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In case you missed it last night!

Unforgettable | E!Austin Butler X Plus!Reader | Part 10

Warnings: description of bruises associated with SA, lots of fluff, mention of revenge.

A/N: Unforgettable is back after a long hiatus! I missed this series so much, and it was past time to come back. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy.

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: After a terrible run in with scummy Adam, Elvis flies across the United States to find you. What you thought would be a terrible day after the attack leads you into a surprising twist as Elvis wakes you...little do you know his time with you is also paired with a plan for revenge.

You scooted over to give Elvis a place to sit, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as it sank in that he was here in Memphis, and not somewhere in Hollywood.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sitting up against your headboard. The painful rigidity of your body caused you to wince. “I mean–” you threw your hands up, realizing how bluntly you had spoken. “I mean, I’m so happy to see you, but how are you here?”

“Baby, are you kidding? Evelyn told me what happened. I left California immediately to come home– and It was quite the ordeal to try to get here, let me tell you.” He grinned softly. You smiled. He sat up cross-legged, reaching for your hands.

“What about the movie? Aren’t you going to get in trouble? Are you gonna be kicked off of it?”

He placed his hand on your shoulder. “Shhh. Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn what happens. I made my choice. I needed to be here. With you.” Despite the terrible circumstance, you felt loved and protected. “And I won’t say sorry for taking care of the people I love, no matter how much money or fans I lose.”

“Wait–You love me?” You said, turning to him, eyeing him intently. You couldn’t help the heat rushing up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. His face did the same, reddening from the question.

“I–well, uh,” He stumbled, a soft rosy blush creeping up his neck and into the apples of his cheeks. You chuckled lightly at his endearing expression. “Listen, Cheeks. I-I have to be honest with you.”

You felt your heart flip in your chest and land in your gut when he spoke. His demeanor switched suddenly into something much more sensitive and careful, and because you hadn’t quite seen him like that yet, it almost terrified you.

“It’s not the right time to say this, but it’s been on my mind so heavy that I keep messin’ words up on set. My mama says I look smitten and goofy,” He continued to ramble. Your eyes sparkled, your lips curling into a grin which grew wider and wider as Elvis continued to trip nervously over the next words.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. Not ever. You are the most…refreshing thing to come into my life in so long. You are my very first thought in the morning and the very last at night–And really, I never thought I’d say that I love a woman before we’ve officially gone steady, but I can’t help it.” You couldn’t help the grin that was blooming across your face, wishing he’d stop talking and kiss you instead. “I just want to ask you one thing. Y/n. My beautiful Cheeks. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckled softly and brought your hands up to caress the curve of his cheeks, pulling him in for a soft kiss, offering a non-verbal answer first. “Yes, Elvis. Of course!” You looked into his eyes, feeling the warmth in his gaze. It comforted you into almost forgetting the sordid details of what had happened in his absence. He leaned into your embrace, gently kissing the soft curve of your lips, which sent sparks which crackled through your body like lightning–and suddenly everything felt like it would be okay. You reached your arms forward, pulling him further against you upon the bed. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at the bedroom door while you pulled him down.

“Oh! Ow!” Elvis spat, slamming his elbow into the corner of your bedside table on the way down.

“Oh!” You covered your mouth from surprise. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?” You asked, backing off of him.

“I’m fine.” He chuckled softly, his lips curled in an embarrassed grin. “Better than fine,” He assured you, returning to kiss you once more. You could feel the tight ache in your muscles, but quickly threw away the intrusive thoughts of Adam that crept within your consciousness. Elvis had turned the entire situation on its head today, securing his place within your life. You knew that as soon as he could, he’d make sure that Adam would never think of saying your name or expressing a single thought about you–especially if he wanted to be able to walk away unscathed.

***

“I’m assuming you two are official now?” Evelyn said, sitting in her father’s arm chair, stuffing potato chips in her mouth. “I could hear you giggling like a little girl from the kitchen.” You walked through the living room hand in hand with Elvis. You didn’t immediately respond, but your face said everything. “Yay! I’m so happy for you guys! What about those crazy fangirls, though? Or the media,” She said, chewing with her mouth open. “Or the photographers? What happens when they find out?” You watched as Momo ate the chips that managed to fall messily to the floor.

“Woah, woah, woah kid.” Elvis said with a grin, holding his hand in the air to stop her. “One thing at a time.”

“Well, she’s got a good point, Son.” Uncle Harold said, walking into the living room, straightening his tie and combing his hair back, obviously getting ready to head out of the house. “I don’t want my girl dealing with all that.”

“Uncle Harold. I love you. I love you so much, but I am an adult. I can take care of myself, and I’m sure that Elvis will take care of me.”

Uncle Harold straightened his back, heaving a deep sigh. “I know you are, honey. But considering what just happened…and what happened at my store, I can’t help but be the bad guy–at least for a while.”

“You’re not the bad guy. You take care of me and protect me. You always have.”

“Sir, my hand to God–I’ll never hurt her or let anyone hurt her if I have anything to say about it,” Elvis said, pulling his arm around you.

“Just prepare yourself. Both of you. Prepare for there to be fallout.” Uncle Harold said, bending to kiss you on the forehead before heading out of the door. “Welcome to the family, son,” He said, extending his hand forward for Elvis to take.

***

“I want to meet your family, Elvis. I think it’s time.” You told him, folding the load of laundry that Uncle Harold had finished and brought you. It was nice having Elvis there with you, not expecting anything, but just happy to be in your presence. He sat on your bed, leaning back against your headboard.

“My family?” He said with a grin. You watched him, knowing he was about to say something smart. You nodded. “I thought I told you I’m an orphan…long lost cousins and aunties have come out of the woodworks since the first album, let me tell you.” You reached for one of your sweaters, bunching it into a ball and tossing it at Elvis, hitting him squarely in the chest..

