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elvisabutler · 2 years

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happy we'll be beyond the sea

summary: elvis is a selkie, just like his mama was. colonel parker has been in charge of keeping his skin safe since his mama died. the colonel uses it to have elvis do whatever he wants him to do. until one day the colonel isn't the one who has the skin. someone else is. fandom: elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley | austin butler pairing: elvis x reader, past elvis x priscilla rating: m for a brief smut at the end. word count: 10, 727. i don't want to talk about it. i don't wanna talk about it. warnings: death mentions. mentions of elvis's poor health. mentions of seal skin. mentions of turning into a seal. really a lot of mentions of skin, because regrettably that is the basis of a selkie myth a lot of the time. me playing fast and loose with selkie myth to suit my own needs. elvis being a himbo. threatened violence toward the reader. overall bad things involving the international. gambling. period typical-ish misogyny implied. fingering. implied/fade to black p in v sex. author's note: so, welcome to the first of four creature au's i'm writing in october in addition to kinktober. i started off with selkie elvis because the international being a trap/tomb/prison is bookended with the vampire fic i'm ending the month on. i am not expecting a lot of y'all to read this because selkie aus are not massive in fandom but i've been a part of enough that have had them that i wanted to make one with elvis. you do not have to picture austin!elvis as i left it vaguely mismash-y between him and actual elvis. but i wanted to write this so i did. next week is mermaid austin, third week is gonna be incubus elvis and then halloween is vampire elvis. enjoy! also the jumpsuit i mention is a real jumpsuit that yes has a green/blue beaded version and a red beaded version, look up the spanish flower jumpsuit if you're curious about it. the green one has a scarf. i am now a sucker for elvis giving his woman a scarf. and this is set late '73/early '74-ish. fudging dates just a little to make things work for me. also do not come at me for inaccuracies with the myth, i have enough celtic blood running through my veins that i can do whatever i so desire with the myth, thank you very much. also if you want mood music, a lot of the time i listened to the navajo version of beyond the sea it's very relaxing. no pressure but i discovered it while writing this and i love it a lot.

"I wanna give you something, 'Cilla. Something that's gonna prove to you I won't stray now that we're together." Elvis says more excited than Priscilla's ever seen him.

"Elvis- we've been together-" And you've still fooled around but she ignores it because short of Ann-Margret no one else really has held a candle to her. "What's this gift you want to give me that's so important?"

"My skin." He answers without missing a beat before his eyes widen and he realizes what he said. "My seal skin, satnin."

"Your seal skin." She repeats slowly the words sinking in. He's told her about how he isn't human on more than one occasion, warned her that there's a possibility any kids they have might be that way but to hear him talk about a skin she's never seen is strange. "It's an actual-"

"Skin. Looks like a pelt- you- darlin' you haven't seen me as a seal, mama always said I was majestic. Like ink from one of those squids or whatever." Elvis is practically bouncing on his feet, looking every bit of an excited boy and not a man over thirty. "You're my wife, it's supposed to be yours. My daddy used to keep mama's until she- died, and she kept mine while I was on the road back in the day. She thought I was gonna lose it. I-I gave it to the Colonel after she died, told him he had to keep it real safe for me, that if I ever got married- if he wanted me to be that All-American man, I needed that skin in one piece."

"To give to me." She finishes his thought, knowing that's exactly where it was going. She's- it's not that she isn't flattered, she is, but Elvis had told her those myths so long ago that she figures just maybe she might need a refresher. "Why?"

"Sailors and fisherman, they used to bind selkie women to them by stealing their skin when they took it off." He starts, rubbing at his lower lip. "Made them be their wives even if they hated it. But sometimes if they got lucky they could give their skin to the person they loved to protect it and protect them. I won't stray if you got it, baby. Wouldn't be able to."

"At all." That sounds like a dream come true, actually, an Elvis Presley completely faithful to her. "The Colonel's going to give it back to you?"

"He's- Of course he is, Cilla why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's a- he reminds me of those fisherman you talked about just now."

"Nah, he- he knows I've been waiting to give it to you. Or whoever I got married if it wasn't you. Wouldn't dream of not letting me have it back. Ain't like I won't work for him without it."

"If- Alright, baby, if you say so, I'll- I'd love to have your seal skin. Your selkie skin? Kind of want to know what it feels like now."

Hawai‘i is never really a breeding ground for his type. Something about the water being too hot and the climate being too hot for his kind to thrive. But Elvis- Elvis finds that it’s one of the few places he feels at home, one of the few places he feels safe to be himself, to swim in his own skin. Maybe that’s why the Colonel had chosen there to make it so he was fully trapped, fully under his control. His mama had always told him to watch over it like a hawk because that’s- not watching for someone stealing it had gotten her into trouble even if it had all worked out in the end with his daddy and her. They might not have been in love maybe- Elvis doesn't like wondering- but they loved each other through his daddy being in jail and up until his mama passed. He hadn't minded the Colonel keeping his skin safe, after all he was just another father figure and Elvis figured he could trust him. In hindsight maybe that was a mistake.

Honestly Elvis has lost track of the last time he's actually seen his skin. Maybe it was that ill fated Hawai‘i trip when he was gonna show Priscilla how he looked as a seal, maybe it was the glimpses that the Colonel lets him see every so often to remind him that he was under his thumb, under his control because I've got your skin, my boy. He is a grown ass man who has to ask to go places that aren't just Vegas or the tons of cities he goes to on tour, sure he can go home, but he can't go to Hawai‘i without a fight and he can't try and go overseas. He can't just have a bit of time to escape.

Elvis can tell something's going on, that something's going very wrong with his body. His mama always told him that genetically he was predisposed to quite a number of things but being a selkie was supposed to help that help keep some of them a bay for the most part. But that was the tricky part though he hasn't been in selkie form for God knows how many years at this point. His body can't keep up he can tell at the rate he's going he's not entirely sure he's going to make fifty, the fact that he's made it to as close to forty as he has is feat in and of itself.

