#ouatih x reader

[nerdywineaunt]

The Handy Man (Cliff Booth X OC)

Pairing: Cliff Booth x F!OC Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Age Difference, Praise, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Possessive Cliff

Summary: Dottie Handler is the daughter to legendary SFX couple Natalie and Bruce Handler. When she comes home to Hollywood from school in Santa Cruz she reconnects with, and can't keep her eyes off of a familiar face who in turn can't keep his hands off of her.

Words: 8736

Doris Handler had always been at home on set. The Hollywood facades of homes that transported millions into the homes of these picture perfect families and stories that were tied up with a bow every week had been her stomping ground from the moment she was born. Because of that she had never felt more at home and more real than when she was surrounded by professional liars. The only daughter of Hollywood Special FX team Natalie and Bruce Handler, Doris had surprised everyone except her parents when she decided to go to school to become a physical therapist. She had trained with actors and stuntmen from the time she could walk, and she had witnessed first hand how the people she loved had been affected by injuries. 

It was the spring of 1968 and she had just gotten home from her last year of school in Santa Cruz. It was her first week home and she had already checked in with her new supervisor and had a list of requirements for her internship she’d be taking for the next three years. Driving down the street past NBC studios, the brunette’s mind wandered as she considered everything she had been told by Dr. Howard. 

It was a nice drive from Burbank to Santa Clarita to the Melody Movie Ranch where she knew her parents were waiting for her, and when she pulled her ‘64 Sunbeam Tiger up to the studio gates, her good mood was doused by the security guard telling her that they didn’t have her name on the list working that day. “Look, I’m a Handler,” she tried to explain for the third time as she pointed to the clipboard. “My parents are both here, Natalie and Bruce Handler-“ 

“I don’t care if your parents are Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers,” he said as he stared her down. “You’re not getting on this set without a pass.” 

“Look, I promise I’m supposed to have a pass,” she protested. 

“And I promise if you were supposed to have one, you’d have one,” he replied sharply, earning a look of indignation from the girl. She put her hands on her hips and lifted a finger, ready to give this guy a piece of her mind, when her (justified) fury was tampered down by a long familiar voice. 

“Dottie? Dottie Handler?” She turned and for a moment she wasn’t sure who the old cowboy looking at her was- and then the realization of who had interrupted her righteous indignation hit her like a mouse hitting a cat with an iron. 

“Cliff Booth!” She squealed before she ran and jumped into his arms. He caught her with a laugh as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

“Holy hell Princess, where have you been?” He asked as he set her down and then looked her over. “I see you were growing up wherever that was…”

“I went to school in Santa Cruz,” she explained as she kept her hands on his chest. “You look good Cliff,” she said as she looked him over and he smiled as he looked her over slowly, biting his lip as he did and rubbing his chin. 

“Yeah- yeah you too Sweetheart,” he nodded slowly before he met her eye again. “You here to help your folks out?” 

“Well I would be if this guy would let me get to work,” she turned her ire back on the security guard who huffed out a sigh. 

“And I told you, if your name isn’t on the clipboard, you’re not getting on set!” He shot back. She took a breath and once again Cliff’s calm voice broke her planned indignation. 

“Let me see that,” he said gently and took the clipboard from the security guy. “Oh- now come on man,” he said as he sighed and looked at the security guy. “You know this is yesterday’s schedule right?” Doris had to admit, the color draining from the security guard’s face was so satisfying to watch, and Cliff stepped into the security shack before he came back with another bundle of papers. “This is your daily,” he said as he clipped it to the clipboard and then flipped a few pages down to crew. “Oh and would you look at that? Doris Handler,” he looked pointedly at the security guard whose face was deep red now. 

“I-“ 

“Should be letting the lady get back to work now, huh?” Cliff asked and the security guard sighed before he lifted the partition keeping her from entering the studio. 

“Thank you,” she said to the security guard and then turned to Cliff. “I’m over working on Gunsmoke today,” she said before she kissed his cheek. 

“I’ll find ya Sweetheart,” he promised. 

When she did see Cliff again, he was sitting in a golf cart, dressed in a typical cowboy costume and he grinned when she stepped out of the SFX trailer with a pack of cigarettes in hand. 

“Hey Pretty Lady,” he grinned and she grinned back before she stepped out of the trailer slowly. 

“Hey yourself,” she said as she paused and looked him over. “Where’s your horse Cowboy?”

“Well Ma’am, I done traded him in for this here metal steed,” he said and she giggled. “And me and this here steed were wonderin’ if you knew a pretty girl who would allow us to escort her to her set?” 

“Mm, a Pretty girl huh?” She asked and he grinned. 

“Prettiest on the set,” he said and she laughed before she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Well come to think of it, someone did call me pretty earlier today…” she said slowly as she rolled back on her heels and then to her toes. “But prettiest on set?” 

Cliff let go of the breaks making his golf cart lurch forward a couple inches before he hit the break again and he clapped his hands over the steering wheel. “Woah there boy- I tell you he only gets like this around the real pretty girls,” he grinned as he looked at her. “What do you say Dottie? Wanna ride?” Doris’ cheeks burned at the double entendres, and she bit her lip before she climbed into the seat next to him.

“With you? Absolutely,” she said as she sat next to him and he grinned as he looked over at her. 