“Seriously, Elvis.” You said, trying your bed to maintain a resolved expression and failing. “I wanna meet them. I think I deserve to.”

Elvis leaned forward, straightening his body, setting your sweater to the side, his grin lowering into something more resolved. “You deserve the world, Y/n. Best believe I promise to give it to you. Ya know…I told Mama about you.” He said. You watched his lips move, your head swimming with just how effortlessly beautiful he was–without even trying.

“You did? What did you say? Nothing bad, I hope. You didn’t tell her about–”

“No, no. Of course not,” He cut you off immediately, pulling his hand up to stop you. “No. I told her that I came home to visit someone special. I told her about you and couldn’t stop blushin.’” he said, narrowing his eyes with mischief. “She knew immediately that it was a girl.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve got Elvis Presley blushing?” You said, twisting back and forth like a kid in a candy shop.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He asked flirtatiously. His eyes sparkled, causing your belly to flip. “Ever since that first date, you’re all I can think about, Cheeks. Maybe even since that first day when I met you in the avalanche of books.”

“Really?” You asked, still finding it incredibly difficult to believe that Elvis Presley found that much interest in you, the chubby, average, petite girl. “What made you choose me, Elvis?” You asked boldly. You fidgeted as you waited for his answer, busying your hands by folding the rest of your laundry.

“I didn’t have to choose you,” He said simply. “Wanna know what the first thing was that I noticed about you?” He asked, looking intently at you. You nodded, genuinely curious as to what he would say.

“Your beautiful smile,” He said, picking up the sweater you had thrown at him. He began to stroke the fabric absently between his fingers as he spoke. He looked up at you slowly. “You made my heart flip out of my chest that day. I was like a newborn stag that day. Barely able to walk straight. That’s why I wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t. Because of you.”

“Me?” You asked, almost confused.

“Yes, you. Why’s it so hard to believe? He asked with a wide smirk, almost entertained at your disbelief.

“I’m not used to–this,” you said, referring to yours and Elvis’s relationship. “I’ve never really been in a relationship before. I’m not used to attention. I’ve always been known as the smart girl. The big girl. Never pretty or popular.” You spoke honestly, and it surprised you with how easy it was to tell Elvis the truth. It was because you trusted him.

“Cheeks, I don’t give a damn what people say about us,” he said, setting the sweater down and crossing his arms across his chest. “I care about you. If anyone dares say something to you or me, I will knock their front teeth in,” he said. You watched his features tighten at the thought of anyone saying disparaging comments to you. “Like that sorry toad,” he spat. “He will get his day in Hell, that’s for sure. I don’t know how yet, but trust me, it will be better than simply beating his sorry ass one good time.”

“Elvis,” You said, narrowing your gaze. “I’m okay, really. He just scared mea bit.” You said, shrugging off the true seriousness of the situation.

“Just scared you? Honey, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” He asked, his eyes widening with concern. “Sweetheart, you’re bruised all over your arms and neck. I’ve been trying not to look. If I do, I will waste my time with you thinking about how I want to wring his goddamn neck.” You noticed as he swallowed nervously, or angrily. You couldn’t really tell. His fists bunched and released within his lap.

Your hands snaked up your body, touching your skin in the tender areas. You hadn’t looked in the mirror, it was true. You winced as you touched the painful spots. The shock of the situation had deemed you complacent to everything he had done to you. Quite frankly, you didn’t want to think about it, because if you did, you’d fall apart in front of Elvis, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Adam wasn’t worth it.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured softly. “I’m sorry, honey. I- I made this about me.”

“It’s alright. Listen, I still want to meet your Mom, your Dad,” you said, sighing. “I guess I’ll just wear a turtleneck or something.” Elvis eyed you skeptically.

“You’re gonna cook alive, darlin’. It’s hot as Hell outside.” Elvis said, his eyebrows pulling upward, questioning you.

“Well, do you have a better idea?” You asked him. He shook his head no. “I just don’t want to show up meeting your family with bruises all over.”

“Well, we can always wait until I get back,” He said. “They’re not going anywhere.”

You sighed with disappointment. “Okay.” You both sat together for a long, quiet moment before he spoke again.

“Oh Cheeks, if it means that much to you, we will make a day out of it. I know for a fact that Mama and Daddy are gonna love you.”

“Turtleneck it is,” You said, a smile returning to your cheeks.

Elvis got up from the bed and came up behind you, hugging you gently around the waist. “You’re gonna be a steamin’ pot roast by the end of the afternoon,” He said, kissing you softly on your cheek and ear. “My little pot roast.”

“You are a strange man,” you said, turning to look up at him.

“Eh, I usually get away with it,” He said with a sexy wink. You pushed him away with your hands on his chest. “Go hang with Evey and Uncle Harold for a minute. Let me get dressed,” You said, chuckling.

With the door finally shut behind you, you made your way into your connected bathroom and finally took a look at yourself for the first time since the attack. Your face remained untouched, yet your arms had bloomed in ugly bruises. It was easy to map where Adam had assaulted you. Small, purple splotches cropped out upon your skin in lasting evidence of his touch. Looking at the dark, ugly spots made you sick, flipping your gut in a sickening wallop. You gripped the countertop of the sink, forcing yourself to look away. Even your hands were bruised, but not obviously noticeable. Evidence of the assault was all over your body; if you felt like you couldn’t look at yourself before, these marks made you an ‘untouchable.’ You sighed disgustedly, turning away from the mirror and sauntered out of the bathroom. You got dressed, choosing a maroon pair of corduroy slacks to pair with a white ribbed turtleneck that did manage to conceal most of the visible bruises on your skin. You primped extra, taking time to curl your hair and pin it nicely, applying tasteful makeup to your cheeks, lips and lashes. You hoped that this extra effort would distract for the horrid truth underneath it all.

