and after feeling the pressure to go to every concert, you decided to call it quits. You went to see it when it was convenient for you. He understood completely. Respected it even. He liked that there was a bit of separation from you and "work".
The phone rang causing you to jump a little.
"Hello?" You answered.
"Y/N. We need you at the venue- Elvis needs you."
You immediately snapped up.
"Jerry what happened."
After the phone call ended, you were getting dressed as fast as you could, decided to wear one of his plain white shirts and some blue jeans. You were in a rush.
Your hair was a bit messy, just thrown up into a bun, and you still had your glasses on. Probably for the best because you would be taking one of his cars.
This made you nervous, but of course, you made it happen. You knew how to drive, maybe just not well.
It wasn't as busy as you had thought, mainly just parked cars. The lights were beautiful, but you had to focus.
Making your way to were Jerry said he was, you had no idea what to think. You didn't hear anything he said past. 'Elvis needs you.'
This wasn't like him. Not at all.
You finally found Jerry after getting a bit turned around.
"Jerry!" You ran up to him, feeling more and more panicked with each step.
"Y/N. Fuck I'm glad you're here. " Jerry cursed, pulling me in for a hug.
You could hear Elvis on stage. He was alive at least.
"Listen. All I know is he's not good. Found out tonight that Tom ain't who he says he is. Been lying the whole time. Don't even have citizenship."
Your eyes grew wide. You knew something was severely off about him.
"I tried to tell EP. The minute the words came out my mouth he passed out. Like on the floor,"
"Then Tom had Dr. Nick inject him with something, and now he's preformin'. He dont look right Y/N. Not at all."
You nodded, trying to take in the information. A lot of emotions were flooding through your body.
Anger. Hurt. Worry. Disbelief.
Jerry and You turned towards the stage at the mention of the Colonel's name.
Elvis was beyond angry.
"You are fired! Fired! Fired." He slurred out as Tom made his way on stage.
Luckily, the curtains had closed.
Before the man was able to reach EP, you bounded across stage.
"Don't you go near him."
You were furious, and before you knew it, you had slapped the old man. Clear across the face.
You were shoked at your own actions and apparently so was everyone else. You heard a couple of gasps coming from behind you.
"Now, Mr. Presley-"
"You're fired." Elvis cut Tom off, before he had even finished his sentence.
As Tom walked off, you turned to look at EP.
He was sitting on his knees, glaring at the gold curtain. It was like his brain had shut itself off.
"Jesus Christ what did they give him Jerry?" You exlaimed, running carefully towards the man.
It was like Elvis couldn't even tell you were there. You knelt in front of him, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead. He needed to get out of these clothes. They were tight, and hot. You would know, you designed them.
"Let's get him to the hotel, I have his car. I'll take it after we get there."
Jerry nodded at you as you slowly stood Elvis up.
He was barely lucid. You had no idea what to do for him.
"Come on baby, I got you."
The ride to the hotel was uneventful. You managed to get Elvis out, with Jerry's help of course, without many people seeing him. Being harassed was the last thing any of you needed or wanted tonight.
Getting Elvis in bed would be the biggest challenge.
You told Jerry he could go to his room after the two of you made it to the suite. He was hesitant , but he knew you could handle it.
Elvis was still staring off into the distance. This was the quietest he had ever been.
You sat him down on the couch before going to the room you shared to get him some clothes.
You made the bed messily, and put water on the nightstand, and the trashcan behind his side.
"Come on EP. We gotta get some rest okay?" You said gently, standing him up.
He was more unbalanced now, putting more and more weight on you. You didn't mind.
You helped him get undressed, realizing how uncomfortable he must've been.
He was in a more comfortable outfit when he finally spoke.
"Mama, I don't feel all that well."
His voice was hoarse, and he had bags under his eyes.
Your heart broke for him.
"Oh sweetheart,"
You kissed his forehead, before helping him to the bed.
You wiped his face gently with a cold washcloth, dragging it down to his neck as well. You were doing everything you could, just hoping he would be a bit more comfortable.
"The Colonel, he."
"Baby. Focus on you tonight, we'll talk about it tomorrow."
You hand was on his cheek, thumb lightly rubbing back and forth.
He nodded. Still not himself.
The night went pretty smoothly. You weren't able to sleep hardly at all.
You finally fell asleep around three in the morning, only to be woken an hour later.
Elvis was throwing up.
It was definitely a sight, he was crumpled beside the bed, hand gripping the beside table.
"Honey what can I do?" You questioned, standing up to cut the bathroom light on.
You knew how he was about lights when he didn't feel too hot. Just a little was okay, but it would be out of the question to turn the bedroom lights on.
You sat beside him, and held a wet rag to his neck. After he had wrapped up the heaving, you told him to sip the water while you took care of the mess.
Walking through the living room with the trash can you were muttering about all the ways you could brutally kill Tom Parker, perhaps not your finest moment.
Elvis was still on the floor when you returned.
You pulled him on the bed, choosing to sit behind him so he could lay.
His head found its way to your upper thigh, as you ran your fingers through his hair.
You decided then that as soon as he was better a shower would be in order.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do Y/N,"
You were at a loss, you didn't either. The Colonel had Elvis in a financial bind, nothing about the contract allowed any wiggle room.
"You are Elvis Aaron Presley. You will survive this."
You felt this was okay enough, hoping it would comfort him. Even just a little bit.
"I'm gonna take you home tomorrow, okay? To Graceland. You should see Lisa. Maybe go to your mama's grave and visit. I'll make you some dinner, and you can sleep in your own bed. Then if you're ready to come back, we will."
He nodded, eyes drooping as he began to doze off.
You were happy that he was letting go a bit. He needed rest. He needed his home. Real food. A real shower. The outdoors. His daughter.
He needed normal.
You couldn't help but notice that he was gripping your leg, like you would disappear any minute. This made you smile. It eased your worry knowing that you could be of comfort to him.
The next day was better. You woke up before him, deciding to make some breakfast for him.
While everything was cooking, you cleaned up a little bit. Doing his laundry, organizing his music papers, dusting, whatever you saw you cleaned. This was a nervous habit you had picked up from your mother. You figured it would be nice to leave the hotel in good shape.
After breakfast was made, you knew you could give him a bit of time to sleep before he woke up.
You made sure both of your bags were back, of course Elvis had a lot more stuff.
Like , way more.
“Darlin?”
Elvis was standing behind you , looking a little better than he did last night. A lot better.
“Hey EP, there’s breakfast.”
You couldn’t help but smile as he looked around the room.
He walked over to you as he envolped you in a hug.
“Thank you mama. You’ve done so much.”
He laughed a little, which confused you a bit.
What could be possibly be laughing at?
“You slapped the colonel. Very sexy.” He smiled, which caused your face to flush red .
Summary: You've been Elvis' designer for years, finally you got to do something useful
word count: 2k
theres a part two! click here loves <3
not that proud of this one, but eh. you can imagine austin!elvis or the real thing. whatever floats your boat.
enjoy, or dont its up to you my loves.
You were sat at your desk, going over some papers when you got the call. You had a meeting in ten minutes with Elvis, and his people. You had worked for Presley Enterprises for five years. You were Elvis' personal costume designer. Sometimes, at the beginning of your time working there, you found yourself doubling as his assistant.
Since he's been doing more movies than shows though, you were needed a lot less. It was sad, but of course you can always find plenty of ways to pay the bills. You owned the business, working this Elvis put a bit of fame behind your name, just enough to make it big.
You were successful.
You weren't sure why they wanted to meet with you, you didn't design his outfits for the movies he was in.
He was your friend though, so of course you would sit in on the meeting as long as he wanted you there.
Your feelings for Elvis had been placed on the back burner in your mind for years. You liked him.
A lot.
The two of you grew closer over the years. Designing costumes was sort of an intimate thing when you really thought about it. You're in the room alone with a person, hands on their body, just a measuring tape in hand, sometimes they had less than minimal clothes on.
You wrapped up a few more things realizing the meeting quite literally started in a minute.
You pulled EP's file, making your way to the meeting room feeling excited to see him.
Your heels clicked against the floor as you nodded to your employees.
They gave you warm smiles as you walked.