Rather than going to the set, the two sat on the hood of Cliff’s car, smoking cigarettes and talking. “So you’re gonna be a Physical Therapist,” he said slowly. “How’d you come up with that?” 

“Well,” she exhaled her smoke slowly. “I like to help people, I grew up around all you stuntmen in the FX department, and all the injuries you guys get,” she explained. 

“Smart girl,” he said as he leaned against the side of his Karmann Ghia and smiled at her. “So you’re a physical therapist now?” 

“Not yet,” she replied. “I’ve got to do an internship learning all about physical therapy. I actually just met with him this afternoon,” she said as she pulled her checklist of what she needed to do out of her pocket. He leaned over and snagged the checklist before reading it over, taking a drag of his cigarette as he did. 

“This isn’t too bad,” he commented. “One hundred hours of massage?” 

“Yeah, I have to give massages so I’ll know how to do it in the future,” she explained and he nodded as he flipped the paper over and then slowly exhaled his smoke. 

“You know Rick’s been talking about needing a massage,” 

“You’re still working with Rick?” She asked with a laugh as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Of course I am,” he chuckled as he handed her a new cigarette. “You remember working on Bounty Law?” 

“Of course,” she giggled. “I even got to be in the background a couple times,” 

“Oh I remember,” he said as he looked at her fondly. “But uh- well you’ve grown up haven’t you?” He asked as he stepped a little closer.

“Yeah,” she said as she looked at him. “I have,” Cliff stepped between her thighs and moved one hand to her leg as he leaned in and touched his lit cigarette tip against her unlit tip. She inhaled, lighting the cigarette before she reached up and plucked the cigarette from between her lips. 

“Yeah you have,” he whispered as he ran his hand over her thigh. “What are you now- twenty two?” 

“Just turned twenty three,” she told him and he gripped her thigh a little harder. 

“What do you say I talk to Rick for you?” He asked lowly. “I may even get him to pay you,” 

“I say you’re gonna need my phone number to let me know what Rick says,” she replied and he smirked slightly before they both heard someone calling his name. They looked over and saw the man of the conversation, Rick Dalton walking over, dressed in the exact same outfit that Cliff was wearing. 

“Hey Rick,” Cliff grinned as he slung an arm over Doris’ shoulder. “Look who it is! Little Dottie Handler!” 

“Dottie Handler?” Rick frowned slightly and she smiled as she tucked a curl behind her ear. 

“Natalie and Bruce’s daughter,” Cliff clarified and a look of recognition crossed Rick’s face. 

“There’s no way!” He laughed as he walked closer. “God way to make me feel old,” Rick Dalton said as he looked her over. 

“What’s up Rick?” Cliff asked and Rick looked away from Dottie’s long legs and to his friend before he cleared his throat. 

“Oh, right, they just cut me for the day. I’m going to go get changed and then we can go,” 

“Okay,” Cliff said and Rick nodded before glancing back at Dottie who smiled at him genially and then subtly elbowed Cliff in the side.

“Oh- hey before you go, get this; remember how you were saying you needed a massage?” 

“Oh god yes,” Rick sighed as he absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder. 

“Well Dottie here is going to school for physical therapy, and she needs to do one hundred hours of massage,” Cliff explained cheerfully as he looked at Dottie who smiled at Rick. 

“What do you charge?” Rick asked and she shrugged. 

“I’m still a student- does five dollars sound fair?” 

“That sounds perfect,” he smiled. “How about you two get in touch and figure it out huh?” 

“Sounds good,” Cliff grinned as he glanced back at Dottie who grinned back at him before she watched as Rick Dalton walked away. When he was gone she slid off of the car and smiled up at Cliff as she drew a pen from her back pocket and then took his arm. 

“Hollywood-2697,” he read as he looked at the number. “You got it Pretty Girl,” he brushed her jaw with his knuckle softly and then glanced in the direction Rick had gone off in. “I better go put on real clothes,” 

“Shame,” she replied as she looked him over, not missing how close they were standing as she looked back up at him. “I always imagine you dressed as a cowboy. 

“You imagine me often?” He asked and she bit her lip before running her thumb over his arm where she had written her number. 

“Call me and find out sometime,” she said softly before she backed away from him. 

When Cliff did call it was the next day and he was calling from Rick’s house. “Think you can come up and work your magic on Rick this afternoon?” 

“Sure,” she said cheerfully. “What time?” 

“How about two?” He offered. “You know where Ciello drive is?” 

“Sure,” she replied. 

“Great, he’s at 10053 Cielo Drive,” 

“Groovy, should I park on the street?” 

“Sure, I’ll see you later Pretty Girl,” 

After getting a shower in and putting on a pair of conservative pants and a comfortable, but appropriate top, she slipped her feet into some sandals and braided her hair before she took the massage table out to her little blue tiger. She shoved it into the back seat and then hopped into the front before she headed from the middle of Hollywood up to the hills. It was a ten minute drive and she listened to the new Beatles song on the radio as she drove. 