“How do I look?” You asked hesitantly, walking into the living room where Elvis sat with Uncle Harold, discussing something about football. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey!” Uncle Harold said, a proud smile spreading on his face.

“I agree. You look wonderful, Baby.” Elvis agreed. Uncle Harold eyed Elvis pointedly, almost causing you to snort.

“Thank you.” You offered them both a warm smile.

“You ready?” Elvis asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket to retrieve his keys. You nodded, joining him as he got up and headed towards the front door.

“You two have fun. When can I expect her back?” Uncle Harold asked. He didn’t seem as protective as he had been before, which surprised you.

“I’ll have her home right after dinner, sir.” Elvis assured him respectfully.

“Have her home by eleven,” he said, extending your curfew. You were surprised, given how tough he was with Elvis. He seemed to be coming around. Elvis turned to him with surprise.

“Eleven?” He asked, repeating the time.

“Don’t make me regret it,” He said with a slight grin. “Now, shoo! Go have fun.” You watched as your uncle’s lips turned up in a slight grin, though he did his best to hide it.

Elvis opened the front door for you, and he followed you into the front yard. “Where’s your car? Did you park it in a hiding spot somewhere?” You asked prematurely before noticing the new car in the driveway. “What’s this?” You asked, stopping and turning to him.

“I thought the Cadi was a bit too…”

“Ostentatious?”

“Yeah, that word.”

You couldn’t help but grin, slightly embarrassed. “You’re my little bookworm,” He teased, reaching for your hand, squeezing it softly. “I got the new car so that it would be easier for me to visit. Not as many questions asked, you know?” He asked, smoothing down his hair with his free hand. He jingled the keys in his pocket, pulling them out and unlocking your door for you, letting you get in first. The car was brand new, and sparkled a bright blue. The interior was fabricated in beautiful moisturized leather the color of chocolate brown.

“Wow,” you said, smoothing your hands over the leather. “It’s so pretty.”

Elvis smiled proudly. “Isn’t it? Chevrolet…built to last, you could say,” he said with a wink, putting the keys into the ignition and starting the car. It came to life in a roar and before you knew it, you both were on the road with the windows down.

“Oh, I didn’t think to ask,” He said with a chuckle, watching your hair blowing wildly from the air whipping through the vehicle. “I’ll roll them back up.”

You shot your hand out to stop him. “Don’t! I like it.” You said with a grin. “I’ll fix it later.”

“You’re gonna look like you went through a wind tunnel, darlin’.” He grinned beautifully, turning his head to look between your face and your messy hair.

“Yeah, well. I’m feeling a bit rebellious,” you said, turning to him with a grin.

“Well, you did sneak out of your house at one in the morning to hang out with a man you barely knew. Not to mention he’s famous…and known to be a bad boy.”

“More like the most famous man in the world,” he added. “Who also has a reputation of being a bad boy,” you corrected.

He drove for a while, letting the car fill with silence, beside the quiet crackle of the radio. “Elvis?” You asked.

“Hm?” He asked, eyeing you from over the steering wheel.

“How is this going to work?”

“You mean with Mama and Daddy? Baby, they’re not gonna bite you,” He snorted, reaching across the seat for your hand.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I just–I don’t know how to not feel like…like I’m holding you back. I live in Memphis, but you’re always traveling, and I don’t see that stopping any time soon.”

He was quiet for a moment as he drove. “Can I ask you a question?” He asked, turning the question around. “What’s scaring you the most? Because I can guarantee you that I am in this completely. I’m here for you. And I’m not going anywhere, even when I have to travel. Are you worried that I won’t think of you? Or that I won’t be honest?” He asked.

“No,” You said, although the tone of your voice didn’t inspire confidence. “It’s not that. I know you’re a good guy. It’s just…I don’t know. I just don’t understand why it’s me. I just don’t.” You let your insecurities show once again. You were sure you’d begin to annoy Elvis soon enough with how often you questioned your relationship with him.

“Can I tell you a story? Or really, can I tell you about someone?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, stopping at a red light. You nodded.

There’s a woman on set–my co-star, actually.” he began. “She’s absolutely beautiful. Exquisite skin–she’s tall. Dark Hair…Doe-eyed. Full lips that always seem turned up in this little smile, like she knows something that others don’t. Absolutely gorgeous.” You sat in your seat, picking at the beds of your fingernails as you listened to him describing the woman. “Her name is Judy.”

You couldn’t help the jealousy that began to burn a hole deep within your gut. It was like corrosive acid. You realized that you were beginning to pick and dig painfully at your skin. You forced yourself to relax. “And?” You asked pointedly. Elvis could sense the tension in your tone, turning to look at you in the moment of stillness.

“The point is, no matter how pretty she is–and she’s absolutely stunning. Charming, too–” he made sure to clarify. “She’s not you, Cheeks.” You remained silent, watching him intently.

“I have a reputation of being a ladies man. Of running around–maybe taking advantage of my fame. I won’t pretend it isn’t somewhat true. Or at least in the past. But I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Never?”

“Y/n, I’ve never introduced a woman to my family if that tells you anything.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting together. He shook his head.

“No one serious…I mean, there were a couple in high school, but we went to school together, and I was still a kid. But since then…Since all the blessings, I’ve protected that side of my life–But you? You belong there. You belong in that safe place. I want and need you there–and I’ll prove it to you every single day until you believe me.”

You couldn’t help the grateful smile that spread across your lips. “I take it that that made you happy?” He asked with a toothy grin.

“Very much so,” You answered.

