i'll give you a cookie if you write something where reader is a budding singer and falls in love with elvis the pelvis and everyone, her family, manager, and even the media, are against their love because it would be terrible for her reputation, since she's the typical "good girl" (the kind who would sing here comes santa wearing a sweater) but then she tells everyone to fuck off and ends up with elvis
Pairing: elvis or austin!elvis x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, swearing
A/N: hope you like!! Sorry if itโs a bit long, loved the idea and couldnโt help myself <3
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โSo, what did you think?โ You asked, after giving your manager a look at a couple new songs youโd written, as your small team was working on producing your first ever full album, so far youโd only release singles and EPs, but with some new traction, you finally had a (barely) big enough audience to support releasing an album.
โHoney, all youโve written about hereโ I mean, how many times can you sing about blue eyes and a deep voice, darlinโ, theyโre all clearly about Elvis.โ
โWell, so what if they are? You always say writing lyrics from personal experience makes them so much more meaningful. Besides, he said heโd help me write some! Those ones wonโt be about him.โ You argued.
โY/N, listen to me, you donโt have personal experience with him, Iโve been in the business a long time, I know he said heโd help ya, but honey, heโs only sayinโ that to be nice. And I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but heโs not lookingโ for love, he doesnโt care. Heโs got money, he can have anything he wants, donโt waste your time on chasinโ him like a helpless teenage girl.โ
โItโs not like that! We talked the other day, I ran into him inโโ
โY/N Iโm not going to argue with you like a child. He doesnโt even know your name, he sure as hell doesnโt know any of your songs and heโs only going to hurt you.โ Your manger raised his voice, it was clear to you the argument wasnโt going anywhere.
โI see. Thank you.โ You stated, leaving the papers with him and leaving the studio, driving to your parents house, as your whole family was going to have dinner together.
โMama, he humiliated me, yelled at me in front of everyone.โ You complained about your manager, whilst helping her with dinner preparations.
โI do want to support you, Y/N, of course, youโre my baby, but my job as your mama is to look out for you, I really donโt think you should be trying your luck with a young man deemed โthe pelvisโ, itโs nasty.โ
You sighed. โMama Iโโ
โAre you still going on about this?โ Your older brother walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. โIโm not gonna have my little sister be seen foolinโ around with a man wearing eyeliner and shakinโ his hips around on tv, pretendinโ itโs entertainment.โ He continued.
โNone of you are listening to me.โ You smacked your hand down on the counter, getting the attention of your family. โI know Iโm not as big as he is, but I still know what itโs like to perform and weโve all heard his interviews, if he believes heโs not doing anything wrong why shouldnโt the rest of us?โ You tried your best to plead your case with your family.
โNo, honey, youโre missing the point.โ Your mama spoke. โWeโre not just thinkinโ about your personal life, your career, itโs just takinโ off, youโre so close to havinโ a big break especially with a new album and being seen with him, itโd ruin that for you.โ
โWhaโ how?โ You asked, jaw dropped at such a claim.
โGod sake, do we gotta spell everything out for you? Heโs filthy, Y/N, an out of control young man with too much money, makinโ a fool of himself on national TV, and youโ you have such a nice, sweet, family style, you know, a real good girl reputation. If that gets ruined, you got nothinโ. Weโre just looking out for you.โ Your brother added.
โYou know what, just forget it, Iโm not that hungry. Iโll see yโall another time, Iโm going home.โ You walked out of your parents home and to your car, driving off, home, to be alone.
How dare they? They got no idea. God, why do they have to say such things.
These thoughts amongst others flew through your head the whole drive home. They hadnโt realised how much theyโd offended you, they didnโt even think what they were saying was so offensive, but the truth was, you and Elvis knew each other better than you let on. You see, youโd run into him, once, at a show, you were the smaller act going on before him, and youโd got to chatting a bit backstage and he was just the kindest, most sincere person youโd ever met. The pair of you kept in contact, often calling each other a couple times a week.
You decided to give Elvis a ring, besides, no one else would understand the whole reputation and media thing quite the way he would. You sat on your bedside, phone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up.