The midnight show was a little more draining today than it has been in a while and Elvis swears getting up off the floor feels like moving through a patch of quicksand. Jerry's the first one of the Mafia to notice, rushing to his friend's assistance.

"You good, E?" He asks as Elvis leans against him breathing a little heavier than he should five minutes after the show has ended.

Elvis contemplates lying before shaking his head. Jerry knows him better than anyone other than maybe George or Billy and he knows the werewolf would call him on his lying bullshit.

"Tired." A sigh escapes his lips as he says that before he licks his lips. "Should've swam earlier. Might've helped."

Jerry frowns noting how Elvis is practically dead weight against him and shifts his position to gain more of a hold on him, making sure the other man doesn't fall over or look completely like he's out of it. "Tomorrow morning, man. We'll clear out the pool for all of us, make a morning of it, you know the Colonel won't be up till 1 after his gambling binge tonight."

The response he gets back is a slight snore as for once in a blue moon Elvis fell asleep without needing to take something to make it happen. Jerry thanked God he had his strength otherwise dragging his friend to the penthouse would have been a feat he couldn't have easily accomplished. The band, the Sweet Inspirations and the Imperials are all staring at him as they pack up and Cissy pipes up.

"He alright?" She sounds worried and Jerry doesn't even blame her.

He shrugs as he starts always away. "Yeah, just needs some rest, all of you should get some rest, we're gonna try and spend some time at the pool if some of you wanna join."

Jerry knows he should see if anyone is saying they'll want to join but he knows he needs to get Elvis to the room in one piece so he focuses on that instead. It takes longer than normal, takes longer than it would if he wasn't half dragging Elvis but eventually they arrive in one piece as Jerry lightly slaps Elvis' cheeks to get him to wake up and shower. He stays in the room until Elvis pops back up still looking exhausted and flops onto the bed, his snores filling the room as Jerry leaves.

The next morning Elvis awakes with a start, wondering where he is until he sees a note from Jerry and a bagel. It used to be a rare occurrence that he felt so exhausted after a show that his body gave out, normally Dr. Nic had to pull something from his bag of tricks to knock him out but apparently last night was one of those nights that seem to becoming his monthly norm. Elvis stretches out on the bed, joints cracking as he gets up, grabbing the bagel and his robe before going to the window to look out st the sky. It's 10AM and Elvis sees the hustle and bustle down below by the pool, remembering how in his exhaustion he mentioned going for a swim. He still think he should have done it last night but acknowledges that maybe he was in a worse state than he believed he was so Jerry probably made the right call. Right now, though? Right now he finds that all he wants to do is to hop into that pool and shed all the stress he feels in his shoulders and chest and just float.

A quick call to the concierge to call everyone else's room and one fully eaten bagel later and Elvis is leaving the building, making his way to the pool. It's a small thing, nothing like the wide oceans of Hawai‘i but it'll do in the pinch he's in right now. It's just him for right now after everyone else had been cleared out, which reminded him he had to give all those guests something nice, he didn't- they didn't ask to be pushed out of their well earned pool time by him. By the time Jerry arrives with that sounds like George, maybe Joe and what he think might be Lamar, Elvis is already well into his swimming, laying flat on his back in the pool. His body feels stronger in the water, even if the smell of chlorine has his nose scrunching up. The calm is broken by a cannonball by his younger cousin and Elvis finds himself choking on the water as his mouth fills with it at the sudden jolt.

"Goddammit Billy!" He shouts once he's actually above the water and swimming over to him, splashing a bit of water at the man. "Give a man a warning, half drowned me over there."

Billy laughs as Elvis exits the pool in a bit of a huff. "You can't drown and we all know it!"

Elvis rolls his eyes as he grabs the towel on his chair and is about to sit down when he sees a woman he doesn't recognize walking to the pool area. His eyes don't leave her form as she walks around like she owns the place. He knows she doesn't, even if the management changed from Kohn. He knows that between the boys and the hotel, no one should be coming down here unless him or one of the Mafia asked for them to come, but from the look on everyone else's faces they're as confused as he is. This won't do, no, he might have felt bad about kicking everyone out, but he's not gonna feel bad about potentially kicking this woman out. Who did she think she was?

"You know this is a private party!" He shouts, making sure he has her attention before bothering to walk over to her.

For her part, the woman has the decency to look over at him and shrug before answering with her own shout as she unwraps her robe. "I don't see a sign, Mr. Presley! So, I think I'm going to go swimming!"

Elvis's eyes narrow before he shakes his head, walking over to her in large strides, taking advantage of every bit of his height. It only takes him a minute to reach the end of the pool she's at and when he does, he just looks at her as he stands between her and the pool. "Not without my permission you're not."

There's something about her, something about her air or in the air between them that makes his hair stand on end. It makes him think about the first time he met Priscilla or the first time he met Ann Margret or the stories his mama told him about the first time she met his daddy. Almost like he was supposed to meet her for some reason, for a good reason, not the shudder that had erupted from him when he met the Colonel for the first time. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.

Your eyes drift up and down his form, taking in wet body, noting the chest hair, the muscles and how he seems large, but not necessarily in a way that's pure fat. Just that all parts of him appeared larger than life. Your mind drifts back to the item you have in your hotel room, hidden to where no one but you can find and you wonder. A hum escapes your lips. "You're not my daddy, Mr. Presley. I don't need yours or any other man's permission to swim in a pool when I'm a paying guest, same as you. And I gamble, something I know you don't usually. Too busy shaking those hips on stage and kissing your audience silly. Someone has to keep this place in business when you're not here. It's mostly me."

"A woman with a gambling problem." He says, tone flat as he moves to touch your shoulder. "Now I definitely know you don't need to be swimmin' unless you ask nicely." He pauses. "You seen my show?"