“Can I ask you another question?” He asked. You could see that he was thinking of the question before he had strung the words together, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“Mmhmm.”

“Would you ever go with me to California? While I’m filming?”

“You want me to travel with you?” You asked, turning in your seat, surprised, but elated at the same time.

“Of course I do. Have you ever traveled that far?” He asked, turning onto the highway that would lead to Graceland.

“I’ve gone to Mississippi with my family, but besides that, it’s always been Memphis,” you admitted.

He nodded slowly as he drove. “Do you think your uncle would let you?”

“He can’t stop me,” You answered righteously. “It’s about time I do some things on my own. I know that you’d take care of me, too.”

“After she meets you, Mama will run me up the hill if anything happens to you on my watch. I know that she will love you that much.”

“You think so?” you asked, reaching your hands up to smooth your hair as best you could, watching the large wrought-iron fence appear in front of you.

“I know so.”

***

The house was large, and almost glowed from atop the hill from how beautiful the exterior was. It was a large home, cloaked in a grove of Huge oak trees which towered over the property, throwing speckled patches of shade across the emerald lawn.

“Now I understand why you say you love it here,” you said softly as he drove through the gates.

“It’s heaven on Earth, trust me. And it’s just the start. I have so many ideas. I can’t wait to show you everything.” He was giddy to show you the house. He had told you that night on the Memphis Riverwalk so many things about his life. He went on at length about his life, spending a lot of time talking about his mom and dad, about how often he had moved growing up and about the friends he had gained from all walks of life because of it. Before the fame, he had owned practically nothing except for time-beaten children’s guitar that he had played for years. Until moving to Memphis, he never had his own bedroom. He didn’t have fancy clothes. The family had an old, used car that they had packed everything they owned to move from Tupelo to Memphis for a new start. He never truly fit in at school, but at the same time, it never bothered him too much. Elvis knew who he was. He never needed anyone else to tell him who he needed to be, what ideas he had to have, what items or possessions he needed…none of it really mattered. He just wanted music–the one true thing that connected with his soul. Now that he possessed so much fame, there was very little left to want–the very opposite of the life he had growing up. The remarkable thing about Elvis was that no matter the amount of fame or notoriety he had, he never came off jaded; not for an instant. His car pulled around the front of the house, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as it stood in its stately elegance.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” You said, struggling not to appear overly astonished.

“Thank you. Earned every square inch. She is beautiful. Graceland is the perfect name, don’t you think?” He asked, turning off the ignition and stepping out of the car.

“Thank you,” you said as he opened your door for you. He shut the car door closed before offering you his hand as he proudly walked you to the large front entrance. He tried the door knob and it was unlocked.

“Mama? Daddy?” Elvis said, his volume rising enough to ring throughout the house.

“In the kitchen, baby!” A woman’s voice shouted back from somewhere in the house.

“Come on in, baby.” He said, holding the door open over your head. You ducked and walked into the house, your eyes scanning over how exquisitely decorated it was. The living room was furnished in the finest furniture, including what must have been a fifteen-foot long sofa. It was beautiful–a metallic shade of blue that brightened the room. The curtains were exquisitely white with blue accents draping the top of the windows. The house was carpeted in luxurious frost-white flooring, which almost seemed to glow from the natural light that spilled through the windows.

“Wow,” you mused. Your face must have gone slack because you heard Elvis snicker beside you.

“I wanted to paint the walls purple, but Mama wouldn’t let me. She said it looked too ‘garrish,’ he said, pulling his hands out his pockets to create quotes in the air. You grinned at him.

“Purple?” You asked him, obviously amused.

“Mmhmm, and pinstripe curtains.”

“Uh…well.”

“I know, I know, maybe not the best choice. Mom was right, but I won’t ever tell her…” He pulled his arm around you playfully, pulling you to his side.

“Tell me what?” Gladys asked with a knowing grin, padding into the living room from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a hand towel that had rested on her shoulder.. There was sweat beading on her brow and she wore a heavily floured apron over her clothing.

“Nothin’ Mama.”

“Now who’s this beautiful young lady, Darlin’?” She asked, wiping her brow before returning her hands to her hips.

“Mama, this is Y/n. She’s the girl I told you about.” You couldn’t help but feel your belly doing somersaults as he openly admitted it to his mother.

“I hope nothing terrible,” you spoke up with a bright smile. “Mrs. Presley, Elvis has told me so many amazing things about you. Said you’re such a good mama.”

The apples of Gladys’s cheeks were ringed in fresh blush, and her thin, delicate lips spread into a warm and comforting smile. “He better’ve! I’ve been cookin’ for him all day,” she said, pulling the hand towel from her shoulder and playfully swatting Elvis’s butt with it.

“Hey!” He chuckled, stepping forward to give his mother a kiss on the cheek, pulling her in for a hug.

“Well, Miss Y/n, I’m a hugger. You don’t mind, do ya?” She asked, her arms still open.

“Not at all,” You welcomed her in, taking a step forward. She didn’t know you at all yet, but she still threw her arms around you, nonetheless squeezing you with fondness. You felt the ache again, but you ignored it.

“Now sweetheart. How on God’s green earth are you not burning alive in this thing?” She said, holding you at your sides as she pulled away from the hug. You remembered that you were wearing the turtleneck. Since you had left your house, it had fit to your body like a second skin, and after a while, you forgot about it.

“Laundry day,” You began, looking down at the shirt. “Had to pull out random clothes until I could find something clean and cute. Couldn’t meet you looking frumpy, now could I?” You asked, laying on the charm.

“With as sweet as you are, sugar…you come as you are whenever you want.” You felt drawn to her, and you could understand instantly why Elvis loved her so much. She radiated kindness and charisma and you knew you’d come to crave her attention and care.