โHey, Elvis, itโs me.โ You spoke.
โOh, hi, honey, how are ya?โ He asked.
โUh, not too good, โf Iโm honest. Mama, papa, my brother, my manager, even folks at the recording studio, everyoneโs puttinโ so much pressure on me to keep this good girl reputation up, and Iโm not saying I wanna be actinโ out or anything, but I just wanna be live my life. They say Iโm tossinโ my career out before itโs even started.โ
โOh, honey, trust me, I know, I know exactly what you mean. Say, you had dinner yet tonight?โ He asked.
โNo, would you like me to come get ya, weโll go get some dinner and talk about this?โ
โOh, Iโd love that, so much. Are you sure?โ You cheered, trying not to sound to excited.
Elvis chuckled at your excitement, โIโm sure, but I gotta warn you, itโs getting hard for me to go anywhere without those cameraโs followinโ me.โ
โIโm sure I can manage.โ You replied.
โAlright, well, put on something nice, Iโll come get ya now.โ Elvis said, his keys jangling in his hands, before hanging up.
Yes. yes yes yes, this is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to be seen with him, you wanted photos, news stories, anything you could get. You didnโt want this for selfish reasons or to show off, you wanted this to happen, you wanted your family and everyone else around you to see it, you wanted whatever โawful reputationโ that was gonna come from you being seen with Elvis, just to get it over and done with, out the way, so you could carry on with your life.
About 20 minutes had passed, youโd been rushing around getting ready, there was a knock on your door, undoubtedly Elvis. You opened up for him, greeting him with a smile and a hug.
โHey, pretty girl, you look nice.โ He gave you a quick peck on the lips.
โHi, Elvis. You look good too.โ You smiled, stepping out your front door, locking it behind you. He offered his arm for you to take, walking you to his car. Elvis loved chatting, he loved talking about everything, anything that possibly crossed his mind. The little devil on your shoulder quietly whispered all the negative stuff people had said about him, while the little angel on your other shoulder told you not to listen to any of that. You really did believe actions spoke louder than words, and the fact that he offered to have dinner with you just so you could chat about what was on your mind was definitely boding well for him.
The pair of you pulled up to one of his favourite restaurants, a few gasps, double takes and camera flashes pointed your direction. You swallowed dryly, having second thoughts, as Elvis walked โround to open your door for you.
โIf it gets too much, say the word and we leave, alright?โ He said quietly, giving you a hand as you stepped out the car. You held his arm as more and more attention drew to him, him smiling for photos and saying hello to as many people as he could, leading you to the restaurant. Luckily, heโd predicted a gathering of people and called the restaurant ahead of time, letting them know heโd be coming, they seated you at a table in the corner, giving you some distance from the observant people around you.
The pair of you chatted, waiting for a waitress to come take your order. You explained to Elvis about how everyone is so concerned youโre about to throw away your just-now-blooming career, but if simply living is going to โdestroy your reputationโ youโre not sure you wanted it. Elvis understood completely, he was a very good person to talk to, he gave you great advice, and told you he was always there for you, something you really needed to hear when it felt like everyone you thought loved you was against every decision you made.
A couple days later, you were back in the studio with your small team of people, working on this album. You sat down, pulling a book out of your bag, wanting to record a newly complete song that Elvis had helped you with, he even said heโd record one with you, if you wanted him to.
โWhat the hell is this?โ Your manager slammed a newspaper down on the table in front of you, making you jump slightly.
โElvis takes rising young artist Y/N /Y/L/N to his favourite restaurant for date night.โ Was the caption of one of many images printed in this newspaper, of you and Elvis the other night.
โโNo. I work too damn hard for you, trying to make you into something, you know. And you deliberately ignore me, like I have no idea what Iโm talking about! If I have to have this conversation again, I donโt think I can work for you anymore.โ Your manager sighed, you figured it probably wasnโt the best idea to bring up a new song Elvis co-wrote.
The next day, you were with your family, sitting outside in your parents backyard together, enjoying the weather, having lunch, until your father joined the scene, bringing to you a similar, angry conversation to the one youโd had the day prior.