A cigarette between her lips and the fly aways from her hair flying in the warm LA wind as she drove up N. Davies Drive, she turned onto Cielo Drive and after checking the addresses, she parked in front of the house Cliff had told her the address of, and then got out of the car before she lugged her massage table out and carried it to the door. After ringing the bell, the door was opened by Cliff who smiled as he leaned in the doorway looking down at her. “Hey,” he greeted her and she smiled as she looked him over. Jeans, a white T-shirt, a unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt over it, his blonde hair hanging in his eyes as he looked her over. “You look cute,” 

“I look professional,” she retorted and he grinned before nodding. 

“Professional cutie,” he said before he leaned down and took the handle to the massage table. “Allow me,” he said as he carried the table into the house. She looked around as he carried it further in, and then followed after him. 

“Where’s Rick?” 

“Out in the pool,” he said as he nodded to the back. “Where you want me to set this up?” 

“Where will Rick be the most comfortable being naked?” She asked and he scoffed before looking her over again. 

“Is Rick the only one being naked?” He asked and she grinned before stepping up close to him. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She asked flirtatiously as she placed a hand on his hip. 

“Oh Pretty Girl,” he mumbled as he looked her over. “You have no idea how much I’d like to know,” she smiled as she ran her hand from his hip to his thigh before the two looked over as the door to the back opened and Rick Dalton walked in with an empty glass. 

She looked over and then took a step back as Rick shook his hands off. “I just dumped my entire drink into the pool,” 

“Good timing,” Cliff laughed. “Look who just got here,” 

“Hi Mr. Dalton,” Dottie said cheerfully and he stared at her blankly for a moment before his face broke into a smile. 

“Dottie! Of course, is that today?” 

“Yes sir- as long as you’re ready for a massage,” 

“Oh god Sweetpea, you have no idea how ready I am,” he nodded eagerly. “What do you need?” 

“Well, Mr. Booth here is going to go set the table up in your bedroom, and then I’ll grab a couple sheets if you have them,” 

“Of course, yeah, Cliff will show you where the linens are,” 

“And then I’ll have you come into the bedroom and we’ll get started,” 

“Perfect.” 

The first massage went well- so well that Rick paid her twice what he’d promised to pay her, and he asked if she’d be willing to come back weekly. It was great having the weekly practice, and it made it easy to see Cliff, something she always looked forward to. He would occasionally chat with her, they would share a cigarette and she would massage his boss. 

It wasn’t until one day eight weeks later that anything changed between the two. She had gotten to the house and found Rick there, in a tizzy. She had seen Rick in a mood many times, but this was a good mood, he was excitedly talking to Cliff when she walked in. “Hey guys,” she said and Rick looked at her. 

“Oh shit, is it Thursday?” He asked as he looked at his watch. “Uh, okay, don’t leave, I have a night shoot tonight,” he explained. “Cliff is going to drop me off and then come back here,” 

“Okay,” she said slowly. 

“I’ll be home around eleven- maybe twelve- can you wait?” 

“I mean, I can, but are you going to want a massage that late?” She asked and he nodded before he cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. 

“Of course, stay here!” He ordered before he looked at Cliff who grinned from where he was sitting on the couch. 

“Be right back,” he winked and she chuckled before she shook her head and went to the bedroom where she set up the table as usual. She wandered back to the living room and opened the small silver box on the table next to the couch that she knew was full of cigarettes. She lit one and then curled up on the couch after pulling her book out of her bag and cracking it open. 

Either way, she was getting paid. 

When Cliff got back, she looked up as he walked back into the house, she was still curled up on the couch and he closed the door before looking at her. “Whatcha reading hot stuff?” He asked and she glanced at the book before holding it up to show him the cover. 

“It’s called Rosemary’s Baby,” 

“What’s it about?” 

“Some woman getting knocked up by the devil,” she said as she looked at the book again. 

“Hot stuff,” he chuckled before he glanced at the clock. “I’ve got some stuff to do up on the roof,” he told her and she held her hands out.

“What the hell am I supposed to do until he gets back?” 

“Read your Satan porn,” he shrugged and she scoffed as she shook her head. 

A couple hours later, she had finished her book and Cliff was coming back in where she was straightening the kitchen up. “What are you doing?” He asked and she shrugged. 

“Straightened up a bit,” she explained. “I figured Rick wouldn’t mind,” 

“Yeah,” he said simply and walked over to the couch where he eased down onto it with a groan. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked and he glanced over his shoulder at her. 

“Just an old injury,” he assured her. “Messed it up in Korea,” 

“What is it?” She asked and he sighed before looking at her. 

“I got stabbed,” he told her before he tugged down his Hawaiian shirt and lifted up the white shirt, showing a long healed scar across his shoulder. “Went deep, so when the weather starts to change, my shoulder gets real stiff,” 

“You know what’ll help that?” 

“Don’t say a massa-“ 

“A massage,” she smiled and he grinned slightly before shaking his head. 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” 

“I don’t know, how did you?” She asked innocently and he grinned at her. 

“You don’t have anything better to do today?” 

“I finished my book,” she pouted and he groaned. 

“Oh don’t pout,” he sighed and she walked over to the living room where she knelt between his legs. “Dottie,” 

“Cliff,” she pouted up at him through her thick dark lashes. “Please?” 

“Woman,” he sighed as he moved a hand to the back of her head. “Don‘t,” 

“It’s just a massage,” she whined softly as she ran her hands up his thighs. He tightened his grip on the back of her hair and then let out a low breath. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered. 