“I got fresh biscuits and gravy goin’ in the kitchen. Should be done just about now. Booby, have you eaten?” She asked, turning over her shoulder at Elvis, who blushed at the nickname. You tried and failed to conceal the enthused expression from your face. He tapped the outside of your thigh silently as you walked with him, his neck and face spreading with embarrassment.

“I think it’s cute,” You whispered, “booby?” You bumped him back.

“No mama, I didn’t eat. Serve me double,” He responded to his mother, turning the corner into the large corner where she stood over a deep cast iron skillet, stirring a thick gravy that both smelled and looked absolutely delicious..

“Y/n, honey, would you like some?” She asked while fixing Elvis’s plate.

“Sure!” You said enthusiastically, before your instincts could take over, filling your mind with insecurity. You couldn’t help it; years of ridicule–both from yourself and others, had made you clam up at the mention of food, particularly in front of others. You pushed down the feeling, deciding instead to smile, joining Elvis at the casual dining table in the kitchen. “This place is so gorgeous,” you said, watching Elvis take a few bites of the meal while Gladys made yours.

“Just wait until you see the rest,” he said with bright eyes, his mouth half full with food. “It’s not perfect yet, but I really think this is my forever home. Don’t you think, Mama?” Gladys turned, walking the plate of food over to you, setting it down in front of you.

“Absolutely, baby. I love this home. I was just talking to your grandmother about it,” She said, sighing and taking a seat in the empty chair between you and Elvis.“We’re used to nothin’, let me tell you,” she said mostly to you. “Not a penny matters to us as long as we’ve got each other– but this house certainly feels like the home we’ve always dreamed of, right honey?” She asked, reaching to squeeze Elvis’s shoulder lovingly.

“Of course, Mama,” Elvis said, chewing another bite.. You took a bite of the food in front of you, immediately feeling your taste buds exploding from the amazing flavor. It transported you through time back to your childhood, when your father and mother waltzed around the kitchen locked within each other’s embrace, absolutely in love. You sat in thought, pondering over how food had the unique and amazing quality to ignite memories, some of which you had forgotten about.

“What do you think, Y/n?” Elvis asked, snapping you back to attention.

“What? I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked.

“Momma was just talking about the stables. I need to feed the horses. Want to come?”

“You have horses?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Mmhmm,” He said, standing from the table, taking his plate and setting it in the deep sink. “Two of them. And an ass,” he chuckled, his mother cutting an eye at him.

“I want more though. There’s a whole lotta land back there. I wanna fill it out with the strongest, most beautiful race horses,” he said, his eyes cast in hopeful dreaming.

“Well, let’s stay humble with what we’ve got for now, Satnin,” Gladys said, patting Elvis’s back. “You can barely keep up with the two you’ve got. This time last month we had to hire extra housekeepers to shampoo the carpets. Elvis let the horses roam right in. You would have thought this was the stable,” she reached for your plate, using the hand towel on her shoulder to flick off the biscuit flakes from the table onto the floor. You looked up at Elvis with a slightly judgemental expression.

“I was having fun!” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.

“If that’s your idea of fun, I am in deep, deep trouble,” you said.

“He better behave around you, baby. Or I’ll have Vernon chase him down the road with his own cadillac.”

“Okay, okay Mama,” Elvis interjected, leading his mother towards the back door of the house. “You should show Y/n your vegetable garden–I know how much you love it. I’ve got to make a quick phone call,” he spoke. You raised an eyebrow with curiosity, feeling your anxiety spike slightly knowing you’d be left alone with Elvis’s mother. You wanted to leave the best impression, and truth be told, you didn’t have the best track record of not making a fool of yourself when it came to being nervous around others.

***

“Red, I need a favor,” Elvis spoke, stroking his chin to comfort himself.

“What’s the matter, E?” Red spoke on the other side of the phone. “Someone crawl over the fence again? Need backup?” He asked in a long southern drawl.

“No, no, no,” Elvis gesticulated his hand dismissively though his friend couldn’t see the gesture. “I need you to hire someone at the dealership.”

“What exactly are you gettin’ at?” He asked. Elvis raked his fingers through his hair, loosening the carefully coiffed style.

“It’s a long story.” Elvis said. “Meet me at home at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I need you to do something for me–and it won’t be pretty.” Elvis didn’t speak further on the phone, saying a curt goodbye before placing the receiver back onto the wall.

Tomorrow revenge would begin–on his terms.

Taglist: @mamaspresley @anestesia-mxm @misspygmypie @austin-butlers-gf @cozacorner @she-is-juniper @shimmeringlights44 @mariposa-mila @austinelvisimagines @sagesolsticewrites @guns-n-queen @anangelwhodidntfall @avengen @suitrry @eurusthewanderer @domaniquessidehoe @kittenlittle24 @mirandastuckinthe80s @stargiirl27 @maddieks-blog @kyddosebastian @girlnairb @its-funny-til-its-not @im-just-star-dust @venus-haze @groovydeputyfestivalkid @hockeyfootballhoe @21bruhs @thebeatlesbitch @captured-memory @kingelviscreole @adoreyouusugar @slutforblueeyes @theinvisiblecapricorn @ghxst-heart @yagirlalexx @sapph1re @madzandflowerz31 @kaycinema @theloveoftoms @annamarie16 @omgellenlouise @re3kin @feverdawg @cutie-ghost @shynovelist @fxntxsix @rheathesimp @madzandflowerz31 @writeroutoftime @bamitzzsam @meladollsims @mslizziesblog @headfullofpresley@shandis-world @in-my-body-bag @ash-omalley @stitchattacks @fullmetal-falcon @lolllasblog@omgellenlouise@wolffes-cyarika @kaitaesupremacy @tyne18 @marchingicenotes7 @notstefaniepresley @horselover1992 @dkayfixates

#austin butler #elvis #austin butler fanfic #elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler x reader

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butler-on-beale-street · 1 year

Text

Here’s part 4 to catch up!