You opened the door, knowing that they would all be in there already. They were busy people, but so were you.
The table was full, leaving a spot for you, right next to Elvis of course.
"EP. Good to see you." You smiled, as you saw him.
He smiled back and stood giving you a quick hug.
"We called this meeting to discuss a design we need for EP. It's for the upcoming Christmas special." Jerry stated, throwing a file over to you.
Your eyebrow's furrowed. You didn't do Christmas specials.
Elvis knew that, they all knew that.
"Well, this looks big, so I believe a congratulations is in order,"
"I'm not sure why I'm needed though. This seems pretty, simple." You said politely.
You hated being so professional. These were your closest friends at one point.
"That's the thing Y/N. We need to make it bigger. We want to bring the real EP back, and we have to make a statement with it. He needs a costume. Something bold. He needs you."
Now this, was interesting.
"Hm, and whose idea was this?" You said looking at all the men that lined the table.
Elvis cleared his throat, leaning against the chair.
"Mine."
Pride swelled through you. You were beyond proud.
"Fucking finally. I'm in."
The men laughed as you stood to walk towards the door,
"Beth clear my schedule for the rest of the week. Give all the high-profile cases to Gemma, only contact me for emergencies."
Your assistant nodded, looking a bit confused.
You opened his file, memories flooding your mind as you did so. He always wore your best work. Nothing you ever designed for him was ever below par.
"Okay. EP and I will take it from here." The men smiled at your direction.
As a designer, you knew that managers had far too much impact on what thier clients wore.
As his friend you knew he was far too quick to give them all the power. This had to be between the two of you.
As the boys exited the room, you were pulling out sketch pads and pencils.
The room was clear, and you were left alone with Elvis.
"I don't know why you wear them old shoes darlin'. They look like the most uncomfortable thing.'
His voice was deep. Raspy. You loved it, then again so did the rest of America.
"Gotta be professional and lady like." You smiled, taking a seat next to him.
You took a look at the file again, if you were gonna bring the old EP back you had to go back to the origin.
"What're you thinking EP. I want this to be up to you. Your choice."
Pencil in hand, you wrote as he spoke passionately.
"I want it to be hard. Like intimidating, but I want it to be me. This is the biggest thing that happened to me in a long time, Y/N.
You smiled and the thought came to you immediately.
"Leather baby. You want leather."
------
It had been a couple of days since you've seen Elvis.
Today he was due for his fitting appointment, you took quick measurements the day that they all came in.
His measurements were still pretty much the same. He had filled out a bit over the years, but that was just him becoming a man.
You had the suit ready, you just prayed you got it right.
This thing was your pride and joy. You swore that part of your soul was literally stitched into this suit.
Damn.
You had just gotten everything together, when Elvis opened the door. This was your personal office, and everyone knew not to come in. You knew he would appreciate the privacy.
"Hey lil' mama. How're we doin' today?" He called out.
You spun on your heels, and you took in the sight of him. He looked gorgeous as always.
The both of you made small talk after you convinced him to not look too hard at the suit as you were helping him try it on.
"God damn this thing is hot."
"Baby it's leather, it's gonna be hot." You laughed.
You were focused on the pants, making sure they reached the proper point at the bottom of his leg, turning him around, you definitely approved of the way his ass looked in the pants.
As he turned back around you came face to face with his bare chest, feeling a blush creep onto your face.
You could practically feel his smirk. You knew him all too well.
Cocky bastard.
You continued to work, pinning a few things here and there, but you had to admit you did a wonderful job.
You were nervous now. It was time for him to look.
"Okay, you can look now." You voiced, sharply inhaling as he took a look in the mirror.
He was silent. Like, pen drop silence.
The silence was deafening.
He was just staring at himself.
"Its,"
"If you don't like it I'll redo it, or make you something else,"
He turned to you and took your face in his hands.
The metal of his rings were surprisingly cool.
"It's perfect. It's me." He had never been that sincere about the work you had done for him.
"It's so perfect mama, I could just,"
His eyes darted to your lips, and before you knew it his lips were on yours.
This was pure heaven.
The kiss was everything you've ever wanted, and more. He was everything you wanted.
You loved him.
You loved him.
"Kiss you." He said as he pulled away.
You were a mess, cheeks read as a cherry and at a loss for words.
He let out a light laugh at your state, turning to look in the mirror again.
----
You had seen Elvis more often during the time leading up to the Christmas special. He wanted you around, wherever he went you went.
The two of you spent every moment together.
The two of you were basically a couple, but of course not officially one.
After the recent tragedies, you and Elvis were sitting with some of his guys, and they were writing a song.
A very beautiful song, nothing like you had ever heard before.
He was laying on the floor, looking at the lyrics in front of him. You could tell he was sad. The excitement he had felt before, was gone.
Of course it was, something terrible happened.
The day of the shooting, you had made sure everyone at your company was safe, and you gave them the next day off with pay. No one should have to suffer more than they already have.
As they wrapped up, the boys left you and Elvis in the room alone. His eyes were still fixated on the paper.
"The Colonel ain't gonna be happy 'bout this one darlin." He said placing the paper on his stomach and turning to you.
You smiled at him.
Now obviously you had a lot of words for and about the Colonel. He was a slimy old man.
You knew he needed something from you, reassurance maybe?
"Baby I don't think it matters what the Colonel thinks this time. It's about you, and the message you want to send. Not just to your fans, but to everyone. Lisa. Your daddy. The world." You stated, looking him in the eye the entire time.
He nodded and moved his head to stare at the ceiling. He took hold of your hand.
"You're right darlin. Always are."
-----
Tonight was the night. Elvis had performed his songs beautifully, and it was time for the number.
You were sat, with the rest of the producers, as Tom Parker hobbled his way into the glass room
"Hey! It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!"
You rolled your eyes, heart still pounding in your chest.
The camera turned to the giant backdrop. It was simple, but it still made a statement.
There he was.
Dressed in white, a suit you of course picked and tailored for him, his song started.
It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.
You could practically feel the passion radiating off of him, everyone else could as well.
The men in the room were in awe. Even the Colonel had shut his fat mouth, for a change.
If I can Dream
By the time the song ended, you were standing. Your eyes bore into the man who was sweating and out of breath.
"He did it." You smiled, earning quite the nasty look from Tom.
You waited for a while in Elvis' dressing room, still feeling dazed from his performance. Soon the door opened, and you excitedly jumped into his arms.
He was sweaty and gross, but you didn't care.
"You did so amazin' honey"
He held your lower back and smiled at you.
"Couldn't have done it without you mama."
The little bit of praise received a blush from you. All you could is stare.
He was so powerful. Everything about him completely amazed you. His confidence, his voice, his passion.
"I love you."
There it was.
The words had come spilling out of you like a waterfall, there was no stopping it.
He pulled away slowly, causing dread to spread throughout your whole body.
"What'd you just say to me?" He questioned, an unidentifiable look in his eyes.
You couldn't help but look at the floor.
You felt nothing but shame.
"I'm sorry."
That was all you could muster up. It took everything in you to barely mutter those simple words
"Why would you love me?" He questioned, causing your head to shoot up.
What? Is he blind?
"Elvis Presley. You aren't too quick sometimes,"
"I've loved you forever. From the beginning."
He took a seat.
This was incredibly awkward, and not how you had wanted it to happen.
Christ, the two of you weren't even together.
You had never been officially together.
"You are the most incredible, talented, and caring man I have ever met."
You put it simply, because to be frank, you could go on for hours.
"Hm."
"I think it would be best if I left." You sighed, not wanting to get hurt.
His silence in the moment was enough for you to walk past, grabbing your bag on the way.
Just as you had taken a step past him, he grabbed your wrist.
"You know darlin' I've made a lot of mistakes."
You sighed, not really wanting to hear it, but you decided to stay anyway.
"Not askin' you to be my girl when we met was probably the biggest."
Now that was a bit of a stretch, you figured that the Colonel was his biggest mistake, but you chose to ignore that.
"Really EP?"
He nodded, pulling you to sit with him.
The two of you were sat incredibly close. Not leaving much space in between.
"I want you to be mine baby."
His words were deep, and husky.
"Then I'm yours."