“What’s wrong Cliffy? Afraid of me seeing you naked?” She pouted, knowing exactly what she was doing to the older man. 

“Oh Pretty Girl,” he groaned before he sat up a little more and looked down at her. “Is this how you talk to Rick?” 

“Nope,” she made sure to pop the p as she spoke and he leaned down so he was closer to her. 

“No?” He asked and she shook her head. “Who do you talk to like this?” 

“Just you,” she whispered as he tightened his hand in her hair. “I’ve wanted to talk to you like this since I was a teenager,” she admitted and he groaned softly. 

“With all the celebrities you could have chased after- why me?” He asked and she licked her lip as she thought about the answer. 

“Because you never tried anything before I was eighteen,” she whispered. She looked into his eyes and he threaded his fingers through her hair, his other hand going to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip and she parted her lips before softly wrapping her lips around the tip of his thumb. 

“What else?” He asked and she sucked on his thumb softly. He groaned softly and she pulled back from his thumb. “Fuck Pretty Girl,” he whispered. “What else?” 

“That New Year’s party,” she whispered and he groaned as he gazed down at her. 

“If you want me naked- all you have to do is ask,” 

“I want you naked,” she told him bluntly and he nodded. 

“Come on,” he stood up and took her out of the room before leading her down the hall to Rick’s room. The table was set up there and she leaned against it as Cliff let go of her hand and shut the door. “You actually want to give me a massage?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Get another signature on my log, and get you naked,” she said slowly. “I don’t see the downside,” 

“Baby, if I’m doing this naked, so are you,” he said as he walked up to her. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, pulling the shirt over her head before he tossed it to the ground and sank to his knees. He unbuttoned her jean shorts as he kissed her hip, and across her lower stomach to her other hip. 

“Cliff, you’re supposed to be the naked one,” she reminded him as he dragged her shorts down her legs. Gone were the days of trying to look professional for Rick, he didn’t care what she looked like, and half the time she was roped into helping him learn his lines, or calm him down when he was having a meltdown. 

“If I’m naked, you’re naked,” he repeated as he looked up at her. “Fuuuck me you’re gorgeous,” he breathed before he kissed her mound through her panties. She bit her lip and he stood up, trapping him between her body and the massage table. 

“Come here,” she whispered before she pushed his Hawaiian shirt over his shoulders. She saw him wince when she touched his shoulder and she helped him out of his white shirt before she ran her hands down his muscled chest, pausing as she looked up at him before she got to the button of his pants. 

“Do you undress Rick?” He asked and she shook her head. “Do you want to?” 

“No,” she told him honestly. “I just want to undress you,” 

“Undress me Baby,” he whispered and she unzipped his pants and unbuttoned them. He groaned softly as she ran her hand over his crotch and then let his head fall back. “Good girl,” he whispered and she smiled before kissing his chest. 

“Cliff,” she whispered as she pushed his boxers down his legs. “Get on the table, face down,” his head tilted back up and he looked down at her in disbelief before she smiled and kissed his neck, just at his throat. 

“You’re kidding,” 

“I’m going to make your shoulder feel so much better,” she promised and he let out an astonished laugh before he shook his head and wrapped an arm around her. 

“You know I have a lot more I’d rather have your hands on?” 

“I know,” she assured him as she ghosted her hand over his hard cock. He tightened his grip on her hip and she smiled before gently biting down on his jaw. “And I’m going to touch all of you,” she promised. “But first-“ 

“Get on the table?” 

“Yeah,” 

He did as he was told, and she helped cover him with the sheet as he adjusted himself so he was comfortable. “Pretty Girl,” he looked up at her, propping his chin on his hand as he did. “You haven’t-“ 

“I haven’t slept with Rick,” she assured him. “I mean, he wants to, but I haven’t,” 

“He’s said that?” He asked and she smiled before shaking her head. 

“He didn’t have to,” she told him softly. Cliff considered that before he laid back down on the massage table and she ran her hands over him gently. She picked up a bottle of oil and spread it on her hands before she began to massage him. 

When she was done with his back she leaned down and ran her fingers through his hair. “Turn over for me,” 

“Baby,” he opened his eyes. “Boy Scouts could camp under what I’ve got going on here,” 

“How do you think I know Rick wants to fuck me?” She asked lowly and Cliff turned over. He was indeed very hard and he looked up at her before lifting his arms over his head to grip her hips as she stood by his head, running her oiled hands over his chest. 

“Does Rick have a view like this?” He asked as he stared up at her bare breasts. 

“No,” she replied with a smile as she worked on his shoulder. He groaned and she massaged into his shoulder, while he continued to grip her hips. 

“Fuck Dottie,” he whispered as she dug her fingers into his shoulder. 

She worked slowly, rubbing tight muscles before she moved to his side and applied more baby oil to her hands. She massaged his chest and stomach before she glanced at the sizable tent he had going on. She could see the damp spot at the tip of the tent and she drew the sheet away, exposing him fully to her. She climbed onto the massage table then, straddling his hips and ran her hands up his body, earning a groan from him as her hips pressed his hard cock between them both. He gasped as she sat back up, his hands moving to touch her, almost desperate with his grip. 