Unforgettable | E!Austin Butler X Plus!Reader | Part 4

Warnings: I used one word, "cripple" , that is definitely tinged with ablism, but I used it to fit the dialogue of the time. If you guys would like me to edit it out, please let me know. Tooth rotting fluff!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Here's another part! Expect many more to follow!

Edit: here are two WONDERFUL moodboards that were made for unforgettable by the lovely @superbatson and @mpmarypoppins Here are the links respectively! They are exactly the vibe I am going for!

Moodboard 1 | Moodboard 2

He went back home, telling you he wants to see you again...but you're not fond of the waiting game.

It had been over a week and you missed him. Business returned to normal and no one knew that Elvis had ever stepped foot in your bookstore. You felt spoiled in his presence, and your return to normal felt more like punishment than anything else.

“Y/n, honey. I asked you to stock the back shelves,” Uncle Harold said, snapping you back to the present.

“Hmm?” You said, spinning to look at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me go take care of it.”

He eyed you with a raised eyebrow, most likely concerned with your unusually spacy behavior. “You need a cup of coffee. Maybe two,” He said, pulling his reading glasses further up on his nose.

You chuckled nervously. “Hmm, maybe. I’ll make one in a few. Would you like one, too?” You offered, attempting to appear more present within the conversation. “It’ll be extra special because I made it,” You smiled at him exaggeratedly.

“Please. Two sugars.” He said softly before continuing to his next errand within the store. You heaved a deep sigh, letting your shoulders sink, your posture hunching forward as you sauntered to the kitchenette.

“Well hello there, Quasimodo,” Evelyn began, twirling a cherry twizzler. She sat on one of the laminate countertops. “Don’t you have a church to haunt?” She chewed with her mouth open, grinning in response to her wisecrack.

“Quasimodo wasn’t a ghost. He was a cripple.” You answered, stepping in to set up the coffee pot.

“Same thing,” She answered feebly, continuing to chew the candy absurdly loud.

You remained quiet as you plugged in the percolator, stepping to the side to fill it with water and insert a coffee filter into the top. “No…” She began, her voice lilting upward. “Something’s wrong with you.”

You looked up at the wall in front of you as you filled the coffee pot, considering what she might say next. “You’re extra quiet and you look like hell.” You couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically.

“Mm,” You nodded, placing the percolator on the counter before turning to your cousin. “Tell me, Evey. What else do you see?” You asked, sarcasm leeched throughout your tone. She finished the candy before speaking again.

“You’re lovesick.” She offered simply.

“Excuse me? I’m what?”

“You’re obviously missing Elvis. I can tell.” Evelyn’s approach softened as she spoke and you watched her hop off of the counter and lean against the fridge. “Do you think he’s gonna come back?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” You answered, and it was true. That entire day felt like a lucid dream, one where you knew that you were asleep, but everytime you pinched yourself you couldn’t seem to snap back into reality. “It’s a risk every time he goes out in public. I mean, if we were like other girls, he would have been mauled.”

Evelyn giggled softly. “He is dreamy, that’s for sure,” She said, her lips curling upward. “It’s obvious that you like each other– something beyond just looks and politeness. That’s why I left you alone when he came over.” It was nice to have this type of conversation, but at the same time, it was strange hearing it instead of giving it. “Elvis is an independent man. If he wants to, he will find you. He will reach out. I just know it.” She strolled to the door, stopping before returning to the sales floor. “In the meantime, you left the coffee pot running without the top on.”

Your eyes widened and you spun around, watching the contents of the machine bubble over onto the countertop, creating a trail of mess down the lower cabinets.. “Damn, damn, damn!” You spat under your breath, rushing to find a towel.

***

“That will be one dollar and twenty three cents,” You said, ringing up a young woman whose child hung from her arm, reaching desperately for the stack of books that she had collected.

“Baby, you can see them in just a moment,” The mother said sweetly and you watched her child pout, her lips folding out and her eyebrows tilting inward, almost causing you to start laughing. She was beautiful; her hair fell in immaculate white-blonde ringlets and her eyes were strikingly green.

“I just want to read!” She said, her tone pulled upward with frustration.

“You can as soon as I pay this nice young lady,” the mother said, pulling out her wallet from her purse.

“Hmph,” You heard as the little girl turned away from her mother, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Sorry, she’s too smart for her own good. “Three years old and already reading big girl books,” she said, stroking the top of her daughter’s head.

“No worries, that was me when I was her age,” You said, taking a check from the woman and putting it into the register. “Kind of works out that I ended up here.” The woman gave a few words of thanks before walking away. You watched as her daughter held the bag of books up in front of her by the handles, beaming from ear to ear.

“You were that way once.” You turned to see uncle Harold leaning against the wall beside you. “Every time I’d come to visit, I’d give you any book you wanted. You loved picture books when you were teeny tiny–then you got too smart for your own good and told me, ‘uncle Harry, I want big girl books,’ and I’d bring those to you. “Do you remember that?” He asked, as if you had forgotten.

“Of course I do. I have almost every single book you’ve ever gotten me.” You held those books near and dear to your heart. “I’m glad they were still packed away in the garage.” Uncle Harold nodded solemnly before stepping forward to take your hands in his.

“I love you, Darling. From the bottom of my heart.” He leaned in and kissed you softly on the cheek before returning to work. From the day that your parents had passed, he and your Aunt Molly had, with no question, taken care of you. You didn’t talk about it very often, but they both knew that you appreciated their devotion to you.

