Sweet Babydoll
Being Elvis' Innocent Little Bimbo Hollywood Girlfriend Headcanons
Elvis x Innocent!Reader - REQUESTED
Request: "I was wondering if you could write some headcanons on what its like just in general being elvis' girlfriend specifically when he's filming in hollywood in the 60's? preferably a bimbo-type girlfriend you know?"
Warnings: Lots of fluff, mentioned arguing, very sweet!
Original post Of All Gifs Used
Meeting
The first time you'd met Elvis was on the set of one of his films. You were the producer's daughter, given the princess treatment that had been fed to you with a silver spoon since you were born. You had your own little (pink) chair, and your own (pink) dressing room. Unfortunately, the set designers hated you, because your father would let you wander around the set and mess with the props.
That was actually how you'd met Elvis! He saw you fiddling around with a few prop pillows on the set's prop bed, at the time he didn't know you were the producer's daughter though. To keep things short and sweet he said a few sweet words, and as the directors arrived at the set they had to practically pull you and Elvis off each other, and the set designers found another reason to hate you as your and Elvis' cuddle fest had left the bed completely disheveled.
Since then Elvis had met your father, and with his ever-so-present charisma, convinced your father to let you move into his California house. His main bargaining chip was that a young girl like you shouldn't be left alone in a city such as California while your father flew to Europe to co-produce an upcoming film with big names involved.
And the couple weeks that you were supposed to stay with him turned into months, and before you knew it a year had passed, with you and Elvis in this lovely routine.
Mornings
Mornings with Elvis could either start as early as 8AM or as late as 3PM, it usually depended on whether or not he had to film early, you were more of a sleep-in-as-long-as-possible type of girl, but you were also a very clingy one as well. So when you'd feel the bed shift as Elvis' weight began to leave it, you'd whine tiredly and blindly grab on to whatever limb of his was closest, today it was his wrist.
He'd chuckle into the glass of water that he was downing while his other hand that you had successfully captured ran between the folds of your silk robe, finding its rightful place at the soft fleshy part of your inner thigh. You'd hum softly, and roll your head lazily his way, your eyelashes fluttering as you tried to open your eyes at the bright morning sun that was shining through the window.
Even though you loved to sleep in, you loved Elvis more, so you'd crawl out of bed just to be by his side as he went through his morning routine. Either resting your head on his back as he brushed his teeth or playing with the rings on one of his hands as you sat on the bathroom's marble counter while Elvis used his other to shave himself.
And of course by the time you were awake enough to get ready he'd be out the door after planting an abundance of kisses on your cheek and neck. But as always, just as you were about to step into the shower with your short little baby blue towel just barely wrapped around your body, you'd smile and see if you could catch him one more time, just get one more kiss.
So you'd go running down the stairs, hoping no one was around to see the way the towel no doubt fluttered around your naked body. Like a wild child, you'd run out the front door barefoot and onto the warm morning pavement to where you saw Elvis in his beige Cadillac
Elvis' eyes would go big as he saw the only thing keep that little towel on your body was the two tiny fingers you had pinching both sides together by the corners.
With a breathy giggle you would lean in through his opened passenger window to give him one last kiss.
He'd shake his head with a laugh and grab you by the chin to pull your lips to his, letting his linger on yours for a few hot seconds before pulling back and staring down your cleavage, noticing the way the towel pinched around your upper body was barely hanging onto your breasts.
Elvis would look at you with a fond smile and faux-disapproving look afterward, then he'd tease with a pinch to your cheek, "You best get inside little girl. Just givin' everyone a show…"
You'd smile cheekily and press one last kiss to his cheek
As you'd waddle back inside, he would linger in the driveway long enough to watch you till you got in.
If there was one thing he loved, it was to watch you walk…
At The Studio
Sometimes Elvis would let you come to set with him. When you came with him he usually had a driver and you'd sit in the back with him. Unfortunately, the days you went to set with him it was usually early and you still felt a morning haze, so you'd sit on Elvis' lap and rest your head on his shoulder with your eyes closed, slowly drifting to sleep. He'd talk to Marty, Lamar, or whoever was driving while he kept a protective hand on the edge of your skirt to keep it from lifting.
After arriving at the studio you'd be wide awake, talking with some of the girls there, and Elvis would watch you waddle around in your tight little skirts with a smile. Even from afar, he could be seen practically breaking his neck to get a glance at you.