“Cliff,” she admonished him lightly and he whimpered before he let his head fall back. When he was no longer looking at her, Dottie wrapped an oiled hand around his thick, stiff cock and began to run her hand up and down his shaft, her hand moving over him easily, drawing a gasp from him. 

“Christ,” he groaned. His cock practically throbbed in her grip and she bit her lip as she watched his face while she stroked him. “Don’t stop,” it was surprising how close he was already, and she grinned as she continued to stroke him with one hand, the other oiled hand going to cup and stroke his balls. Cliff gripped the side of the massage table as her hands worked over him, cupping and squeezing his heavy balls, drawing another groan from him as her other hand stroked and squeezed his well oiled shaft. She started to increase the speed of her hand, drawing a pained sounding groan from him, making her slow her hand again. His eyes flew open and he shook his head almost desperately as he gasped “No no no, don’t stop, don’t stop Pretty Girl,” 

With the encouragement, she began to pump her hand up and down his cock again, he met her eye and she continued to stroke him as he reached out and gripped her upper arm with an incredible strength. “Cliff,” she whispered and he groaned. “Cliff,” she said again, earning a nod and a pant. 

“Keep saying it,” he nodded as precum oozed out of his tip, rolling down her hand as she stroked him a little faster. “That- oh fuck- that’s right baby, milk that cock, almost- almost-“ she watched as his hips arched and thrust against her hand before he let out a low moan, his balls tightened in her hand and cum shot out from the end of his cock, arching to his stomach where it landed in a pool of sticky white residue. His hips continued to jerk against her hand, and she continued to stroke him, faster now as he came, and when the last rope of cum rolled down her hand he moved his hand from her upper arm to her wrist and he stilled her hand. “Get the fuck over here- right now.” He demanded as he sat up and pulled her up his torso. 

His fingers made quick work of ripping- yes, literally ripping- her panties down the seam on the sides. He yanked the ruined panties off of her and tossed them to the side before he moved two fingers to her soaked slit and ran his thumb over her. “God that got you wet huh Pretty Girl?” He asked. 

“Yes,” she panted as his thumb moved up and down her slit. He drew his hand away from her slip and raised his hand to his mouth before he sucked his thumb off, groaning at the taste of her on his thumb. 

“Fuck you even taste pretty,” he groaned before he returned his hand between her legs. She knelt above him, straddling his waist as she bit her lip and he sank a finger into her sopping cunt. She keened as he slid into her, watching her as her hands found his chest to keep herself upright. “That’s it Pretty Girl,” he encouraged when he felt her start to move her hips. “That’s right, ride my fingers,” his thumb found her clit as he curled his middle finger inside of her, drawing a gasp from her lips. “Good girl,” 

“Cliff,” she whined, as she sank down over his finger. Watching him cum had been so hot, massaging him to climax so erotic, and as he curled his finger inside her wet pussy, she felt her arms and legs break out in goosebumps. 

“Oh that feels good huh?” He asked. “Does my Pretty Girl feel good?” 

“Yes,” she gasped as his blue eyes burned with passion as he watched the way her hands curled, nails digging into her chest. 

“Yes what?” Cliff was taking control again- it was so rare he let anyone else have control over him like that, and while it had felt amazing, he needed a level of control. 

“It feels good,” she wailed as he pumped his finger into her a little faster. 

In response Cliff added a second finger to her soaked cunt, slipping it into her easily as she cried out, “That’s my girl,” he whispered as he cupped her face with his other hand. “That’s my good girl. Keep going Baby Doll, keep riding me,” her nipples hardened as she kept riding his hand, arching against it with a wanton moan as he scissored his fingers apart. “Stroking cock made you so wet, didn’t it?” He asked. “Did you like knowing all that was for you?” 

“Yeah!” She gasped. 

“Yeah?” He asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling his fingers again as he rubbed his thumb directly over her aching clit. 

“Cliff!” She all but squealed and he grinned as he watched her. 

“You said you think about me- do you think about this? Do you think about getting fucked by me?” He asked as he rubbed his thumb over her clit firmly. Sweat prickled at Dottie’s brow and she nodded as she took a breath. 

“Yes,” she moaned. 

“Yeah? Do you think about me touching you?” He continued and she nodded as she bit her lip. 

“Yes,” 

“Do you touch yourself when you think about me?” 

“Yes!” She cried and Cliff sat up before he grabbed the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair as he gripped it tightly. 

“Say it,” he ordered as he curled his fingers inside her, mercilessly rubbing her G-spot as he stared into her eyes. “Tell me what you do,”

“Oh god-“ she whimpered, years of attraction culminating in this moment, the way he fucked her with her fingers had been something she had imagined for years, and god was she getting close. His fingers masterfully coaxing her to completion, but as she stumbled on her words, he slowed, and then stilled his fingers. “Cliff,” she dragged out the word in a long whine, earning a grin from him as he looked at her through smug, half lidded eyes. 

“Tell me what you do,” he repeated and she whimpered before she licked her lips. 

“I- I think about you, and I touch myself,” she whispered and he curled his fingers against her gspot. 

“What else?” 

“I um, I make myself cum,” 

“On your fingers?” 

“Yes,”

“Thinking about me?” 

“Yes-“ 

“Thinking about how much you want to take my cock?”