โYou went on a date with him? Y/N?โ
Your eyes just about rolled to the back of your skull, so sick of hearing this.
โDo you have any idea what youโve done? Do you know how many girls are going to despise you now? Because of this? Do you?โ Your father continued, soon getting input from the rest of your family, you just sat there taking blow after blow, until you just about had enough.
โYou know what?โ You stood up from your chair, โYou are my family, Iโm supposed to be supported by you, but funnily enough, this entire time, the only person Iโve received any support from is Elvis himself. And yeah, I did go on a date with him, weโre going steady at the minute.โ
You had no idea if you and Elvis were going steady, you knew there was something there, a little tension but, you needed some kind of counter argument.
โYouโre going steady? With Elvis Presley?โ Your sister burst out laughing, making your cheeks heat up.
โYes, Y/S/N, I am. For godโs sake, just fuck off, all of you.โ You left once again, this was becoming a recurring theme every time you tried to have a nice meal with your family.
You knew who you wanted needed to talk to: Elvis, of course.
Just ask him whatโs going on between you, if heโs gonna hurt you, just get it over and done with. You conversed with yourself on the drive back to your own home, tearing up.
You rang him, trying your hardest not to break down in tears.
โHello?โ He picked up.
โElvis, are we going steady? Oh, sorry, I didnโt mean to start with that, Iโ uh, hi.โ You sniffled.
โI donโt know. I donโt know anything.โ
โHoney, Iโm sorry. Did I not make this clear enough? I like you, sweetheart, a lot, I thought we were going steady.โ
โOh, oh thatโs good! I thought so too.โ You cheered through your runny nose and damp cheeks, making him giggle.
โCan I see you?โ He asked.
โWell, yeah, if thatโs alright for you.โ
โYes, yeah, that would be wonderful, Elvis.โ You smiled.
Within 30 minutes Elvis had come over, you brought him inside and upstairs to your bedroom, where you sat and came clean to him, about everything people had been saying about him and how he was no good for you.
โThey all want me away from you, in fact, they didnโt even know weโre as close as we are.โ
โMe? Whaโ Whaโ is it because of the whole pelvis thing, because Iโโ
โElvis, I know youโre not doing anything wrong. Itโs the dumbest thing Iโve ever heard, Elvis the Pelvis, I mean. Itโs just, I donโt know.โ
โTell me, darling, itโs okay, Iโm sure Iโve been told worse.โ He chuckled slightly, encouragingly, but in all truth, his heart was broken to know no one around you wanted you around him.
โThey always go on about theโ the dancing and the money and the girls and, and they think if I got close to youโd hurt me. They say youโre not the type of guy to look for love and Iโd just be wastinโ my time.โ
He gave you a look as if to say โgo on.โ
โThey think youโre a bad influence on young people and that youโll ruin my good girl reputation and, when you offered to help me with music, they said you were all talk and werenโt going to, really.โ
โOh, sweetheart, no, Iโ the press, fifty percent of whatโs written about me is lies and the other fifty is half-truths. The girlsโ I donโt have any, well, except you. And, and I mean sure, I wโnt lookinโ for love but that donโt mean I didnโt find it. And I do mean it, Iโd love to help you in any way I can.โ
You just gulped shallowly, not knowing what to say.
โIโm sorry for putting you through this, I know how hard it is when it feels like everyoneโs against you.โ Elvis picked up your hands, holding them in his as he spoke.
โItโs not your fault, honestly, I just want to be with you.โ You fiddled with his rings, dragging them up and down his fingers as you spoke.
He smiled, watching you play with his fingers, โI want that too.โ
โGood, I told my family to fuck off because of you.โ You laughed, weakly.
โAinโt doinโ me any favours, are ya?โ He stood up, making his way over to your turntable, picking a record from your collection and putting it on. He turned around, offering a hand to you, inviting you to dance with him. You wished the people around you could see this side of him, not the picture people painted of him, and how much of a gentleman he really was.
โBy the way, I think my manager is going to drop me.โ You laughed, making him stop in his tracks.
