Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Jailhouse Rock - Elvis

A/N: request by @1-800-KISS. Thanks for being patient!!
Vince Everett!Elvis Presley x reader

You never expected to end up in prison. You never expected to have an inmate number tattooed on your arm crudely by another inmate late at night. You never expected to have to stock up on cigarettes just so you could buy yourself some kindness within the prison.

But you also never expected the brakes of your car to give out on the highway, or for your car to bounce back from the wall you crashed into and hit a van that then rolled over another car. You came away with a broken leg and cracked pelvis and 7 men lost their lives. That guilt has never left you. Even though your sentence was manslaughter because it was a far from an intentional crime, the fact was that you were the cause of 7 men's deaths. Their families would never get to hold them or hug them because of you. Maybe it was that reason that made you stay and live out every moment of this sentence. A part of you really believed you deserved it.

Prison life had a strict routine and it became easy to adapt to it. The only day that differed was Sundays. That was when all the inmates from both the female prison and the male prison could choose if they'd like to attend church. You always chose to because the variation from the routine was nice. They would lead all of you to one building in between where you would sing a few hymns, the preacher would remind you of your sins, and you'd return to your cell.

You typically sat towards the back by yourself. You didn't have many friends in prison. The other women respected you and didn't cause you trouble, but the only friend you ever made, the one who gave you that tattoo, got out a few months ago. She was a kind woman, if not a little mentally unwell. Her number was just one off from yours so she offered to tattoo for you as a matching sisterhood type of thing. You were a tattoo artist before, so you agreed. Often times you found yourself absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your forearm. Prisoner #09726718. She was #09826718. So you sat alone in the makeshift chapel as the male prisoners started to file in.

A man sat down next to you roughly. You gave him a strange look, eyeing him and his boldness. He was handsome, with well carved features. His hair was black and slicked back on his head, his frame tall and lean. His lips were plump and curled into a little smile when he noticed you looking at him.

"Can I help you?" He asked with a pointed look. His eyes were very blue.

"No."

"Sure don't seem that way."

"Hmm," was all you said, looking back towards the front as the choir started to get ready.

"I'm Vince."

"Lovely."

"And you are?"

You rolled your eyes, "charmed, I'm sure."

He laughed a little, his tongue coming out to lick his lip. Then he gestured to the small tattoo on your wrist, "should I call you dragon?"

"If you'd like."

The choir started to sing and the prisoners were encouraged to stand and join in. You and Vince stood, you mumbling along the lyrics. To your surprise, Vince's deep voice carried throughout the room and it was amazing. He didn't even seem to notice how talented he was, and if he did he certainly didn't act like it. Vince just sang along with the choir and you closed your eyes to let his voice serenade you.

When the song ended and you opened your eyes, Vince was looking at you with a cocky smile. You knew he knew how good he was now, but you didn't care.

"Y/N. My name is Y/N."

Vince smiled, "it's awful pretty."

Your friendship with Vince started slowly. For one, the two of you only saw each other at Sunday service and time to chat was not exactly easy. But secondly, you found it hard to trust him. He was handsome and charming and exactly everything you needed to avoid. His flirty comments and batted eyelashes could not dissuade you from the fact that he was in prison. But then again, so were you.