“Yes!” She cried as he quickly resumed fingering her, and rubbing her clit while she moved desperately against his hand. Cliff’s lips crashed against hers, tasting of sweat and cigarettes, he dominated her mouth with his; tongue moving against hers, claiming her- owning her mouth, and in actuality, owning her with every stroke of his fingers and every breath he drew out of her. 

“Cum for me,” he demanded against her lips. He moved his mouth, pressing sloppy kisses to her jaw and neck before biting down on her neck. “Come on baby, cum for me. Cum for Daddy,” 

Dottie whimpered at his demands for her to cum, but when he called himself Daddy it was like the whole world ceased to exist, all Dottie knew was his lips and teeth against her flushed neck, his body heaving with heavy breaths against her chest, and his fingers- oh god his fingers, five of them threaded into her hair, gripping the brown strands, clutching them like she would float away if he didn’t keep a tight grip on her; two fingers of his other hand sunk deep in her wet cunt, middle and ring finger curling and coaxing her to orgasm while his pointer and pinky fingers kept her pussy spread for his attack on her; and his thumb, not to be outdone by his other fingers, kept an almost magnetic press against her clit. It was around his fingers that she finally, blessedly, had her first- of several- orgasms of the day. 

Hot velvet walls clenched around his fingers, and he scraped his teeth against her neck. Her pussy clenched around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her, drawing a cry of pleasure from deep within her breast. Her pussy clenched and released around his fingers, hot walls gripping his fingers in an erotic vice grip as she let out squeals and high pitched moans of pleasure until her soft, flushed body went slack against his warm, strong chest. Spatterings of chest hair rubbed against her erect, sensitive nipples and Cliff slipped his fingers out of her drenched pussy, running through her soft, trimmed curls before he moved his hand up her body, streaking her dampness over her skin. 

“That’s my girl,” Cliff mumbled as he raised his hand up to her mouth. She gasped through parted lips and then moaned as he pushed his middle and ring finger between her lips, pressing down on her tongue as he watched her face carefully. She groaned and closed her lips around his fingers, tasting the bitter sweetness of her own juices on his fingers as her tongue moved between and around his fingers. 

Cliff drew his fingers from her mouth and moved his hands down to her thighs, wrapped strong arms around her legs, and then turned before he climbed off of the table. Her legs were around him still, his hard cock pressed against the soft flesh of her shapely ass, and he turned, depositing Dottie back onto the table before he adjusted himself so his tip, red, and inflamed pressed at her aching entrance. She was spent, she was sure she was, but Cliff didn’t wait, he sank his thick tip into her needy cunt, drawing a deep groan from her. Someone should have told her body that she was done, she was spent, but her body had apparently not gotten the memo, and she arched towards him, sinking him deeper still into her. Her still sensitive pussy clenched around his cock and he cupped her face with one hand while the other moved behind her, supporting them both on the massage table as he drove his hips forward, pushing further still into her, and earning another cry of pleasure from her. 

“You gonna give me another?” Cliff asked and she nodded. “Yeah, you gonna cum around my cock?” 

“Yes!” She gasped as he drew his hips back and then pushed forward again, sinking further into her. She cried out, and he pushed her legs apart as he pulled her towards the edge of the table until her ass was hanging over the edge of the table, allowing him to push into her until his tip kissed her cervix and his hips ground against hers. She keened again, and Cliff pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her lips. Her tongue met his hungrily, and he fisted the back of her hair even tighter as his hips drew back and then snapped forward again. 

Each thrust sent shockwaves through her pussy, through her entire body as she panted against his lips. She wrapped her arms around him, gripping his back, dragging her nails down his skin as she arched towards him like a bitch in heat. “Cliff!” She cried in pleasure as he started to set a pace, his hips moving against hers, his cock stretching and filling her pussy more than she realized it could be filled. 

His lips met hers again, his kiss demanding and passionate, the sounds of their bodies moving together practically vulgar. His lips moved to her neck again, his free hand to her mound, and pressed into her mound gently before his thumb met her swollen and sensitive clit. A gasp ripped through her and he groaned against her neck as he pumped his hips forward, his thumb moving in tandem as he drew her towards her rapidly approaching second orgasm. “Don’t stop,” she begged as his hips moved into her harder. “Don’t stop!” 

“No fucking way,” he panted against her neck, rubbing her clit under his thumb with such an intensity that she thought he could start a fire. 

In a way, he had started a fire within her, a fire that only he could control, and as he stroked in and out of her, he stoked the fire of desire burning in her belly until her legs clamped around him and she tugged him closer as best she could while a second, more intense orgasm ripped through her body. She cried out in pleasure as her walls milked his cock, his own hips jutted against hers, he rolled them and ground into her as her orgasm made her shake, and as her hot walls clenched around him, he, for the second time that day, came deep within her. 

Dottie could feel each thrust punctuated by the rope of cum spilling from his tip, and when his hips stilled finally, she panted and laid her head against his shoulder. His hand moved from her aching pussy, up her body, pausing only to give one tit a squeeze, and then he cupped her face and tilted her head up, kissing her openly, and deeply. “I could spend all night in this perfect little pussy of yours,” he told her and she whimpered softly as he stroked her cheek. His other hand was still fisting her hair, and he tugged her head back, kissing down her jaw and neck before he slid out of her, cum dribbling out of her spent pussy as he looked between them. The cum that had landed on his chest had smeared against her, and she was still trying to catch her breath. “Come on,” he took her hand and helped her down from the massage table. “Rick’ll be needing a ride soon- we’d better clean up.” 