That was all it took for him to grab your chin and pull you in for a kiss.
Nothing about this kiss was innocent. Unlike your first one, you could feel the tension between the two of you.
Summary: You decide it's time to let him go. Leave it behind. He begs you to stay.
warnings: adult language
word count: 1243
elvis x reader
you can imagine him as austin or as the real elvis, whatever floats your boat.
enjoy, or don't your choice.
theres a prompt that belongs to @hudsonvegasgirl ill put it in bold.
idk why the prompt looks like that wtf.
It took you three months to decide. Three long months of basic torture.
You had been doing nothing but taking care of your daughter and cleaning up after him. Trying to keep him at least alive.
You had nothing more to give anymore. It had all been drained from you.
He wasn't completely to blame; Elvis was just trying to be someone. Make everyone proud. You respected it.
You could no longer live with it.
Your daughter hadn't spent longer than fifteen minutes at a time with her father, in over two months. You haven't seen him for dinner. He hasn't been there. Except at night, to sleep.
Maybe some in the morning.
She hasn't had her father, and you haven't had your husband.
He was a ghost, a puppet.
He belonged to the Colonel, and to the show business. The only time he was happy as when he was on the stage, or out. Out, doing God knows what.
Three months.
You couldn't do it anymore.
That morning you woke up early, trying to be as quiet as possible. He was a hard sleeper from the beginning. With the pills, he was a bear. It was nearly impossible to wake him.
You were still quiet as a mouse, not to take any chances.
You weren't going to do wrong by him, though. Or your daughter.
The two of you would talk later that day, to avoid Lisa Marie hearing the two of you fight. The fighting had been endless.
You made your way through the house doing your best to get the things the two of you would need.
Mainly what Lisa needed, you would survive without your things. You just wanted your daughter to be in a healthy environment.
To be in a loving environment.
You had but most of the things you and Lisa would need in the car, that was outside and running, and you had woken her up gently, telling her that the two of you were going on a little vacation.
She would be back of course. He's her father and you would never take her from him. She needed him, and he needed her.
She was outside with Jerry, waiting on you to finish up.
You made your way quietly to the bedroom you shared with Elvis. Everything you needed had been removed. You moved quickly this time, becoming more nervous with each step. You turned to the dresser to check for any clothing you had left behind, when you heard him stir.
"Y/N? What're you doin" He grumbled sitting up to look at you.
You sighed, wishing the man would've just stayed asleep.
"Im leaving you Elvis, and I'm taking Lisa with me." You sighed, not wanting to fight while you daughter was nearby.
You moved towards the bedside table and grabbed one of the photos leaving the rest for him.
"Is this 'bout what happens on the road?" He asked, rubbing his temples.
You sighed and shook your head.
"The girls? No. You think I give a shit about the girls you sneak through the side door,"
You walked into the bathroom throwing open his drawer. He was following you still looking tired.
"I couldn't care less about the girls you sneak through the side door. It's about this,"
You through two bottles at him. Feeling tears prickle at your eyes
"And this!" You threw a couple more.
You loved him, but you were angry.
You wanted to be mature about this. You were parents, not children.
"It's about these. These goddamn pills those leeches and has-beens shove down your throat!"
You stormed out of the bathroom, him following you muttering a soft "God damn it."
You were making your way quickly through the upstairs while he was trying to keep up.
"Like your strung out."
"Strung out? Goddamn, I'm in the best shape of my life."
"Best shape of your life? The only time you are happy is when you are on that stage, and in between that you're a ghost."
The two of you were walking down the stairs, your arms full of sentimental items.
"Y/N I give you everything you could want!" He threw his arms up, starting to return the anger you were feeling.
"What I want is a husband! You've never known what I wanted, and you sure as hell don't give it to me." You spat, reciving a hurt look from him.
"I am your wife! I am your wife." You repeat, letting a tear slip down your cheek.
"And Lisa is your daughter, and she needs a father." You say, turning on your heels. You were finally headed for the door.
"I am her father."
You slowed at this and turned to face him.
Your voice was shaky and embarrassingly small.
"Do you remember the last time we laughed together? The last time the three of us had dinner together?"
You had started crying, placing the box you held on to the floor.
"You won't even touch me anymore."
He looked at you with sad eyes, and he was supporting his weight on the rail of the stairs.
"I've given you my life. I have nothing left in me to give you baby." You sobbed.
His eyes were the blueest you've ever seen them. You loved his eyes.
"Do you still love me?" He asked softly.
You wanted to scream yes and run back to him. Of course you did, he was your life. The father of your child.
He shook his head and slowly sat on the stairs.
He exhaled deeply
"When your forty and I'm fifty, we'll be back together. You'll see." He was looking at the ground.
Your heart broke for him. For you. Most of all for your daughter.
You gave in, just a little, and walked towards him slowly. He buried his head in your stomach and cried, like you've never heard him cry before.
He gripped forcefully to the back of your shirt; you knew you had to wrap it up.
"I have to go." You tried to take a step back, but he held you in place.
You got a little space between you, and you knelt to look at him. You took his face in your hands.
"Will you please stay?" He sobbed, looking at you with those sad eys.
"Baby you're sick. This isn't good for you. For me, for Lisa! I love you more than anything EP, but I have to protect her."
You weren't being stern; you were speaking to him with kindness.
You kissed all over his face. Wiping the tears away.
"Please stay mama, I'll get better, I'll quit with the pills. Anything you want. Don't leave, don't leave me. "
"I promise you. On my mother's grave I'll get better, I can't do it without you baby."
You held him closer, knowing that he truly meant what he said.
He would never put something like that on his mother's grave.
"No pills?"
He shook his head.
"You spend more time with Lisa?"
He nodded; face still covered in tears.
"You get healthy and start taking care of yourself?"
He nodded, staying silent.
You sighed, knowing the last part was the most personal for you.
You had tried to pretend like it didn't matter, but it does to you.
"No more, no more girls?" You let another tear slip.
"No more. I'll go to a real doctor. I'll get better, I swear it."
You nodded, looking around at your home and all the memories of your years there.
"Okay EP."
He looked up at you still clinging to your waist.
"You'll stay darlin?" He let out another sob.
"Lisa will go stay with my parents for a while. She'll think it's a vacation. This is it Elvis, the last chance."
imagine austin elvis or the man himself whatever floats your boat.
part two to the bathroom:) I'll link it down below. enjoy , or not. completely up to you
word count: 1438
Part One :)
I took Elvis' hand and walked as quickly as I could over to my desk. I collected a few things, eyeing over my shoulder every few moments.
People were staring obviously, because I got fired, and because I was literally holding Elvis Presley's hand. I would stare too.
I would definitely stare too.
I threw what I could in my purse, and I decided the rest could go to hell.
You didn't let go of the man's hand until the both of you stepped outside of the building.
Your nerves were worse than you though, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins.
"Holy shit how am I gonna pay the bills!" You cursed, turning to him as if he would have the magic answer.
His face was blank, but he only held eye contact for a moment before he was looking around.
"Darlin' let's talk about this somewhere private. I can already smell the reporters."
You nodded and followed him to his car. His gorgeous car.
The windows were dark, so the setting was a bit more private, and personal.
"What just happened." You said, not really knowing if you were looking for the answer.
He laughed and turned to you.
You realized that it's probably been a very long time since he's had to worry about this kind of thing.
"Sorry Mr. Presley, this probably wasn't your plan for the day,"
You were feeling a bit humbled. The reality of your situation had set in.
This man made what you made hourly every five minutes. He has been beyond famous since you could remember.
He was bigger than you, and better.
"Don't call me Mr. Presley, makes me feel old. An' don't worry bout it mama. I ain't got nothin but time." He offered.
You shook your head, feeling guilty for consuming his time. Guilty for taking up space in his car. For breathing the same air as him even.
He saw how hard you were thinking, and that you were getting more and more uncomfortable.
He sighed, starting the car.
"You got two options now, either I can drive you on home, or we can get somethin' to eat."
You smiled at his kindness. You felt a bit more comfortable in his presence, and you were trying to remind yourself that he was very much still just a man.
"Food, would be nice. Yeah."
----
He took you to a diner, that was much farther away from home than you were used to.