Despite being raised around movie studios and sets, you could be such a ditz sometimes, accidentally wandering onto a set that was being used. Or seeing Elvis on a set and wanting to run to him to hug him, only to later learn that he was actually doing a scene.
You'd jump from fright when you'd hear a loud voice abruptly yell, "Cut!!" And Elvis would see it and laugh softly, walking past his female lead and over to you. After pulling you to the side of the set his hands would rest naturally on your hips as he reminded you, "When the cameras are rollin' ya can't come to me, ya gotta wait till the scenes are done"
You'd frown with embarrassment and avoid eye contact as you quietly explained, "Didn't know they were filming… Thought the cameras were just there"
He'd tease you with a smile, "Mhm, I bet ya secretly jus' wanted to be in the movie hm? Is that it? Ya wanna be a little movie star?"
You always had a hard time understanding his teasing, he knew this, so before you could panic he'd pull you close to him, rubbing his cheek against yours as his hands fell to your ass, mumbling into your cheek before pressing a kiss on it, "Mm jus' teasin' ya Baby"
You'd then nod and let out a breath you were holding, and as he'd begin to rock the two of you back and forth one of his hands would slide down a little and reach under the short skirt of yours to pinch your ass cheek as he whispered a promise, "I'll put ya in your own little movie Babydoll, one that just I can watch… That sound good?"
You'd giggle into his cheek as his kisses roamed down to your neck, each press of his lips soft and innocent. You'd ask with pure curiousity, "What kind of movie Elvis?"
He'd pull back and stare at you with eyes full of adoration for your innocence. Some would say you were just clueless, but he knew it was just your sweet innocent mind that made you ask stupid questions.
Elvis held your hands sweetly in his as he mumbled for only you to hear, "I'm thinkin' a production kinda like the one we made last night…"
You had to think for a second to get a clue as to what he was referring to, the two of you did a lot last night, you played board games, he watched you bake him and his friends cupcakes, along with quite a few other things…
But he said a few words to help you realize what he was talking about, "Ya know, with the feather, and that sweet little sound ya made…"
As you realized what he was referring to, your face grew red and he stepped closer staring down at the adorable look of embarrassment on your face. He decided to take it a step further as his body shielded yours from the rest of the people on set.
Elvis' hand ran under your skirt and up your inner thigh pinching the curve of the flesh at the very top of your inner thigh, right where your panties ended. His smirk was small as he murmured, "Was this the spot that you liked the most? Or was it…"
Before he could move his hand again you grabbed him by his forearm with a scandalized look.
By now you'd be a blushing mess, which only made him chuckle loudly and pull you close. His laugh rang out on the set and he'd hold you with an adoring look in his crinkled eyes, "Oh Honey, what am I gonna do with ya?"
Afterward, he'd have Jerry walk you down to his dressing room, usually because the director was getting pissy with your (accidental) disruptions, and Elvis wasn't about to have some stuffy-suit director saying anything to his Babydoll, so it was best to have you sit around in his dressing room while he finally got actual work done.
Telephone Calls
Of course, you couldn't always go with Elvis to the studio, sometimes you had to stay home and sit prettily in the living room as you waited for the telephone to ring, when it finally did you'd pick up before the first ring was finished.
"Elvis!!"
You'd hear him through the line laugh softly before mimicking your tone as he said, "Baby!"
"I miss you Elvis" He'd check his watch and say softly, "I only left two hours ago Hon" You'd shrug and explain that two hours without him felt like an eternity.
He'd tease you and ask, "Alright what do ya want me to buy?" But, as stated before, you didn't understand when he'd tease you and you'd pout and say, "I don't want anything, I really did just miss you…"
Though you couldn't see it, he'd lick his lips and smile as he reassured gently, "I know Baby, I was just teasin' ya. I missed ya too"
The telephone conversation would go on much longer than the director and other actors would like, they couldn't get anything done without their star, but their star couldn't get anything done unless he had an hour-long telephone conversation with you.
Sometime throughout the conversation he would always comment on your voice.
Elvis would smile into the phone and say how sweet you sounded, the first time he'd ever talked about your voice he'd said, "Ya sound so cute an' squeaky, ya like my little rubber duckie."
Unfortunately that teasing name stuck, but you secretly liked it when he'd fondly call out in the house, "Duckie! Where's my girl?" after getting home from the studio.