“Mail!” You looked up from the register to see Donnie arriving with several packages stacked in his arms.

“Hey, Donnie! Thank you.” You let him offload the mail onto the counter before signing for the parcels. “Good to see you, miss Y/n. Where’s Evelyn?” He asked, avoiding eye contact, his cheeks blushing.

“She’s probably reading a magazine she didn’t pay for,” You answered with a soft grin. “Want me to tell her you said hello?” You raised an eyebrow, knowing the answer.

“Oh–uh,” He stuttered.

“It’s no problem. I’m sure she will be delighted,” You told him and you watched his eyes soften.

“Thank you,” He said quickly before ducking out of the shop and hopping back in his mail truck. You couldn’t help but shake your head. Just another admirer. You gave yourself a mental note. Put that new name on the list.

You unwrapped the twine holding the parcels together, separating each piece of mail. Bill, another bill, invoice for furnace repair, A book that you had pre-ordered for Tammy Gotfried…and another package. It was a decently sized flat, rectangular box that was wrapped in brown kraft paper. In the upper corner, the address read 3764 Highway 51 South, Memphis, Tennessee. The sender name was scrawled, ‘Capt. Marvel Junior,” to a miss Y/ln. Your eyebrows knit together as you pulled the package on its side, tearing it open. You threw the outer packaging to the ground. Inside was a pearl-white gift box that was almost too beautiful to open. A white satin ribbon was wrapped around it, packaged with care. You pulled at the ribbon, letting it unravel. You looked around you to make sure that no one was looking at you while you opened this mystery package.

You pulled off the lid of the box, setting it aside. Inside, the item was concealed in many leaves of tissue paper. You pulled them out, letting them fall to the floor.

“Oh my,” you said to yourself as you saw it for the first time. Neatly folded and tucked within the box was a beautiful dress. You pulled it slowly out of the box, shaking it free of its confinement. A small enclosed envelope fell to the floor, having gone unseen. You set it to the side as you held the garment up in front of you. It was a full, lined swing dress that was adorned with intricate periwinkle lace around every edge. The entire dress was embroidered in bright pairs of cherries. You let your hands wander about the dress, touching and feeling the quality of the luxurious fabric between your fingers. After a moment, you set the dress carefully to the side before picking up the card.

A woman like yourself deserves to be given the finest—I had this made for you, I sure hope you don’t mind. The cherry fabric made me smile when I saw it. I would be a liar if I said I don’t think about you. I confess that I cannot stop thinking about you. I’d like to see you again, hopefully somewhere where you could wear this dress.

The very best to you and your family. Remember to keep smiling, Cheeks. Happiness looks brilliant on you.

E.P.

The note was handwritten and you could tell that Elvis spent time deciding on what he was going to say. You ran your fingers over the divots in the paper from his pen, replaying the amazing day you had together. You couldn’t help the wide grin that overtook your face.

“Be careful, if you smile any bigger, you’ll be stuck that way forever.” Evelyn teased as she walked by with a stack of new book inventory. You chuckled softly, unbothered. “What is it?” She asked, setting the books on the front counter.

“Look for yourself,” You answered, rotating the gift box so that she could see what was inside of it. You watched her eyes grow wide.

“Wow,” she responded as she reached her fingers into the box to touch the delicate fabric. “From–?” She asked, her eyebrows raising. She didn’t insert the name, but she didn’t need to.

You nodded softly, pulling the dress out once more, pulling it up against your body. “He apparently had it made for me,” You said, embarrassment causing you to detract your gaze from her.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous! I’m jealous,” She said with a friendly smile. “Did he say anything? Leave a card?” You nodded again.

“Said he’d like to see me again, somewhere where I could wear this dress.” You swung the dress against your body, watching how the full skirt moved. You folded it back as closely as you could to the way that he had left it packaged.

“Let me get this straight,” Evelyn said, pointing her finger out in front of her to you. “There might really be a chance for you to be going steady with Elvis Presley…” Her eyes glimmered at the thought, most likely imagining herself in your shoes.

“It’s not like that,” you insisted. “He just wants to spend time with me.” You shrugged your shoulders dismissively.

“Mmhmm,” She said, eying the white envelope on the counter. Her hands flew in front of her as she grabbed the letter. “Hey! Stop! That’s mine–” You tried to snatch it back from her, but she was too fast.

“Why so secretive, Y/n? You said it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You watched her nervously as she read the letter. “Cannot stop thinking about you…” Her eyes widened over the top of the letter as she looked at you. “Elvis Presley can’t stop thinking about you.” Her face was casted in an amazed expression, as if she couldn’t believe that someone like him could be interested in someone like you.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” You asked, snatching the letter back from her.

“I’m just surprised.” She said simply.

“That Elvis could ever be interested in a woman who doesn’t look like Marilyn Monroe or Grace Kelly?” Your tone was pointed and you couldn’t help the grimace that was beginning to ruin your mood.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” She said defensively.

“Sure sounded like it.” You answered, throwing the dress back into the box and laying the card on top. You stomped off with the gift, leaving her standing alone.

***

You excused yourself to your bedroom that evening, preoccupied with thoughts of Elvis. Thoughts of what his real life was like and how you’d ever fit into it swarmed your brain. Is he just being nice? A gentleman? What am I to him? You stared up at your ceiling with your hands clasped together over your chest. Sleep wouldn't come no matter how hard you tried. You adjusted your pillows, kicked down the top sheet and hot blanket to the end of the bed, but still couldn’t get comfortable.