"I was in the audience for the one where you got a little drunk, Presley." Your hand moves on top of his hand and grabs it to push it away. "I'm not that easily charmed after that."

It's not that Elvis isn't used to women turning down an advance or a touch from him, but coming from you his heart twists a little. Strange since he's just met you but he's thinking it's just from you mentioning that night. He frowns, looking away and off to the side. "Not- ya should come to another. That was a-"

"Special circumstance, Presley?" Not mister, almost like you're trying to test the waters.

"Somethin' like that. Found out some interesting news that night was all. Passed out before the show even." Elvis stops talking for a moment, seeming to realize that he is telling you things he wouldn't dream of telling a stranger all to defend his actions to you. It almost reminds him of how he was around Dixie back in the day. "All I'm sayin' is ya can't be judgin' after one bad show. Come t' tonight's. 8PM or 12AM."

You raise an eyebrow. "That's my prime time to win. Why would I-"

He cuts you off and pushes a stray bit of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long. "I'll make it up to you. 'specially if you don't like it."

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation of his fingers against your cheekbones when he brushes the hair out of your face. You wonder for the briefest of moments if it feels the same way when he trails his fingers down to someone's neck. The question is on your tongue before you shake your head, forcing yourself to keep staring at his eyes in an effort to not back down.

"Are you offering to pay for me to take off tonight?" You ask before you purse your lips. You hadn't meant to make that sound as bad as it did if the laugh from behind you is any indication. Your cheeks heat up and you clench your jaw.

Elvis's eyes flit to your jaw before looking behind you and glaring. The words that come out of his mouth sound more like a booming sort of bark that has you reflexively flinching. "Billy! Keep laughing."

The man named Billy stops and Elvis turns back to you. "I am. Even the hardest working people deserve a night off. You deserve one, and I wanna show you a good time."

"At your show." You finish exhaling slowly as you do. "And if I say no?"

The man in front of you- if you want to call him that- frowns for just a moment before shrugging. "Then you don't swim."

"You're forcing me. Who do you think you are? Because all I see is a has-been who's wasting away in a hotel when last I remember hearing before your drunken ramblings about aliens, you wanted to go to Japan and Germany and everywhere. But I know you're going the second you leave here because you do it every year."

Elvis moves closer to you and looks you up and down. "I'm Elvis Presley, the man you can track like a bloodhound. 'm not forcing you to do anything, just come to the show, let me show you how good it is and you can do whatever ya want."

You huff and push your way past Elvis, tossing your robe onto an open chair and making your way to the deep end of the pool, sliding into it and under the water before you break the surface after you see Elvis standing over where you slid in. "Fine. Now can I swim? Or are you gonna pull me out?"

If his look turns a little heated, seeing you soaking wet in water while he's standing over you, he chooses to believe God would forgive him and that you wouldn't notice. "Have at it. Watch out for the idiots. Billy's fond of playing chicken. Fuckin' sucks at it, though."

Jerry by this point has left the pool himself and is sunning himself in the chair next to where Elvis plops down as you look at the two of them, your lip curling in what might be disgust. That's a new one for him. "She doesn't like you."

Elvis grabs the pair of sunglasses on the table that he knows Jerry brought down for him and spares a glance back at you, marveling at how the water slides down your back. His tongue darts out of his mouth like he wants to lick it off of you. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, you had him acting like a teenage boy with those thoughts and some desire to not immediately act on them. "Yet, Schilling. Yet."

He snorts. "Yet. In your dreams, EP."

You don't want to go, you have been dreading going all day since you climbed out of the pool after your swim. Elvis had tried to talk to you a few times in the pool, only for you to rebuff him with splashes of water and eyerolls. His entourage left the pool area first and you think that means he's going to follow them before you see a shadow blocking the sun from you. You sigh. "Elvis get out of my sunlight."

"What color are you wearing?" He asks not even making a single attempt to move.

"I'm not matching you." A pause, because honestly, you might not be matching him but what's the harm in lying to him about the color any way. "Turquoise."

His lips curl into a smile and despite your frustration at the man you can't help the way you stop breathing for a moment at seeing that look directed toward you. Lord have mercy who gave him the right to look like that and be as much of a pain as he had been that morning. "Turquoise. You'll look a goddamn vision in it. Won't- I'll see you tonight."

"Maybe!" You call out to his retreating form.

As it turns out you hadn't completely lied to Elvis, you were wearing something that had turquoise beads on it it to offset the complete void of black that it was. You thought it was cute and it had brought you a bit of luck at the tables from time to time so you didn't see the harm in it until you found yourself being met at your table by one of the men Elvis surrounded himself with- Jerry, you think his name was- and you saw how his eyebrows raised at your dress and your platform shoes.

"Did- Did EP buy you that?" He asks before shutting his mouth and wincing when he realized what he said.

"No?" You answer, confusion coloring your tone as you narrow your eyes. "Why?"

Jerry can't help the laugh that escapes him as he shakes your head. "You'll- I- I can't tell you, you'll see when the show starts. Get comfortable. E wants you to enjoy tonight, sent me out here to make sure you do."

"I don't need a babysitter." Which was true, but at the same time, the company would prevent other people- people who'd likely want a word with you over their losses from bothering you. "But if you're going to be here, I'll tolerate it. Is my tab on him too?"

"It is." He murmurs as the house lights start to dim.

The second you see Elvis you realize what Jerry had meant. You were matching, your lie had meant that he picked a jumpsuit with turquoise detailing and was black. You want to be horrified but it's strangely flattering knowing that Elvis wanted to have you match somehow, not that he had known you were going to essentially be wearing a dress version of his jumpsuit. You spare a glance at Jerry who is laughing at your gasp. He waits until Elvis is saying something to the audience and staring right at the two of you to whisper something to you.