It also wasn't bad when he'd whisper into your ear whenever he knew you felt overwhelmed, "I think a bath sounds good right now, an' ya know I can't take one without my yittle rubber duckie" He'd punctuate the nickname with a smiling kiss to your temple.
Issues
You and Elvis had many great things going for your relationship, but it would be a lie to say the two of you didn't have issues.
One that always remained was something that he loved most about you. It was your, well, for lack of a better word, cluelessness.
Sometimes he'd make a joke, or say something, that he assumed you would understand, but you didn't. And when he didn't realize you didn't understand you'd sit there thinking he was mad or upset with you.
And when that thought came to mind, all rational thinking (or, the little bit you had) flew out the window and you'd sit there next to him biting back tears.
One time he made some remark while he was playing poker with his friends that didn't land right, but he was too focused on his hand to realize you took offense to it. It was something along the lines of you sticking yourself to him like a leech, not being able to do anything on your own. It was meant lovingly, but you didn't understand that.
At the time you were sitting on his lap, staring at his cards with him, you interpreted his words as him being annoyed with you always sitting on his lap and following him around like a puppy.
So throughout the night as he would say things to you, you'd answer shortly, suddenly out of spirits.
Seeing that his sweet little girl wasn't being sweet, set Elvis on edge, and he began to actually become annoyed.
After one particularly curt-sounding answer, he leaned back on his chair and set his cards down so no one could see them, his arm that was once wrapped around your waist now fell from it as he spoke, "If ya gonna act like a bitch then just go upstairs, no one wants that here."
Now Elvis didn't swear with you hardly ever, but when he felt like you were displeased with him, he couldn't help it. He believed the best defense was offense, and he was good at it.
The tears you'd been biting back threatened to spill over as both sadness and embarrassment washed over you. Elvis glared at you while the guys around the table tried to pretend they weren't paying attention as they stared at their own cards like they had the best hand in the world.
You cleared your throat and got up from him, slowly walking away and beginning to let out little sniffles.
The room was silent as you walked up the stairs, sniffling the whole way up, Elvis could see you from the poker table, and just as you closed the bedroom door, the entire silent downstairs could hear you begin to cry in the bedroom.
You were loud with everything you did. When you were doing specific things with Elvis upstairs the entire downstairs could hear you, which also meant when you were crying pitifully, the entire downstairs could hear you.
And anytime Elvis heard you cry, he realized how much he preferred the former.
Elvis sighed and took a drink from his coke bottle before slamming it back down on the table, and getting up, roughly pushing his chair as he did so. As he marched up the stairs shaking his head, he yelled to the boys, "Don't look at my fucking hand, I'll be back"
He would slam the door open and closed as he got into the bedroom, seeing you with your makeup a complete mess, and your eyes reddened.
Though Elvis followed you with the intent to yell at you and ask you why you were acting the way you were, his hardened features would soften, and what would be an argument turned into him hushing you as you spouted apologies for acting the way you were.
After you'd finished crying he would hold your hand and kiss your cheek, mumbling with a soft smile, "Will ya come back downstairs?"
And though he knew you didn't even know the rules of poker he would say as a helpful encouragement, "Need my Babydoll to help me win against the boys"
To which you would always give in, and the two of you would march back down the stairs, staring at each other with so much love, that the guys could've mistaken you two for newlyweds on your honeymoon.
Many arguments like that had come along the way because you never communicated why you would get sad. It was pushed off as you just being bitchy because you lacked the confidence to explain yourself, thinking it was always easier to just be in the wrong and apologize. But it was always resolved, maybe not the way it should've been, but resolved nevertheless.
Elvis was your everything so the thought of losing him because of an argument terrified you to the point of tears. And to Elvis, you were his everything so the thought of losing you because of an argument angered him to the point of yelling.
But you were both too young to realize that those two ways of dealing with stress didn't mesh well together.
So for the time being you two loved hard and fought hard. But there was love, always love.
After all, how could he not love you? His Babydoll.
Tada!! My second ever headcanons post!! I'm still not sure if I'm formatting it right but I've decided I'm ok with that!! I really enjoyed writing these it was so fun!! I want to write more headcanons for this reader specifically, so if that's something you'd like anon feel free to let me know!!
You can view the request here!!
As always thank you for reading, and feel free to send in more requests!!