The nicest part was that it was completely empty.
I mean, at least he would be able to eat in peace for a while.
The two of you walked inside and were sat immediately. You could tell by the looks of the three workers that they could've passed out on the spot. You chuckled lightly.
This is his life. Everyday.
The thought of that was unimaginable.
The food had been ordered, and you were left at the table with Elvis by yourself.
"So why journalism." He spoke, eyes fixated on his glass.
I smiled at his quickness.
You understood that your career choice wasn't interesting to some, even most. It was yours though, your passion.
"I used to interview mama when I was a girl. Notepad and everything. I don't know just something about it,"
You looked up at him and smiled.
"So why music." You copied earning yet another laugh.
You decided that would be the end goal. If neither of you took anything from this situation, at least you got to hear his laugh.
"Instinct. Always loved it. Been told I'm pretty good at it,"
The conversation continued throughout the meal. You learned a lot. Everything from his favorite color to his favorite room at Graceland.
"My favorite song?" You suddenly felt pressured.
He had asked what your favorite song was. Not just in general but of his.
You pretended to think for a moment, but you knew the answer the second he asked.
"If I Can Dream." You smiled.
You remember the performance like it was yesterday, it was the most memorable song you've heard. The emotion he had put into the lyrics, the performance, and the message behind it meant everything to you, and to what you believed in.
"Always wanted that one to be the favorite. Not too many people worried 'bout music havin' a message though." He took a sip from his drink
"I think it's important that all art has a message." You stated earning a smile.
He was a bit more in his element now, he wasn't sweaty and nervous, and he was obviously passionate about what the two of you were talking about.
The two of you talked a bit more about his music, you notice his meek attempt to be humble. It kinda worked.
Kind of.
He stared at you for a moment. Observing your beautiful features.
You somehow looked kind. He hadn't met a person that was that kind to him in a long time.
"Come work for me-with me darlin'. "
He offered quickly before he could think much about it. Did he know what you could be doing for work with him? No. Did he want you with him? Yes.
"Excuse me?" You questioned the kind offer, not that you weren't grateful.
You looked him, his face was sincere.
"They did you wrong by lettin' you go baby,"
You felt your cheeks grow hot at the name.
"I'm sure they'd all love to have you over there at Graceland."
He was serious. Like dead serious.
"Oh, I don't know Mr. Presley,"
He coughed.
"Elvis. What would I even do?"
He shrugged and took a look outside at the cars beginning to pile in.
"Darlin, I bet you all the money I got I could do great with having a personal assistant. Now let's go out the back alrigh? Not feelin' up to sign anything at the current moment." He threw a couple of large bills on the table, making you eye him closely.
Money was really nothing special to him huh.
The two of you made it to the car and were on the road before you knew it. He said he wanted you to at least see Graceland. You were honored, I mean despite it being famous it was indeed this man's home.
He designed it. Bought it when he was just getting big. It had to be important to him
The house was gorgeous from the outside. The yard was kept in perfect condition and the house itself was beyond the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
He brought you inside.
You were to amazed to even speak. Somehow you were more starstruck by the house than you were him.
Funny.
"This is. This is-"
You were dumbfounded, and you had no idea what to say. This world was beyond crazy to you.
Sure, you worked around celebrities every day, and you did nothing but write and think about their lives.
Living that life directly though? Never something you thought you would be doing.
Even though you were full of doubt and your brain was telling you no.
Something out it, him, made you want to say yes. You wanted to know him.
"Here darlin calm it down a little, let me show you around."
He began to walk, expecting you to follow. Your house could fit in this one five times over, maybe even six.
The living room was gorgeous, and the kitchen was something to behold.
The upstairs was just amazing as the downstairs, and it was even more him. The hallway was lightly decorated, and it smelled wonderful. Like cologne and fresh laundry.
He shows you every room, some of them belonging to someone.
Then you stopped at a door, the only one that was closed.
He opened it and it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Not your taste kind of beautiful, but beautifully his.
The room was covered in red. Black, and there was a huge tv sat right in front of the bed.
"Your room?" You questioned, as he took a step inside.
"That obvious mama?" He smiled.
You didn't realize how close you were until now.
Every part of you wanted to kiss him, but you know how inappropriate it would be.
"It smells good in here," You said before you could truly think.
Your voice was soft, and shaky even.
"Hm?"
He took a step in your direction, and you copied the action.
"You are just about the prettiest damn girl I've ever-"
You cut him off, placing your lips against his.
His ring clad hand found its way to your waist, and the kiss was growing deeper by the second.
This kiss was unlike any you've ever experienced. It was truly intimate, but not in a hungry way.
It was like he cared about your comfort, just like you cared about his. He was already so important to you.
Much to your dismay he was in need of air, and he pulled away.
i don't like this one as much as the first, but the first one did surprisingly well. enjoy, or don't either is fine.
you can imagine the real elvis or austin. whatever floats your boat.
summary: part two pls read pt. 1 first <3
word count: 1621
"I've missed you darlin'" Elvis spoke as the both of you pulled away.
Reality was finally setting in. He was here, and he certainly wasn't okay like you hoped.
You wanted him to be okay more than anything in the world. Looking at him now you could see a glimpse of him, and who he was. It was heartbreaking for to see, but you had hope.
You still couldn't get past what he did. He left you, for fame. It worked out for him for the most part, but what about you?
He left you. Never called. Never wrote.
He wasn't there when your mama died, or when daddy's drinking got worse. He left.
"EP, you left." You said sadly, trying to remind yourself of how angry and resentful you've been for years.
It was pathetic really, you were never able to fully forgive.
He was the love of your life. You would've done everything for him. You did, do everything or him.
"Mama I-"
You shook your head as you stood up.
"Elvis you left. Simply because a man you met less than a month prior told you it was what was right,"
"And now you're here saying things. Things that I've wanted you to say for years. It's not fair."
A tear finally fell, much to your dismay. The last thing you had ever wanted to do was show him weakness.
"I woulda' never made it anywhere. I had to show the Colonel that I knew how to listen to him. " He replied, sparking up anger inside you.
Really. That's all he had to say.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, still sweating from the show. You walked over to the towels, and threw him one, not quite feeling ready to walk out yet.
He nodded sensing, that you quite weren't ready for him to talk.
"I loved you through everything. You- You threw me away like I was nothin'! Didn't even have the decency to drive me home."
At this point you were pacing through the room. Thinking of what else to say. This was probably the most oddly relived you've felt in a long time.
You finally can let go.
"I coulda helped you damn it! I coulda been there when Mrs. Gladys died. Or when you decided to start abusin' pills. I coulda been there, Elvis, and you shoulda been there for me."
At this point you were crying, and you couldn't tell if it was out of anger, or sadness.
tw: mentions of abuse.
"You shoulda been there when MY mama died. Or when daddy decided he wanted to start beatin me black and blue because he blamed me for her death. You shoulda been there."
You wanted to be his person. From day one when you met the young boy with the gorgeous eyes and the dreamy hair, you wanted to be his person.
"Sweetheart I had no idea," He spoke, looking at me with sad eyes.
You threw your hands up.
"How would you! You weren't there! You made your choice, fame over everything, family, love, your health."
He stood, obviously something you said upset him.
"Now honey, you ain't got no right to stand here and question how I care about my family." He pointed a ring clad finger at you, staying in place.
The anger you felt was quickly getting more intense. What are you even doing here?
"You threw me away like a piece of trash and now I'm back here tryin' to take care of you!"
He threw the towel he had on the floor, taking a step towards you.
"If you hate me so God damn much then why are you here, hm? Just go!"
"I can't go because I don't hate you EP! I love you. I never stopped."
You let out a sob.
You finally broke. You had been holding it together for years. You grew numb after your mama died, and right now it was like the flood gates had opened.
He wrapped you in a tight hug, and you struggled to get away.
No, you're mad at him. Furious even.
"Darlin quit bein' so damn stubborn and let me hold you."
You gave in, grasping at his shirt, knuckles turing white.
"I shoulda been there. I'm sorry baby." He said quietly, voice low and raspy.
This is what you've truly always wanted. To be with him. To love him. To help him. He deserves a good person.
"I forgive you."