"Don't know what it is about you, but I haven't seen him this excited for a while. Not telling you to give him a chance or make it easy for him, but hear him out. He's- he's been through some stuff and it's getting to him."

Once again your mind drifts to what Parker had been forced to give you when he lost and the myths you've heard offhandedly from plenty of drunks. You wonder if that has something to do with it. that had to be it, you weren't the kind he went for anyway. Even if you think you'd go for him just for the hell of it. You sigh.

"This is a one time thing, Mr. Schilling. I can't be coming here night after night. I'm just as busy as him."

Jerry hums as he sees the house lights start to light back up and Elvis launches into what you swear is an actually entertaining routine about wanting to see the audience. You're almost not paying attention to who he's pointing out until he mentions your name and you wince at the bright light on your face.

"Sorry 'bout that, darlin'. Forgot to give you warning. But look at her, isn't she a beauty, didn't realize we were gonna be matching. Thought you were wearing turquoise, baby!" He jokes as the audience laughs with him.

Your embarrassment with the situation has your shoulders tensing up and you want to not answer, you want to run but you're an adult and you know very well that there's enough people in here who you play with that if they see you blink in this situation they'll never take you seriously again. So you don't blink.

"So did I! Left it in Memphis?" You joke, smiling your most charming smile as you do a twirl so everyone can really see you do look like you're his matching girl.

"Hawai‘i!" He answers back before motioning for you to come up the stage. "Let her by, everyone! Gotta give her something to cover up that gorgeous neck."

You look confused for a moment before you make your way up to the stage. This entire thing was getting way too weird for your tastes, you had just met Elvis and here he was trying to make the audience be charmed by you like he planned on you being by his side for a while. What did he think that you were gonna join his little Memphis Mafia as the resident gambling woman? A few members of the audience were still a little too close and you found yourself pushing at least two of the women away when they tried to grab at your dress like they were going to steal it right off your body.

Elvis is looking at you from the stage and when he sees the women try and pull off your dress he almost hops off of it to defend you and protect you. Strange, but at this point he's beginning to realize everything about you and his reactions to you is a little strange.

When you finally reach the stage, he takes off his scarf, it's sweaty and he knows it is but somehow knowing you'll smell like him, knowing people will see his scarf and know that you're off limits. How off limits exactly he doesn't know. All he knows is he wants to see you with something of him wrapped up around your neck. His eyes flit to your neck as soon as you take it from him, your fingers brushing his, causing his body to flush more than it already was from the exertion of the show. If the brush of his fingers illicit the same reaction in you it doesn't show beyond a brief inhale. You noticed how his eyes flit to your neck though and despite the sweatiness you end up tying the scarf almost immediately around your neck perhaps a little tighter than you should, but you didn't trust the audience members to not try and pull it off you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lip when he notices how tight you tied it before he chuckles. "Y/N, everyone! Ain't she a good sport. Go on back to your seat, doll!"

You didn't even wait for his permission, your backside already turned to him, your dress swaying with your hips as you slid in between everyone. No one cares what you have to say but you can't resist the response. "Not your doll, E!" Not Elvis, not Presley, not even EP, just E.

If the rest of his show seemed like he had the energy of two men- well, you chose not to notice it. You do have to give Elvis credit, though, he wasn't wrong about the night you had seen before not being his best work. This was something else, he commanded a room the way you commanded a table. It has you clenching your thighs together and has your lips twisting into a frown when you realize it. Jerry doesn't say anything about how you keep shifting in your seat except for the occasional sniffle and small huffs that leave his lips. By the time the show is done, you're already standing up, ready to leave when Jerry grabs your arm.

"You should come backstage." He says, motioning to the curtain. "I know he's going to want to see you after that."

Your hand moves on top of his and you pull it off as you shake your head. "If Elvis wants to see me, he can come find me. I'm sure the hotel staff would let him know my room number. Now if you excuse me, Mr. Schilling, I still a few more hours to enjoy my night. Do me a favor and tell him that he might be right, I shouldn't have judged him off that show."

Jerry lets you walk away even though he knows Elvis is going to hate it because this is something else. The whole thing is strange, you smelt faintly like Elvis before he put the scarf on you and yet- he was going to get to the bottom of this eventually but in the meantime maybe it wouldn't hurt to make Elvis work for you.

Two weeks later and you're beginning to think Elvis has forgotten about you. Sure, he gave you the scarf and seemed bound and determined to get you to like him but he hadn't found you yet. His manager had on more than one occasion, trying to win back the skin, but the joy was that Colonel Parker absolutely did not know when to quit when it came to wins. He had won it several times over only to lose it again that same night. It'd be tragic if you didn't find it hilarious to watch.

It's about 10AM when you hear a knock on your door. Strange, but not entirely unheard of, it might have been room service for all you knew. What greeted you had you stopping in your tracks.

Elvis looks good- better than he had two weeks ago and you wonder if it's makeup or something like a diet pill or some drug. No one looks that good after looking as bad as you've heard he's been lately. Then again, most of your knowledge had been from tabloids so maybe he wasn't that bad off. Your eyes drift down his form, taking in the suit with no undershirt, the belt with a buckle bigger than your whole hand and his boots. When your eyes drift back to his face he tries to blow his bangs out of his face before he grins. "You are a hard woman to find. You pay off the front desk staff? Because goddamn they wouldn't tell me a thing."

Your mouth opens and closes in quick succession before you finally squeak out an answer. "Nope. You're- You've been looking for me?"

"Every morning." He answers honestly, looking at your unmade bed and back at you. "Am I interrupting something?"

You turn to figure out what he was looking at before your eyes widen and you bite back a laugh. "Are you asking if I have company?"

He has the decency to look a little guilty before he nods. "I am. From that giggle though, I'm thinking you don't."

You nod back and fully start to laugh. "Unlike some people, I'm not known for sleeping with strangers."