She followed him to the bathroom on still trembling legs, and he turned the shower on before he cupped her face and kissed her slowly, and deeply as the water heated up. One of her hands rested on his chest while the other stroked his wrist gently while he kissed her, she loved this, as spent as she was, she ached for him to keep touching her, to keep fucking her. 

“Who’s my girl?” Cliff whispered as he gazed down at her, and she smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I’m your girl,” she whispered back.

“God damn right you are,” he agreed. He checked the shower and then held the door open for her. She climbed in and immediately relaxed feeling the warm water hitting her skin. 

“Rick doesn’t mind you showering here?” She asked as he climbed in after her. 

“Nah, he knows I work up a sweat working here,” he told her as he stepped up behind her and ran his hands over her shapely ass. “Normally I use the guest bathroom- but you know, not enough room for two,” he explained as he dipped his head and kissed her shoulder. “Bend over for me,” 

“What?” She asked and he ground his hips against her- to her absolute shock, he was still hard, and she looked over her shoulder at him in surprise. 

“Oh yeah,” he grinned. “I told you I could spend hours in your pussy,” he listed a hand and ran his knuckle along her jaw. “I’m going to make your cunt miss me when I’m not inside you.” Dottie moaned- she couldn’t help it- and she bent over as Cliff had asked. She found she couldn’t turn down this opportunity, this chance to be fucked so thoroughly by him. Her arms rested against the tile wall of the shower, and he hooked an ankle around hers before pulling her legs apart, exposing her aching pussy to him. 

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered in he ear, and she did before slowly letting it out as he filled her cunt again. “That’s my girl,” he whispered as his hips pressed into her ass. She squirmed, she was still desperately sensitive, and sure this orgasm would take no time in the world for him to coax out of her. 

“Cliff,” she whimpered as he started to move his hips again. 

“I know Pretty Girl,” he whispered in her ear. “And you’re doing so good for me,” 

“Please,” she whimpered as he rocked his hips. 

“Please what?” He asked and she let out another whimper. “Please what Pretty Girl? Please stop?” 

“No!” Her eyes flew open and she could feel him grin against her shoulder before he bit it lightly. 

“No?” He asked coyly. “You want to take my cock again?” He drew his hips back and then thrust them forward. “You want this cock?” He did it again. “You want to cum all over it?” And again. “Tell me what you want Pretty Girl.” 

“Yes,” she whimpered. Christ she was still so sensitive, her pussy was so sore, but she was sure he could easily coax another orgasm out of her. 

“Yes?” He asked against her neck, one hand going to cup and squeeze her breast. His finger and thumb found her nipple and squeezed it gently before he tugged it softly. 

“Yes!” She cried, her nipples had always been sensitive, and she whimpered as he tugged and twisted her nipple, her hips grinding back to meet his. 

“You want to cum all over this cock?” 

“Yes-“ 

“You want me to fill you with cum again?” 

“Yes…” 

“You want your cunt to ache for my cock when I’m not around?” He all but growled the last question in her ear and she whined before she nodded. 

“Fuck yes,” 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispered. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want.” 

His hands roamed her body, he gripped and squeezed her hips as he drew her back against him, he thrust his cock in and out of her aching folds, her tender and soaked pussy stretching around him as he plowed into her. Dottie’s body ached and she groaned with each thrust of his hips, but she took every single thrust, she even tried a move she had learned from a friend and tightened herself around his cock, making him swear in her ear. 

“Do that again,” he all but begged and she did, making him arch into her harder. 

His cock felt amazing against her, and when he brushed his thumb over her achingly sore clit it nearly sent her to her knees. Cliff was quick to catch her and hold her against his chest though, and he chuckled as he gripped her tight. 

“That’s it Pretty Girl,” he whispered into her ear. “That’s it,” he encouraged as he held her and then slowly moved to his knees, taking her down with him. He laid her down on the floor of the shower, on her hands and knees while he knelt behind her before he ran his thumb over her battered and used pussy. “You’ve got one more in you for me,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. He positioned himself at her entrance again and pushed himself in, hands resuming their place on her hips, pulling her back towards him as he drove his hips forward; the slapping of their bodies punctuated by the grunts that came from both of them. 

“Harder,” Dottie managed to squeal as water rushed over them both, her hair sticking to the sides of her face in long brown tendrils. Her pussy gripped him like a vice and Cliff gripped her hips harder before he began to pull her back over his cock, using her like a sleeve to fulfill his desires, fucking her without abandon as he drew himself closer and closer to completion. 

“Fucking right,” he grunted as he drew her back against him. “That’s my Pretty Girl, that’s it baby; gonna fill you with so much cum it’ll be leaking out if you all week,” Dottie moaned at the image of being so full of his cum that she would be leaking it all week, at the store, at home, just a steady stream of Cliff filling her panties was enough to make her shiver. 

“I want it,” she wailed, her voice echoing off of the tiles of the shower. “Oh fuck I want it!” She begged and he brought a hand down to slap her ass. 