----
The two of you sat in the dressing room for a while. Talking about his career, and yours. Admittedly, his was much more interesting to listen to.
You've both calmed down. He wasn't angry, and you weren't-
well, you weren't pacing back and forth with all those thoughts running through your head anymore.
"You really ain't watched any of my movies, tv, shows, nothin?" He frowned.
Your face heated up in embarrassment. You were trying to decide what to say. Should you give him the satisfaction of saying yes? Or should you try to tease him a bit.
Teasing. Teasing works.
"Well. I did see the one with the butler outfit and the dog in a wagon." You grinned taking a sip of your drink.
"Have mercy." He put a hand on his head.
You let out a laugh placing the drink on the table.
"Elvis Presley. You are the most famous man in America. Of course, I watched it all. Some of it was quite low brow, but still. I was proud." You smiled.
He laughed.
You had missed this. Talking. Just talking. About anything and everything. In the peace and quiet, just the two of you. No one harassing you. Or him. Just the two of you.
After just a moment of silence, you eyed a clear bag. That had a ton of little orange bottles in it.
No. Please tell me this is not.
No.
"EP what's that?" You pointed at the bag standing up, moving quickly towards it.
He grunted, looking down at his lap.
You picked up the bag, taking hold of the various bottles.
"Why are you 'prescribed' four different anxiety medications. Insomnia, Morphine? Elvis why,"
"Morphine and Ethinamate are highly addictive. We have drug addicts come in the hospital all the time looking for these. Beggin' for them."
He looked at the bag, seemingly in a trace.
"Dr. Nick says I need em'" He simply stated.
You threw the medicine in the bag, walking over to him.
You place your hands on either side of his head.
"Please tell me you don't have all this in your system right now. Please honey."
He said nothing.
"Where is he. Where's that crooked Colonel."
He stood, following you as you walked out of the dressing room
You were on a mission.
As a nurse, this was wrong. Medical malpractice.
This so-called doctor had no right to have a license. To practice medicine. Was he even a doctor? Those medications didn't even have anything on the label but the name and dosage.
He needed to be in jail.
Speaking as a nurse, you were angry. This wasn't right.
Speaking as someone who loved the man who was being poisoned with these medications, you were seething.
Elvis had a lot of time to make up for.
You haven't fully forgiven him.
That doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to be protected.
You stormed through the hallway, looking for the Colonel, or the doctor. Not caring much who you found first.
Elvis was walking as quickly as he could after you, but of course you were faster.
He did need to exercise a bit.
You heard voices coming from a studio, and you walked through the door.
Dr. Nick, Vernon, and the Colonel were sat, drinks and cigars in hand.
"There you are you no good dirty, rotten-" You began, but you were quickly cut off
"Y/N" Elvis boomed behind you, causing you to turn to him.
You don't know what kind of emotions were controlling you right now but, the confidence you had was radiating.
"Shut up."
You walked over and stood dangerously close to the doctor, which meant you were equally as close to Tom Parker.
"You will never, prescribe another medication to that man do you understand? I will personally make sure you never have access to anything a doctor would. I will destroy you. You will have nothing." You said to the doctor and turned to Tom.
"You made him feel like he could depend on you. He believed in you, that you would take care of him and his family," You broke looking at Vernon and Elvis.
"I saw through it from the beginning you fat bastard. You're killing him."
You stood up straight, realizing suddenly Elvis had stopped his protests, instead he stood, staring. With an unrecognizable look on his face.
"Mr. Presley, I am a real nurse. I am telling you that this doctor is not the man to help your son. If he continues, he will die. Those medications are highly addictive, and not to mention dangerous. Please. Stand up. Do what's right."
Vernon nodded, standing with me. I turned to Elvis, and walked towards the doorway.
"Come on honey, I'll help you."
You hoped he would take up on the offer. You begged the Lord even.
He took a hard look at the Colonel, and the Doctor, then slowly took hold of your hand.
---
Elvis invited you to stay with him for a while. He knew that he needed you.
Part of the need was because you were a nurse, and he knew you would be able to help with his health, and with getting him off the medications.
The other was because he missed you. He had tried to find love after you, and truly he believed what he had with Pricsilla was great. It was really, he truly loved her.
You were something else though.
Of course, things had changed, you have, he has. He loved you though, and you him.
summary: elvis passes out before his preformance , reader saves the day i guess? just read. slightly better than the other one. im gonna do younger elvis next. enjoy. if not thats also cool.
word count: 1842
Work had never been your favorite thing. It was something you needed to do to survive yes, to keep you happy? No.
When you started out nursing was your passion. You've loved taking care of people. Even at a young age. Over the years though, the work grew tireless, and you enjoyed it less and less.
The day had gone by slow, just patient rounds and the occasional drug addict coming in trying to pawn drugs out of hospital.
You were finally given a moment to sit and relax while catching up on some charts that were busy piling themselves up throughout the day.
"Y/N! You'll never guess what I done got!" Evelyn screamed, disrupting the silence in the room.
You loved that girl; you've known her your entire life. Somehow, she also made it into nursing.
She's a sweetheart, but she's certainly not the brightest.
"Well, what'd you get Eve." You smiled softly at her over heightened enthusiasm.
"Father got me tickets to international hotel! To see the one and only Elvis! Gosh darn it you have to go with me!"
Your head snapped towards the girl, dread instantly filling your entire body.
No.
No absolutely not.
----------
"Darlin' you gotta understand I have to do this. Colonel says it's the best for publicity." Elvis spoke as you wiped a tear away.
He gave him a look.
You had supported him through everything, defended him, helped him when his mama was completely against what he was doing.
"You're breakin' up with me for publicity? I love you. I've loved you through all of this mess. After all that you're leavin'" You paused when you noticed the empty look on his face.
"You know what EP. The colonel can have you. I hope this gets you what you truly want." You cried, stepping out of the vehicle.
---
"I uh- that's awesome! What about work Evelyn, I can't just leave anytime I want."
She shook her head, smiling.
"Pop's is gonna take care of it all for us. Don't worry 'bout a thing unless it's getting pretty. Come on, it's Elvis Presley."
You sighed, knowing you had no choice. Avoiding the topic of Elvis Presley was easy for you until now. There wasn't a good enough excuse.
"Fine, I need to borrow some shoes though, I ain't got any good ones." You gave her a fake smile.
---
After you were finally dressed your nervousness was becoming more apparent.
It was simple. You would go, offer up some fake excitement, maybe yell a little, then it would be over and done with.
Dressed in a black dress, showing far too much cleavage for your liking, and some sky high black heels you were finally ready to go.
"Now you clean up nicely. Lets go, I wanna find our seats. We've got the VIP section." She grinned obviously jumping with joy.
This is literally your worst nightmare. After supporting that man for years he just left, and you haven't heard from him or seen him since.
Arriving at the hotel, you finally let the curiosity get the best of you. You began to wonder if he had changed any. He was always a fan of flashy suits and shoes. You smiled at the thought.
"Help! We need some help over here!" You and Evelyn heard the shouts from down the hallway.
You looked at each other making a dash towards the commotion.
"I'll be dammed." You sighed at the sight.
Vernon Presley was stood over his son, who had obviously collapsed.
"Holy cow! I'm gonna throw up!" Evelyn exclaimed as she ran quite literally the opposite direction.
Now you have no idea what kind of bad karma you were experiencing right now, but you were starting to regret every bad thing you've ever done.
"I- I'm a nurse." You said as loudly as your voice would allow.
Vernon turned to you, finally realizing who you are.
He nodded over at his son who was still very much compromised.
You knelt down to him getting a whiff of his cologne, as you took of your jacket.
His pulse was high, and as you were examining him who you assumed to be the colonel and some sort of doctor approached the group.
"He needs to go to the hospital. Don't know much about him but I assume the collapse was from exhaustion." You spoke, lifting his head gently to check for any sign of injury.
Nope, and sure enough as you were holding him, his eyes fluttered open, clearly the man was disoriented.
"All that matters is that this man preforms on that stage tonight."
You tried to protest but before you knew it, that "doctor" had injected the singer with some sort of fluid, causing him to shoot up with a cough.
"Y/N?"