“Ugh!” you spat at yourself, reaching to your side table to grab the book you had begun to read over the past few days–The Chronicles of Narnia: The Last Battle by C.S Lewis. You reached up and turned your lamp on, grateful that the light was dim enough to keep you from squinting. You pulled the book open, removing your crocheted bookmark from inside and setting it aside. You began to absorb yourself into the book. Before you knew it, the pages were turning and turning and you became immersed within the movie that played in your head. You laid there for quite some time, making good progress in the novel. You didn’t notice it at first, but when it happened again, your eyes darted upward. Through your sheer window drapes, an elongated flash lit up your room and then turned off for a second, only to repeat itself several times again. You closed the book and set it aside, sitting up in bed to wait for the moment to happen again. It was a long moment of nothingness before the sequence began again.

Your eyebrows scrunched with confusion. What the? You peeled back your sheets and got out of bed, drawn to the window to find out what the light was. You pulled the curtains to the side to look through the window. On the other side of the street, there were headlights streaming into your bedroom from a car that was backed into the driveway of the house directly in front of yours. It was vacant, put up for sale within the last few weeks since the owners sold it. When the lights dimmed, you understood. It was bright enough to see through the windshield. Elvis sat with his hands on the steering wheel, a grin plastered on his face. You shook your head in disbelief as you pulled open the locking mechanisms in your window. You heaved the window open, raising it above your head before you leaned out, trying your best to maintain a respectable volume.

“Elvis! What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice presenting itself somewhere in between a shout and a whisper. You watched as he winked at you, stepping out of his car, holding the door and looking at you.

“Just checking out the neighborhood, Cheeks,” He said. You could see that he was chewing on a toothpick. You lowered your head at the sarcasm, eying him with a smirk. You watched as he closed his car door as quietly as he could before walking across the street towards you, stopping in the yard just below your window. “Your family asleep?” He asked simply.

“Yes, Elvis. It’s–” You looked back into your room to look at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost one in the morning.” He pulled a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Couldn't really sleep. I don’t sleep a lot these days, anyway.” He looked at you gently. “Wanna go on an adventure?” He asked the question simply, but his expression was filled with hope like a little child.

“Are you crazy? It’s in the middle of the night, and everyone’s asleep.” Your eyes widened as you continued to explain.

“I’ll have you home before daylight. You have my word. They won’t even know you were gone.” He stood in the yard, his eyebrows raised, prepared to hang on your every word. You stood there for a long conflicted moment, considering the consequence versus the reward of going out with Elvis.

“There’s bells on the doors,” You said.

“Well, you’ve got an exit right in front of you silly,” He chuckled. You looked down at the window sill.

“You have me hopping out of windows for you in the middle of the night–” you muttered.

“Everybody’s already labeling me a delinquent, might as well fit the bill, hm? We could be the modern Bonnie and Clyde while we ravage local stores and frighten little children.” He was obviously enthused at his response. You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to wipe away the smirk that betrayed your resolve.

“Let me get dressed.” You closed the curtains and got dressed in a simple outfit–A plum colored circle skirt that flowed just past your knees, paired with a tucked in cotton button down that was adorned with a spray of flowers. You’d forgo the pantyhose and hope that Elvis wouldn’t take notice of the unladylike faux pas.Your hands worked feverishly to get clothes on your body, tucking in and smoothing down your shirt and your skirt, spinning to look at yourself in the mirror, pulling your hair behind your ears, tucking away the pesky flyaways that persisted. After a record-breaking sprint, you turned back to the window. “Okay, I’m ready,” you said, placing your hands on the windowsill to throw your leg out of the window. Luckily, your house was a single story, so you wouldn’t have to figure out how to scale your way down.

Elvis held a hand out to you to grasp and you took it as you straddled the window sill. “I got you,” he said, helping you keep yourself upright as you swung your other leg out of the window. When you were finally out, you turned to close the window, not realizing that your skirt had gotten caught on a sharp piece of window trim jutting from the exterior of the house. Elvis bent and grabbed hold of the piece, trying his best to untangle it. “I’m sorry darlin’, but I’ve got to rip it off.” You nodded softly and watched him yank the fabric from the window, hearing a distinct ripping sound when he released you from it. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s old.” You couldn’t have cared less about the skirt; in fact, it held more value now that it was ripped than even before—only that you’d remember this moment when you saw the torn fabric.

“Ready to go cause some trouble?” He asked, extending his hand back out to you. He flashed his brightest smile and you couldn’t help but extend the same expression back to him. You nodded and took his hand, practically prancing across your yard to his car.

End of Part 4.

Taglist: @mamaspresley @anestesia-mxm @misspygmypie @austin-butlers-gf @cozacorner @she-is-juniper @shimmeringlights44 @mariposa-mila @austinelvisimagines @sagesolsticewrites @guns-n-queen @anangelwhodidntfall @harley-thurd @bamitzzsam @annakatf @suitrry @eurusthewanderer @domaniquessidehoe @spencer-is-amazing @kittenlittle24 @softmullet @cb97slut @hunterthecharmer @mirandastuckinthe80s @puppykitt @stargiirl27 @maddieks-blog @kyddosebastian @girlnairb @its-funny-til-its-not @im-just-star-dust @bobbykennedyfan @venus-haze @groovydeputyfestivalkid @hockeyfootballhoe @21bruhs @thebeatlesbitch @dangerdolll @coffee-addict21 @kingelviscreole @adoreyouusugar @slutforblueeyes @theinvisiblecapricorn @ghxst-heart @yagirlalexx @sapph1re @madzandflowerz31 @kaycinema @theloveoftoms @annamarie16 @omgellenlouise @re3kin @feverdawg @cutie-ghost

#e!austin butler x plus! reader #austin butler series #Austin butler #Elvis #Austin butler Elvis #Austin Butler fanfic #Austin Butler fic #Elvis fic #Elvis fanfic

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