Elvis purses his lips and shakes his head. "Lord help me, I don't know why- you are-" He takes a moment to breathe and he swears he smells the sea when he feels the breeze from your open window waft air out to the hallway. Impossible because you're both in Vegas but he knows that smell. It smells like- it smells like his skin used to. "What about talking to 'em. 'specially since you've got my scarf."

Your eyes flit to your nightstand where the scarf is and you pray to every deity he hasn't seen it. You shouldn't tell him yes, you should just let him have his scarf back and be done with it but you're thinking that's still not going to solve the problem so you shrug.

"By the pool, E?" A neutral spot, and one you figure you both feel comfortable being by.

"Already got a party going 'till one down there. It's a date." He turns to leave before he looks back at you. "I don't know if that's a candle or what but- your room smells like the sea. I like it."

Your eyes widen momentarily before you stutter out a thank you and shut your door before running to the closet. The skin is still there, still looks healthy- honestly looks healthier than it was when you first got it and you jump back like you've been burned. You were no expert on any of this but this- this was weird. Still, you had to grab your swimsuit and head downstairs. After all, he wanted to pretend this was a date and you hated being late for those.

As it turns out, Elvis wasn't bad. You learn this after the first morning in between laps around the pool and interruptions from various people. You learn the real basics of him that day. But as the weeks go on and turn into months you learn about his charitable works, about how his gaudy house was actually bought for his mother and on one memorable day how he hates every single one of his films including your favorite.

"Viva Las Vegas! Oh come off it-" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "That- Love Ann Margret."

"Yeah, everyone knows you did. But I really liked it. Especially that scene when she let you fall into the pool." You grin, grabbing some water with your hand and splashing it at Elvis's face.

"Oh, you just like me all wet, I see how it is, darlin', that's really why you chose the pool wasn't it." He asks, leaning over like he's about to kiss you.

You inhale sharply. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

His hand moves to untie the scarf you wear out of habit at this point, his scarf you wear out of habit at this point and lets his fingers trace your neck when he does. "Not even if I ask real nicely, mama?"

It occurs to you that if you didn't have his skin, if you didn't know that you had his skin this would be easier. You'd feel less like you're taking advantage of him, but you feel that way, you know the basic myth, you know this has to be tied to it somehow. Still, his hand is touching your neck and you know your pupils have to be dilating by now and- your chest feels like it's in a vice grip before you manage to guip and speak. "Not even then."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks as his hand moves up to your cheek and you swear you stop breathing before you find yourself nodding against your better judgment.

Elvis's lips are soft and that surprises you for reasons you don't quite understand. They dominate the kiss and you don't know if it's because Elvis is the more dominant one- barely- out of the two of you or if it's because they're just larger than yours. You mean for it to stay chaste, you do, but then you can feel his tongue pressing against your lips and you open your mouth to let him in, your tongue dancing with his own. On instinct, you nip at it, something you've always done with partners and earn a groan from him. You're both on the edge of the pool and everyone else is there but without even missing a beat, Elvis moves to climb on top of you, half shielding you from everyone's eyes but also allowing himself the pleasure of pressing against you.

"Elvis-" You breathe out when he pulls away trying to steady his breathing. "We're- by the pool, everyone's here. I'm pretty sure they're staring."

He shakes his head. "They've seen worse. I've seen them do worse, just- let me kiss you, darlin', please. It feels- you feel like home. Feel like I did back when I-"

He trails off and you find that it worries you because you feel him tense above you. "Back when you what?"

Back when he had his skin? He's- his manager has had his skin, he had been married not that long ago, what does he even mean by that. You needed to- he needed to have the skin back if it was causing him to feel like this with you for no reason.

"I can't- I won't tell you right now. After the show tonight, darlin'. I'll tell you after the show if you wanna know still." He shakes his head and starts to pull away. "I. It's getting close to one. Darlin' do you have a dress like that one you wore to my first show. That black one."

"I have it with red stones? Won it off a businessman. Why?" You're fully confused now, wanting to ask what's going on and why Elvis is seeming skittish now when he had just been wanting to kiss you. Had he realized what was going on? Or what might be going on?

His lips curl into a smile. "It was like you were tailor made for me. It's the same for me. I was planning on wearing the one with my red stones. Come to the show, I'll give you my scarf before it. I just need my- I need you to match me."

"Kiss me some more and I will." You give him a small smile when you speak, grabbing at his cheek and watching him nuzzle into it not unlike the seal you know he is inside.

"Okay." He whispers leaning back down and closing the distance between you.

The Colonel sees you backstage before Elvis does and gives you a once over before grabbing your arm and attempting to move you to where no one can see the two of you before Jerry actually catches him.

"Let her go." Those three words have the Colonel dropping your arm like you scalded him before he glares at Jerry and leaves, leaving you to rub at your arm. You open your mouth to explain before Jerry waves you off.

"I know how bad his gambling gets. None of my business how much you took him for as long as- maybe you can find a way for it to get back into EP's pocket."

It really should be his business is what you want to tell him before Elvis spots you, practically running over and picking you up in a hug before twirling both of you until he sets you back down. "You came and you match me, darlin'. Don't know if I like you more in the black and blue or this one." His hands move to his neck, pulling off his scarf and tying it around your neck loosely. His breathing quickens just a hair seeing his scarf around your neck before he shakes his head. "You look perfect."

It's hard to make you feel bashful but in that moment you can't help the way you look down and kick at the floor like a schoolgirl. "Could say the same for you."

"Aw- no need to flatter me, you've already got me-" He stops himself and leans a little closer to murmur in your ear. "I'll meet you in your room after the show. Shower, maybe get a little dirty with you? Continue what we were doing at the pool?"

Your only answer is a hum and a smirk and Elvis knows that's a yes. Knows by now that you doing that is how you say yes when you don't want to admit it. He takes a deep breath and realizes he smells the scent of sea water once again. It's in your clothes this time, it's in the dress. He wants to ask you what the deal is- why your dress smells like sea water and like home, but Jerry's pulling him away and you're waving at him with a blown kiss. It's silly but he makes a move to catch it and you laugh.