Before you had time to even register what was happening, he was ushered off to get ready for the performance. You stood and brushed your dress off and fixed you hair a bit before you leaned against the wall.
"Y/N, it's been a long time." Vernon offered a smile.
You gave him a polite one back, you and he never had much of a relationship, it was always his mama.
"Yes. Mr. Presley, quite a reunion. How's Mrs. Gladys?" You turned to him as you watched his face fall.
No.
"She passed a few years ago. Elvis ain't been the same since. He needs rest. Won't listen to nothin' I got to say though."
He looked at you while you thought for a moment. You had adored that family for years, spending quality time with Elvis' mother.
You sighed, tonight definitely went way worse than you thought.
"I'm sorry for your loss." You simply said.
He offered you another smile.
"Y/N, I don't know what happened between you and my son, but could you talk to him? Maybe ask him to get some rest."
You sighed. You didn't quite understand why the man was asking you to do this, the two of you haven't spoken in years. You wouldn't even know what to say.
You saw him though. How tired he looked. You never could've imagined that the light in his eyes could die, but it did. It was missing.
"I'll try. Only doing this cause I know this is what his mama would want." You smiled rubbing Vernon's shoulder.
Vernon led you to the side stage so you could at least see him preform.
He was certainly a star. The light returned just a moment as he looked out to the crowd. He was obviously exhausted, but the movements where there.
He wasn't.
He looked like a shell of himself. Like someone else was in control of his body.
He looked like a puppet.
The sight was unnerving.
You actually had to turn away and choose to just listen.
It comforted you to just imagine him as was.
"The show's almost over, I'll show you to his dressing room. No one ever goes in there." Vernon said as he pulled me from the side stage.
The two of you walked through the venue, allowing you to realize how big this was. You were about to talk to the biggest celebrity in the world, and the love of your life, and you were meant to convince him to take a break from the show business.
Way to go Y/N.
Mama would be real proud, you thought. Shaking your head in resentment towards the situation.
The dressing room was filled with his clothes, and some other things that obviously belonged to him.
Not to mention an unnecessary number of huge mirrors. You would go crazy if you had to be in here as often as he, though you supposed if you had his looks you wouldn't mind.
Vernon left, and you took a seat in front of his dressing mirror. There were a few rings stacked on the table and a comb. Some women's eyeliner that made you let out a chuckle.
Then you noticed a particular ring. The exact one you gave him many years ago. You picked it up and smiled.
He loved this ring. It was his first one.
You stared at it for a moment before you heard the door open behind you.
"Have mercy- Y/N? What the hell are you doin' back here."
You quickly placed the ring down on the table. Feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Vernon wants us to talk." You said, voice slowly shaking.
The man before you held you stare, seemingly taking in every inch of your beautiful body. Which had become far more womanly since last he saw you.
"Then talk darlin. Ain't like I got nothing better to do."
You stood walking slowly towards him. It's not that he intimidated you, he was just so different. Colder.
"You're tired Elvis." You stated, earning an eyeroll in response.
He shook his head and sat slowly on the couch.
"Don't start that shit. You all don't know what you're talking 'bout." He griped.
You shook your head. This was not him. The passion had been drained out.
"I don't know you anymore, and from the looks of it, I don't want to,"
This earned a sad look from the man.
"But you used to love this. Was all you could ever talk about. It was your passion. Now I got a question for you? When did the passion for music die? When did music simply just become your job."
At this point you had to force yourself for going on a rant. You were a nurse, and you were going to treat him as one of your patients. Nothing more.
"I-"
You held your finger up to the man.
You looked around the room for a moment trying to spark up some confidence.
"I'm a nurse Elvis. Let me be frank. If you don't slow down, at least for a while, you will die. The pills that doctor is feeding you, and the tireless hours slaving for the no-good Colonel are gonna kill you. Your mama would've wanted better for ya baby,"
You inhaled sharply as you watched his head shoot up. Maybe at the mention of his mother, maybe because you called him baby.
Fuck
"Nurse huh. You were always so good at takin' care of me," He started.
"No one's spoken to me lke that in years. It's always so, anyway"
His thoughts must've been all over the place. His eyes darted all over the room, and his hands and legs were steady shakin.
"Come sit darlin'"
You hesitated. Not good no. Stay far away. Nurse. Patient.
"Okay." You smiled sitting next to him.
He leaned against the couch, still staring at me as I sat, this was the closest I've been to him in a long long time.
You looked him in the eyes, and you said something you'll probably regret.
"Don't die on me, okay?"
He pulled you by the arm and wrapped you in a warming hug. The sweat was something you just kind of had to overlook, God you had missed this man.
Somehow this simple gesture made you forget what happened all those years ago.
"I'll take a break. Just for a while, get back on my feet I suppose," He slurred into your shoulder.
You rubbed circles into his back, waiting for him to finish.
"On one condition. You let me kiss you darlin'" He said as he gently pull away.
Your face heated up immediately, like clockwork.
Before you could even think you nodded, and he took hold of your jaw.
His lips were chapped, but full. Just like you remembered.
This is absolute shit. It’s been a minute. Part two maybe? My condolences.
word count: 965
cant believe i was convinced to do this but, theres a part two .
part two
“What do you mean he’s still in the bathroom.” I spoke, throwing down the note cards I had been practicing.
Roger threw his hands up and walked away into the next room.
Great, this is just what I needed. First interview with a famous person, Elvis Presley at that, and it’s already going downhill.
“EP interview has to happen in 15, Y/N, or we’re cutting you from the magazine.” He said, as he stormed back into the room with a stack of papers.
I sighed, standing up and making my way towards the bathroom.
The mens restroom.
Disgusting.
“Mr. Presley, We really need to get to the interview room.” I spoke, slightly embarrassed at the fact that I was indeed, talking to a door.
I heard nothing in response, I quickly checked my watch seeing that I just about had 12 minutes before I lost everything.
“Lord have mercy, Mama forgive me.” I muttered, deciding to just open the door.
He was certainly in there, sitting on the floor with his back leaned up against the wall.
“Now, what in the hell,” Elvis spoke, looking towards me.
I mean obviously I was out of place. Men’s bathroom and all.
“Please, I’m not sure what happening with you right now, but I absolutely will get fired if you and I don’t walk into that room in the next ten minutes.” I sighed, taking one careful step towards the man.
I took this time to finally observe him. Working in this industry has been quite an experience. I’ve met plenty of famous people, been harassed by my male coworkers, and done not one interview. It was a long three years of fetching coffee and editing papers.
I’ve never met anyone quite as famous as him.
Or as sad, apparently.
His face was glazed with a thin, but noticeable line of sweat. He had obviously gained a bit of weight since his “prime”, but most likely not as much as the taboids had mentioned. Mr. Presley seemed to be figiting with a loose thread on his shirt. An act that you caught yourself doing often.
When you were nervous.
Elvis Presley was nervous.
“Sorry for holdin’ you up darlin, I need just a minute. It’s been a while since I’ve been in front of a camera.” He said, voice just about a whisper.
You sighed, trying your best to avoid looking at your watch again.
“Damn it.” You sighed, taking a seat next to the man, earning a puzzled luck from him.
“I don’t like camera’s either. That’s why I got into journalism in the first place, Mama said I had a knack for it anyhow.” I smiled, handing him the folded tissues I had stored in my pocket.
He wiped his face, offering a light smile.
“Now, I’m only 27 but and I’m sure I don’t know much in comparison to the king-”
I paused for a moment, noticing his laugh.
“But I think you are gonna do just fine. Just answer a few questions, and it’ll be done. Go home to your mansions and cars and relax.”
He smiled and wiped his face.
“Well ain’t you a sweetheart,”
I rolled my eyes and looked at him as he shifted, I mean I’m not sure how long he’s been sitting there. These floors are definetly not the most comfortable.
“It ain’t about getting to go home honey, them tabloids have had a lot of interesting things to say about me lately, and I don’ think they’re gonna care much about what all I got to say,”
He paused for a moment, before letting out a sigh.
“All they gonna care about it what I’m wearin’ and how I look. Maybe just a little bout’ the music.”
He wadded up the tissue and threw it on the floor next to him.