The show is phenomenal as always and while you notice Elvis is distracted by something- someone maybe, he still puts on the show you've begun to expect. By now you've seen or heard Elvis talk about the end of his show that you know how it goes so you let yourself slide out the back of the showroom and make your way to your room, humming "Can't Help Fallin' In Love" to yourself as you do. You know you need to tell him, know that he deserves to know that you're the new owner of his skin, that you've been trying to figure out how to give it to him, but his promise of something more tonight has you thinking it can wait until tomorrow morning before your daily poolside chat. It feels like a lifetime before Elvis arrives at your room and in that time you've undressed, leaving yourself with nothing but your underwear and dark blue robe with your initials printed on the pockets and on the lapels. Elvis knocks once, twice, three times before you answer the door, pulling him in before kissing him softly.

"Shower." You say simply.

As soon as the door shuts Elvis is overcome with the overpowering scent of seawater that he keeps smelling near you and he stops as he heads to the bathroom to make sure he doesn't see any candles before shaking his head. He's got to be losing it. This- it's almost like how the Colonel's room used to smell with his skin hidden in it. But that was impossible, you couldn't have his skin. His shower doesn't take long, his anxiousness and desire to talk to you forcing him to rush through it. When he comes out of the bathroom he finds you lounging on your bed, looking a bit tired. He considers the merits of not telling you, debates if you're coherent enough to hear what he has to say before he realizes that no- he needs to tell you. If he wants to move forward with you- you need to know.

He slides next to you in the bed and leans on his arm to face you. "I'm a selkie." He pauses, realizing that he offered no preamble to go with that. "It's-"

You tense next to him the second you hear the words come out of his mouth and turn your body to face his, cutting him off with a finger to his lips. "I know what it is. Human who can turn into a seal with a skin. Or vice versa, I don't know which is the default."

"How do you- how do you know what a selkie is?" His voice wobbles a little, like he's terrified to hear your answer.

A breath leaves your body in a rush before you bite your lip as if you're thinking, plotting really and Elvis face is morphing into one of genuine panic and worry. "Baby, why do you know what a selkie is? How?"

"I've played with a lot of men who know the legends." You answer in a rush, biting your lip once more. "I- They've told me about them. Your manager told me about it too. Elvis- what does it matter- I know I don't mind it's fine-"

He cuts you off, his eyes flashing and the blue you swear turning into a stormy sea. "Parker- that toad- where is it? You don't feel like home because you're supposed to be with me, you don't smell like the sea because you might be a great seal wife. You- Where is it?"

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Elvis shouts practically jumping off the bed before starting to go through your drawers, tossing your clothes as he does. "Where is my goddamn skin, woman?! I will- Just tell me where my skin is, darlin' I don't want to hurt you but I need- I haven't had my skin for a decade and you've had it for a month after winning it off the man who was supposed to protect it. Give me back my skin!"

You're sure that your neighbors think you're a murderer with how loud Elvis is shouting about his skin but you don't care, more preoccupied with making sure Elvis doesn't hurt you or wreck your room too much in his search. You get it- you get how this must be horrifying and frustrating but he's actively scaring you with how he looks, how you feel he's every bit of a deadly seal ready to kill you for keeping him away from what's rightfully his.

"Closet." You whisper before watching him storm to it. You don't dare get up from the bed and so you only hear his victorious shout and hear the somewhat anguished sobs coming from inside your closet for a few minutes until you see him come out holding the almost pure black pelt with only a few white spots. He doesn't bother to look at you as he heads to the door, still looking as angry as he did when he first walked into the closet.

"Keep the scarves. It's gonna be as close as you ever get to touching my skin ever again." He spits out before opening your door and slamming it hard enough the picture frames on the wall rattle.

You lock the door and sink to the floor and cry.

A month goes by and Elvis had left the building, an emergency trip back home everyone had said until the pictures of him in Hawai‘i prove that to be false. You've been on a losing streak and you blame it on Elvis. On his scarves, on his kisses on the knowledge that he had charmed you only to leave you because you didn't tell him that you had his skin. It's on one of your losing streak nights that you hear whispers about Elvis having a show tonight and you can't help the laugh that leaves you at hearing that. You can't help the way it makes your heart twist inside your chest and makes you want to crawl into a hole.

You excuse yourself from that table, realizing you've lost enough tonight and realizing that you'd like a drink. You're not paying attention to where you're going and you find yourself bumping into a body you've become relatively accustomed to.

"Y/N." He breathes out once he steadies you and takes a good look at you. His eyes drift over your form, noting how your hair is unkempt and you look almost like- well like he did when you first met him. Maybe- no.

"Elvis." You murmur, leaning against him, taking in his scent, that sea scent that had left your room two weeks ago and lead to crying jag that left you in bed for two days. As much as it felt like home to Elvis- it called to you in what was perhaps a similar way. "You look healthy. Good. The- Your skin helped you. That's good."

His eyes narrow, realizing you're smelling him. If he was honest with himself, and he rarely is, he hasn't stopped thinking about you while he was in Hawai‘i. Even without his skin you felt like the sort of woman he could be with and who could keep up with him. It's not like he hasn't loved Priscilla and Ann Margret and anyone else he's been with but you were different. You caught him off guard and you felt like the person he was supposed to entrust with his skin all along. Seeing you like this? Seeing you worse for wear because he left the way he did has his heart twisting in his chest and has a growl against himself brewing. He had hurt you, twisted you into something he didn't like seeing.

"Being around you before-" he left, before he realized that you had what he had dreamed about getting back for over a decade and you took such good care of it. "You helped a little."

Your head moves from his chest as you wave him off. "That was all you. I heard the stories, you'd sleep all day stay awake all night. You were the one at the pool that first day."

He gulps and his hand moves to your back, holding you in a hug, his hand rubbing up and down. He can't help the way his nose buries itself into your hair. You still smell like the sea to him. "Only kept going because that's where you wanted to meet."

A laugh bubbles up from deep inside you and you pull away as you laugh like the idea is the funniest thing known to man. "You can't- You can't say stuff like that, Elvis. I'm- I'm going to go back to my room. You have fun down here. With- it's- you're done with your shows tonight aren't you? Just have fun here then. Win some money off of Parker. Oh, that'd be funny."

Elvis pauses and grabs your arm as you start to walk away. "I'm walking you to there."

You look at him like you want to argue before you see that there isn't room to argue. He's already waving off Jerry and Lamar and Billy so it's just the two of you. The idea of being alone with Elvis is not necessarily something you want because you don't trust your tongue and brain to listen to you about how you don't want to tell him how much you missed him. You feel pathetic about how much you missed him because he doesn't look like he missed you at all. Sure, you two had only really known each other for a month but you knew things about Elvis no one else did and you had told him a few things about yourself that you wouldn't tell someone on your deathbed. Being around him felt right even now, felt comforting even now. Elvis moves his hand from your arm, a good thing because you swear you felt his rings starting to dig into the flesh and moves it to your waist, pulling you against him as he walks both of you steadily to your room. The desire to lean against him is too strong just from the feel of his rings against your waist so you let yourself indulge in it, leaning against him like he's the only thing keeping you from falling. You hear a sharp intake of breath from him before he grips your waist tighter, almost as if he never wants to let you go. What a pipe dream.

Your room door comes into view too quickly for your liking and you almost want to tell him that it's not your room any more but you know he's not an idiot. Some people may think he is, but you know the truth, you know the brain underneath that gorgeous hair. You open your mouth to speak first before Elvis turns to face you, his hands moving to push back your hair on both sides.

"Ya look like shit, doll." A simple comment but one that has you shaking your head and biting your lip before looking down. He's not admonishing you but it certainly feels that way.

"No one to impress here for the past month." You answer, knowing fully well he can connect the dots. "And when I lose I don't- treat myself kindly, I told you that the day Billy convinced Lamar to toss you in the pool while he tossed me in."

His lips quirk into a smile at the memory before he shakes his head, frowning. "You- I did a lot of thinking while I was gone."

A hum as you make a move to unlock the door so you're not having what feels like might be a very important conversation in the hallway. It opens easier than you think and you motion for Elvis to go in as you respond with an attempt at a joke. "Don't do that, you might hurt yourself."

The second you're both inside the room, Elvis shuts the door with his foot and leans against it, putting just a little bit of distance between both of you. "Wouldn't be the first time." He takes a few deep breaths, noting that your room doesn't smell like the sea breeze, but it still feels like home- still feels like he's supposed to be there. "But I-I- I came to the realization about somethin'."

Your eyebrow quirks up and you tilt your head questioning what he means by that without saying a word. He takes that as permission to continue.

"I've had that skin my whole life. I've seen- my mama shouldn't have been married to my daddy. Maybe they loved each other but it- it was complicated. I didn't think about it beyond protecting her and all but she always told me to make sure whoever had my skin knew to protect it. Told me to make sure that I was- that I trusted the person I was going to let have that power over me. Made the mistake of giving it to the Colonel, but then you- you won it from him. Jerry told me that- told me how you won it and how you kept winning it back when he tried to get it back and- baby, I don't think you know how much that means to me. How much-" He pauses, taking a breath or several to collect himself. "Priscilla couldn't get it from him, everyone couldn't get it from him and we tried, oh God did we try and I thought this is it, I'm gonna die because I'll be seperated from my skin for so long. I'll waste away because that toad won't let me go. I resigned myself to it."

Your throat tightens as you try and swallow your saliva, and you feel your nose starting to run and your eyes start to burn but you have to say something. "But then I- I got the skin."

He nods, his own eyes looking glassy but not because of any drug. "You got my skin. You got it and you hid it because you- I'd have thought you stole it if you gave it to me right after. But you kept it safe and mama, you smelt- You smelt like you rolled in me, Jerry thought I had fucked you the moment you watched that first show you smelt so much like me. I thought Priscilla was home and she was when we were together, I'll admit that right now, I still love the woman and she gave me my little pup of a baby seal. But you- I don't think it was just the fact that you had my skin that made you feel that way. I- Getting to know you without knowing that you were holding something that could tie me to you- somethin' that I've had used against me for so many years- I- I think I'm in love with you. I think you were always supposed to be the one to get it. Supposed t' protect it with your own life."

"No-" You start before he's waving you off and moving up off the door.

"Don't ya be telling me whatever bullshit I know you're about how I'm an idiot, because I know you think I'm one. I'm the selkie here, I'm the one thinking about givin' you back my skin so that when I'm here, when I'm with you I smell a sea breeze and when I touch you- you feel like the warm waters of Hawai‘i against my skin and I know that somehow you'll make sure I live a long and healthy life wherever it is." Elvis closes the distance between the two of you and by this point you're crying, you're crying because none of this makes sense. Elvis Presley doesn't forgive like this- you've heard the horror stories, you've seen how he barely interacts with his manager any more after they used to be thick as thieves. You had to listen to the Colonel talk about how it was supposed to be the Showman and the Snowman but now Elvis doesn't want to be so tied to him after his betrayal.

"I'm- You- Elvis don't play." You choke out, rubbing at your eyes like that's going to hide the fact that the more he speaks the more you feel tears just pouring out of you. "It stopped smelling like the sea two weeks ago and I-"

He pulls you into his arms and you find yourself just taking deep breaths trying to calm yourself. You focus on the feel of his rings gliding against your skin as he rubs your back and shushes you murmuring what feels like sweet nothings in your ear. "I'm here, I'm not- I won't swim away, darlin'. I came back. I'm back. I'm here. Gonna finish up my residency, this last one here and I'm gonna- I'm gonna take you wherever you want. You're gonna protect me and I'm gonna protect you. Gonna spoil you, gonna swim with you."