“Well Mr. Presley, I’ll have you know get it. I’m workin’ with a bunch of men that think that because I got a thick accent, and that I’m a woman that I’m not capable of doing what the rest of them do. Wish I could put a mask on half the time so they would maybe show me some damn respect.”
Elvis was holding eye contact at this point, for the first time in the conversation.
“I for one don’t know a lick about you. Strict mama and daddy an all. I do know that you’re a hell of a musician, a hell of a singer, and you got plenty of important things to say, and guess what,”
He hummed in response giving me room to talk
“There ain’t no camera Mr. Presley. We gonna get the release on a photo of you and print it in the magazine. Jus’ me and you in a room with you answering questions about your career.”
He let out another laugh. You could admit that a smile looked good on him. You had no idea why the taboids were so cruel. Sure he looked quite different, and you could tell his form had changed quite a bit since his younger days.
“Why are you bein’ so nice hon, pretty sure I just cost you your career.” He said, nodding at my watch.
Sure enough it was well past the cut of mark.
4:34 PM
“Well. I suppose I’ll be finding another job Mr. Presley. Been thinking about it for two years now anyway. Like I said, I ain’t been around long but I know everyone deserves kindness.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before Roger came in.
“What in the hell, Y/N. I’m sorry if she’s bothering you sir, she’s actually not even an employee here anymore.” He sneered looking down on me.
I looked down at my lap, feeling ashamed. Damn that man, I was doing so well.
“Well that a shame, without her I’m guessin y’alls little magazine’s gonna go to hell,” Elvis smiled before getting up slowly.
fake relationship is such a good trope. they have to act in love and they are in love but they think the other isn't in love. oscar. pulitzer. nobel prize
a/n: this is kind of trash but i thought it was kinda cute.
warnings: adult language, mentions of death.
Y/N has been attending Robichaux's Academy for a while now, and after years of being here she’s seen a lot. Death, mysterious accidents, and lots and lots of stupid witches doing stupid stuff.
When Zoe and and Madison decided to come running to her, asking for help putting a boy back together, she was sure she was high.
“Okay what the fu- what did you guys do?” She asked frantically getting her stuff together.
Y/N was a pretty sophisticated person. She did her best to not get caught up in the drama, but she knew she had to help. They wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.
“There’s no time Y/N. Please just help. He doesn’t deserve what happened to him.” Zoe yelled.
Zoe didn’t exactly look guilty. Y/N felt that Zoe really wanted to help this man due to her own self preservation.
“Fine. Just get me coffee or something after we are done.” Y/N sighed, not really knowing what kind of mess she had gotten herself into.
—
Out of all places to preform a spell, the morgue is not ideal. First of all, it’s stinks. Death and bleach pretty much covers it.
She looked around at the discarded limbs and bodies, it was quite sad actually. They were real people, and whatever Madison did killed them all. Pretty painfully she could assume.
“Oh Christ almighty you guys,” She paused looking around the small room once more.
“Which one is it.” She rolled her eyes, taking out the supplies needed for the spell.
Madison pointed, and to be honest Y/N had already decided she was going to make the other girls do the dirty work. She might be okay with doing the spell, but she sure isn’t going to touch all over these five day old corpses.
“Get what you need and put him on the table.”
—
Y/N finally was ready. The other two witches had grown impatient, and they were ready to leave. At this point Madison had already mentioned ditching Y/N and just leaving to get lunch.
Thankfully, Zoe said no.
Y/N walked over to the body, already noticing a heap of blond hair.
“Oh my God-” Y/N gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.
She had no problem with death usually. To her it’s a part of life. This tough, shook her to her very core.
Kyle Spencer’s lifeless form stared up at her. Her best friend from back at home. She felt sick to her stomach all of a sudden.
“Oh just fix him already bitch. I have places to be.” Madison huffed, looking over her nails.
Y/N resisted the urge to kill her on the spot. That would certainly make waves back at the academy.
“I know him. Knew him. Whatever let’s just get this over with.” Y/N spoke sadly, before her eyes roamed over him once more.
——
After a long an exhausting process, she had done it. The spell was done, and all she had to do was wait for the boy to wake up. Unlike her fellow witches, Y/N was actually quite educated on the spell she had just done.
She knew quite well what was going to become of poor Kyle, and she hoped that she would be able to fix it. She didn’t want him to be cursed to a life like that.
Zoe and Y/N sat side by side. Madison had long since ditched the two of them.
“You can go. I’ll take care of him. I’m sorry, I mean it must suck to see someone you were close to like that.” She stuttered.
Zoe was always a bit intimidated by the other witches, except for Nan of course. Nan was such a sweet person, everyone loves her.
“I’m fine. I’m going to probably go. Good luck with him.” She smiled, standing up.
—-
It had been about a week, and Y/N had done everything she could to learn how to fix Kyles mind.
She was sure by now that she could do it, but she was surprisingly nervous that she would mess him up even more.
Y/N was sitting on her bed when the door opened up harshly, startling her a bit.
Zoe pushed a very much so zombied Kyle into the room, and locked the door behind her.
He was being surprisingly calm toward Zoe, as long as she wasn’t touching him, he wouldn’t get all freaky and try to murder her.
“He just- Just killed his mom. Y/N please I cant do this anymore.”
Y/N’s eyes widened.
She didn’t know very much about his mom, but she knew enough. She wasn’t a very good woman, and although Y/N hated to say this, his mom
deserves what she got.
It was now though, that she locked eyes with Kyle. She could’ve sworn she saw his body relax almost immediately.
“Y/N-” He muttered out before rushing to her feet.
He clung desperately to her jean clad legs, and Y/N dared her hand to move to the top of his head, gently massaging his scalp.
Then she saw the blood. He was covered nearly head to toe in his disgusting mother’s blood. This caused a bit of anger to well up inside her.
“First you kill him. Then you make me bring him back to life. Then you don’t even have the fucking decency to clean the blood off him. Get out please, I’ll take it from here.” Y/N stated sharply.
The mere sight of Zoey was beginning to annoy her deeply, and she knew that if the girl stayed much longer, it wouldn’t end well.
Zoe sighed and stepped slowly out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with Kyle.
He was still a mess. Latched on to her legs and whimpering, the man was completely broken.
Kyle must remember her from their childhood. They had quite a defining friendship, and she understood why he remembered her. She was glad that he could feel safe with someone.
He was probably scared to death. Well he’s already dead, but still.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She said softly to the boy in front of her.
She carefully took his arm, and led him to the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to scare him more than he already was.
—-
She had been successful in cleaning him up, the blood was no longer under his nails and matted in his hair.
She gave him one of her bigger flannels, hoping that and the random pair of jeans she had found would fit him okay.
They are sat on the edge of her bed, internally she was trying to decide on whether or not she would try this spell or not.
She turned to look at him. His soft features resembled the look of a toddler at this point, he was staring into space, and he had been chewing on his fingernail intently.
She made up her mind, and she began to speak slowly.
“Kyle honey, i’m going to help you okay. Don’t be scared.” She said lowly, and he nodded a bit before looking at her.
Curiosity washed over his face as she pulled out the large book full of spells and other ailments.
“Let’s get started then.”
—
It wasn’t perfect, but she had helped. He still stumbled a bit over his words, and his feet but he was pretty much back to normal.
Y/N felt ashamed at how powerful she felt. She never knew that she could accomplish something so big.
She stuffed her feelings down, and did her best to explain everything to him. It was a lot to take in but he just nodded along.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I shouldn’t have let Zoe take you.” She said looking at the floor.
Kyle finally had a chance to look at her and really take in the sight. She had grown since last he’d seen her. Her hair was much fuller, and her eyes seemed to be a lot brighter. He had missed her. Every time something cool at school would happen, he desperately would want to tell her. She was gone though, and he had lost his best friend.
He had always loved her, and as the groggy memories came back, he new what he had to do.
He took a very slow and careful step towards the witch and placed his trembling hand on her cheek.
“It’s not your fault. You saved me Y/N.” At this point, he was sure her face was turning a dark shade of pink.
“Kyle I-” Y/N didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Kyle had placed his chapped lips on hers.
Everything she had wanted as a child was finally coming true. She had always loved him. Loved him more than best friends love each other.