"Are you giving it back to me?" It's the first thing that comes to your mind when he's murmuring all those things and making you feel like you want to cry even more even as it's strangely comforting to hear. "Are you giving me back your-"

"It's in my room. I'm gonna move you up there, you're gonna tell me the best spot in there for it to be and it'll just be me and you who knows it's there." A pause. "Yeah, baby, I'm givin' you back my skin. I'm- I'm not asking you to marry me or nothin' but you'd make a good seal wife."

That last sentence, that moment of hearing Elvis call you a good seal wife, as dumb as it sounds to anyone else listening has you pulling away just enough that you can kiss at Elvis's neck and up his jaw before you reach his lips. It's a gentle kiss as if you feel like if you do more he really will swim away never to return. You realize you shouldn't have worried when Elvis deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he nips at your lips before pulling away, breathing heavier than he was before, his eyes starting to be taken over by his pupil.

"Can I show you what I wanted t' do with you that night?" He asks, searching your face for any hint of a no. "How I wanted to lay you on your bed, kiss every inch of you and see you moan and bounce on my cock."

You shiver and it's not because of any cold breeze before nodding and whispering your answer with a nuzzle against his chest. "Please. I missed you."

That's all the permission he needed as he picks you up like you're nothing and drops you on the bed, and climbs on top of you, his hands moving to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up slowly over your body and over your head, exposing your silk underwear to him and earning a groan of appreciation.

"Didn't have anyone to dress up for but you're wearing something as soft as me." He says in between kisses down your neck as his fingers move to feel your cunt, noting how just with a few kisses and his presence you're practically soaked. "You missed me that bad. Didn't ever touch you and you're-"

You mewl at his touch, feeling a slight burn at both of his fingers before you move your head to the side and shake it as if you don't want to admit what you're about to say. "I touched myself that afternoon, after the pool. I wanted you so bad that night. Was gonna tell you about the skin the next morning. Thought I was going to lose you for good, E."

His fingers still in you at those last words and you briefly think you've made a mistake before you feel the press of his lips and the press of his tongue against your lips as a reassurance that you didn't. He bites your tongue softly, remembering like he has for the past week how you did it to him and you let out a soft moan as he curls his fingers just so.

"Didn't lose me for good, baby. I'm right here. Gonna be with you for for good if you'll have me." He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers sliding in and out of your core.

"Promise?" You ask as you buck up, feeling Elvis's thumb against your clit, pressing hard against it before rubbing a soft circle.

"Promise." He answers, his head moving down to your neck, until he stops at your chest, peppering kisses across it and moving a cup down just enough to expose your nipple. "You can make noise, mama. Wanna hear you, want everyone to know you're taken, want everyone to know you've claimed me. Trapped the selkie on dry land because he's happy for once."

If there was a response you had, it's overtaken by the groan you let out at the feel of Elvis's tongue against your nipple. The flick of it, the warmth of it drowning out anything other than you and him and your bodies. You hear the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and your body heats up more if it's even possible. You didn't know you could be that wet for anyone and yet here you were feeling as if you're going to leave a puddle on the sheets. He pulls away just enough to blow a puff of air against your nipple as his thumb swipes just so and you find yourself shouting, your vision whiting out for just a moment as you feel his hand grip your hip to steady you. It's- You never come that quickly, a frustration for most of your partners and yourself but you think- no you're almost positive that Elvis has helped you reach an orgasm in no time flat. You'd be embarrassed if the thought didn't feel so hot.

He speaks first. "You came."

You nod slowly, your eyes struggling to focus on Elvis before you trust your tongue enough to form words. "I-You're very good." A pause. "I can go again. I want- that was too short. I want to feel more of you."

Elvis pulls his fingers out of your cunt, his eyes watching how it clenches around nothing as he pulls them out. It is a sight he wants to commit to memory and a sight he wants to spend the rest of his days seeing day in and day out. He doesn't say anything, instead choosing to stick his fingers in his mouth, his tongue sliding across them before he pulls them out and moves to touch your lips with them. "We've got all night, darlin'. Now be a good girl and taste yourself on my fingers, will you?"

Your tongue is out before he even finishes the command.

Later on that night, when you're curled against Elvis, your hand playing with his chest hair and his hand is petting your hair as you both half pay attention to whatever movie is on the television screen you find that being with him feels comfortable, like you've shed your walls or the hardened skin you normally present to everyone. You wonder if that's just because he's that charming or if perhaps there is something supernatural at play.

"You're thinking too much right now. Thought I fucked that out of you tonight." He murmurs against your hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"Sorry, it only works for an hour, then I'm right back at it." You joke softly. "What were you going to tell me that night? About how I felt?"

Elvis stiffens just a tad before he hums and you can hear his head hit the headboard softly. You almost start to tell him he doesn't need to answer before you hear his sigh. "You felt like home. Felt like Tupelo and Graceland and the sea around Hawai‘i all rolled into this package of a woman who accidentally matches my jumpsuits without me buying the damn dress for her. You felt perfect for me."

There's a burning in your eyes you don't want to acknowledge but you can't help the way you sniffle at the comments before you speak. "And now?"

"Didn't change." He starts simply before his hand moves to rub your back and pull you closer to him. "You are perfect for me. We're gonna protect each other. Gonna do what we want when we want it and if they don't like it we'll go somewhere else."

Your lips upturn into a smile at that and you snuggle into Elvis' chest just a bit more. "I'm holding you to that tomorrow morning."

He chuckles and it fills your whole body with a warmth you only associate with a hot cup of tea. "You can hold me to that for the rest of my life, darlin."

"We'll see."