They made each other’s lives complete. She was the only one that could rescue him from his mind in their teenage years. He was the one to comfort her when she was scared of the roaring thunder outside.
“I’ve missed you, Kyle. I’m sorry I had to go away.” The witch spoke, feeling tear pool in her eyes.
Her magic was starting to run kind of wild, and the candles in the room lit up, blazing fiercely and causing large shadows to appear on the bedroom walls.
He looked around in amazement, but turned his attention back to the woman when he heard a sniffle.
He wrapped his arms around her, and laid back so they could both look at the ceiling.
The two of them stayed like that, until the next morning. They were woken by a very confused Cordelia Goode.
a/n: basically y/n just got a new job, and before her first day she goes out to celebrate with some friends. she meets harry at the bar. things happen. b o o m.
warnings: angst, adult language, drinking, mentions of sex.
!theres no smut in this guys . give me a break this is my first time posting on tumblr!
words: 1.6k
After months of looking and years of hard work at college, Y/N finally got the call. She had gotten her dream job at a law firm, which might not sound like much but it very much so is. All her life this had been just what her dad wanted for her, to grow up and become a powerful lawyer and strong young woman.
So that’s what she did. She worked her ass off, never attending parties and never straying far from the lines. Pretty much everything she did was to please the memory of her beloved father.
Tonight though, was a change of pace for Y/N. A group of her friends invited her to the local bar, after finding out about her new found job.
“Come on Y/N. One drink. Live a little before you jump into that great job of yours.” Mia said into the phone.
Y/N sighed and looked around at her apartment. She didn’t really have any plans for the night, and there wasn’t any harm in having one drink with her friends. I mean, how often do you get to celebrate things like this right?
“Fine, Mia. Just one drink. No funny business though, I really can’t go in tomorrow with a hang over.” Y/N smiled.
One drink very quickly became two, and two became four. Y/N was very drunk. The room was a bit blurry, but she was certainly sober to know she’d had enough.
Mia and the group were having a blast, and of course she was as well. This type of thing was never Y/N’s scene. She was more of the ‘stay inside with a blanket and a book’ kind of girl.
She kind of hated nights like this. The smell and taste of alcohol overpowering her senses, drunk sweaty people dancing around, and a black dress that was all too short and uncomfortable.
After looking at her friends a while more, she had decided she was done. It’s way past time to call it a night.
She gave a smile to know one in particular, and turned to get her wallet.
She did not expect though, to be met with very pretty eyes and the most gorgeous hair she has probably seen on a man, or any human being for that matter.
“Can I buy you a drink, love?” The man asked, eyeing her carefully up and down.
His voice was dripping with attractiveness, and a beautiful english accent.
“Uhm, I really should be going. Thank you though,” She did her best to be polite.
Although the man looked like a literal gift from God, she really needed to get home.
She missed her pajamas. And her cat.
“Come on, just one. If you really wanna go after that, I’ll call you an uber.” He smiled.
Okay, by now Y/N was very sure she was dreaming. No man that sexy can possibly be that kind. Nope.
She looked at him carefully, like he did to her just moments ago. He was quite tall compared to her, and he was wearing a very nice suit, that fit him perfectly. A businessman maybe?
The man continued to patiently wait, until she gave her answer.
“Okay fine one drink, can I at least have your name?” She smiled at the curly headed man.
He clapped his hands together softly, and let out a chuckle.
“I’m Harry.”
——————————————————————————
Y/N felt the warmth of the sun on her as she slowly sat up in her bed. The memories of last night still a mystery in her mind.
All she knew is that, somehow she was not late for work.
And there was someone in her bed.
A man was laying next to her, facing the opposite direction. From what she could see, he was hot. He certainly had a very nice back.
“I’m Harry.”
Memories from the night prior flooded her mind. She began to slightly panic. She’s never experienced anything like this before, and she didn’t quite know what to do with the man in the bed next to her.
He was fast asleep, and right now she wishes she were dead. Out of all the stupid things she's ever done, this seems to take the cake.
Trying her best not to wake the man, Y/N made her way quietly out of her room. I mean, she could just get ready for work? Let him wake up on his own?
With the few times that she had gotten drunk in the past, she's never really had a hang over. Call it good karma, or maybe just luck.
She examined her self in the mirror, noticing the hickeys that littered her pale chest.
"Jesus. Couldn't he have aimed a little lower there Harry." She grimaced, turning away from the mirror.
Although she felt a little stupid and embarrassed, she didn't really regret sleeping with the man in her bed.
He seemed mature, which is always nice in situations like this. Not to mention he was mind numbingly attractive.
—
Soon after her shower was finished and she had gotten ready for work, she stepped out of the bathroom trying her best to prepare to wake the man up.
It took every bone in her body not to just let him stay there until he deemed fit to leave, but she figured that wouldn't be the best of ideas. She walked down the small hallway and quickly noticed the smell of coffee surrounding the apartment.
Walking into the kitchen, the man was stood in just his boxers, patiently waiting for the coffee to brew.
Standing there she decided to indulge herself a bit. She never really gets the pleasure of housing someone like this in her apartment, so she figures it wouldn't hurt to admire a bit.
"The mugs are in the top cabinet." She was a bit surprised by how weak her voice was, considering how confident she was last night.
He turned quickly and gave her a quick smile. He seemed a bit wrecked, which was a given under the circumstances.
"Hangover?" She asked, slowly making her way to the medicine cabinet.
He nodded and sat with his cup of black coffee, placing his hands around his head.
"Yes. You seem perfectly fine though. Is it bad that i kind of wish you were hungover too?" He laughed a bit, but quickly grimaced at the sound of his own voice.
What he said made her giggle a bit, before she handed him a few ibuprofen.
He mumbled a quick thank you and finished his cup of coffee.
He stood, placing his hand on either side of the counter where Y/N sat.
Suddenly, she felt like she was in junior high all over again. Y/N felt her cheeks go hot and it felt like every sign of breath had vacated her lungs.
"Hangover or not. From what i can remember, last night was great." He said in a slight whisper.
He was close enough now, that Y/N could feel his breath on my neck. It sent shivers down her spine and she could've swarm she would die right on the spot.
He placed his lips on hers gently, and boy she could've sworn she felt sparks. Her whole face was on fire at this point. No man, or woman, has ever had quite this effect on her.
"I wish I could stay love, but I have to head in to work in about an hour." He said, tracing circles on the side of her arm.
She smiled and looked at the clock, she still had about thirty minutes before she had to get to the firm, and living pretty close surely helped her situation.
"It's okay you can go. It was nice- meeting you Harry."
He gave her one last kiss on the lips before returning to the room to get dressed.
—
Y/N was actually quite sad that he had left. She wishes he could've stayed longer, but she wasn't going to be that girl.
It was a one night stand, and nothing more.
She sighed and looked up at the polished building. Her cup of coffee had gone a bit cold, but she drank it nonetheless.
She checked her watch quickly, and decided it would be best just to go ahead in.
Y/N was very nervous. She worked hard and earned her position, but she was still a bit worried about how her arrival would be taken.
She was a nice girl, and she hoped that people would treat her the same.
She got a few looks as she walked in, but most everyone continued on with their business as if she was just another intern. That she was though.
"Y/N hey!" She stopped in her tracks as her close friend Liam flagged her down.
He stopped in front of her and began to give her the run down of the building.
"Here's everything you need, badge, ID card, and I wrote down the pin numbers to the break room doors. Oh and you have a quick meeting with the boss in about five minutes. He's running late, so you can just go wait in his office." Liam panted.
I was a bit overwhelmed with all the information he gave me, but I did my best not to show my nervousness.
"Okay. I'm going to head there now. Wish me luck okay?" She grinned at the man.
He gave her a quick hug, and then hurriedly made his way over to his office.
———
The bosses office was quite bare. She'd never seen or met this man. Y/N was hired by the head of the department she'd be working in. This man that she was meeting with was the head of the whole damn building.
Kind of intimidating, but it's nothing she can't handle.
After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the door opened and closed quickly.
"I apologize for my lateness, Miss Y/L/N. I was stuck in morning traffic." A familiar voice rang out.
She grimaced and turned around slowly to face the man.
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