“Yeah you fucking do you little tramp,” he groaned. She was surprised at his choice of works and at her lack of reaction to them- in fact her only reaction was to moan and arch back against him. 

“Harder,” she begged and he moved a hand to wrap around her, pulling her up so her back was to his chest. His other hand moved back between her legs, it was like her clit was his hand’s summer home, and he found it immediately, rubbing the sore and swollen nub as she cried out, her head falling against his shoulder as she moved with him. Her body hurt, her lower stomach and thighs were sore, but he was right, she had one more orgasm in her, and he was going to draw it out. 

“Cum for Daddy,” he whispered in her ear. “Cum all over Daddy’s cock Pretty Girl,” 

“Cliff-“ 

“Daddy,” he corrected her and she whimpered as she reached back, threading her fingers into his blonde hair as he kissed and bit at her shoulder. 

“Daddy,” she whimpered softly and he thrust into her harder. 

“Louder,” 

“Daddy-“ she spoke at a normal volume. 

“Louder.” He ordered before bringing a hand to her jaw and holding it as his other hand still mercilessly rubbed her aching clit. “Let the whole fucking neighborhood hear you.” With that he pinched her clit between two fingers and rolled it, drawing a loud cry from her body as she was taken over by her third and most powerful orgasm in a row. 

“Daddy!!” 

“Yes, yes Pretty Girl,” 

Thank god they were in the shower, Dottie had never had an orgasm quite like this one, with the normal gasping for breath, the normal slaps of skin against skin, and the normal feeling of a hot rubber band in her belly snapping- with all of those feelings, came a new one. 

Hot liquid ran down both of their thighs as he squeezed her four again, and Cliff let out a laugh that could only be described as joyous. 

“Good god, look at you go Pretty Girl,” he said in astonishment. She could feel him rub her clit even harder, making her cry out and practically fall off of his lap as she came. “That’s Daddy’s girl,” he told her as he continued to drive himself in and out of her. “Almost there, you’ve got one more for me,” 

“No!” She gasped and he nodded as she pulled away from his lap- immediately feeling empty as she laid on the floor of the shower, her knees pulled to her chest. 

“Oh yes you do,” Cliff moved over her, and immediately slid back into her. “You’re going to ache for my cock- remember Pretty Girl?” He asked. “Your gonna crave me Pretty Girl,” he promised as he continued to fuck her in that position. She whimpered and whined, and he held her legs up before he started to jerk his hips against hers again, once more spilling inside her hot cunt- not one to be proven wrong about anything though, Cliff kept his thumb on her clit and rubbed it until one final orgasm shook her body as she lay on the shower floor, practically a babbling mess as he rode her orgasm out. 

When he stopped, he pulled Dottie to his chest, sitting on the floor and holding her against him as he stroked her hair. “That’s Daddy’s good girl,” he whispered as he held her. “You did so good for Daddy,” 

“Cliff,” she whimpered and he kissed her cheek before he cupped her cheek and guided her to lay her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m right here Pretty Girl. I’m right here, and I’m so proud of you,” 

“Is it always gonna be like this?” She questioned and he smiled softly before he looked down at her. 

“Do you want it to?” He asked and she lifted her eyes to meet his. 

“Yeah,” she said decidedly and he smiled before he leaned down and kissed her lips softly.

“Then yeah Pretty Girl- it can always be like this,” he nodded. 

The two stayed in Rick Dalton’s shower for another twenty minutes before they got out and got dressed. She threw the linens into the wash, and was just considering folding up the table when they got the call to go get Rick from his film set. Dottie went with Cliff, not having anything better to do, and as the two sat in the car, he tugged her closer to him, and took her hand before pressing it to his thigh. As they drove she could feel him getting hard again and she looked at him in surprise. 

“What can I say Pretty Girl?” He asked. “My horse likes the prettiest girl in this here town,” 

Dottie burst out laughing- she couldn’t help it, and Cliff laughed as well as she tried to get over her surprise at what he had said. “You’re some kind of addict,” she said with a shake of her head. 

“Addicted to your pussy,” he commented and she rolled her eyes with a smile. 

“I thought I was supposed to be addicted to your cock,” she shot back and he grinned. 

“Oh you are-just don’t know it yet,” he said before glancing at her. “But tonight; when you go home, and you imagine me in my cowboy getup, trust me when I say your fingers just won’t cut it anymore,” 

“Well what do I do then?” She asked as he slowed to a stop at a red light. 

“Then you call me, and I come get you, and I fuck you until you can fall asleep at night,” 

“Cliff?” 

“Yeah Pretty Girl?” 

“What are you doing after this?”

[moltisantiii]

I'm your Little Baby Doll, you're My Mr. Rock n' Roll

Cliff Booth x Actress! Reader

Summary : In 1960's Hollywood a rising starlet catches the eye of a professional stuntman. Caught in the world of film, they are each other's escape.

A/N : 99% sure this fandom is dead, but this is my blog I do what I want. Just a heads up the chapter starts off from Cliff's POV before switching to yours. This story was (obviously) written while listening to unreleased Lana. Chapter II coming soon.

Warning : None

Word Count : 3k

Next Chapters : II, III

Click here for Ao3 Ver.

Cliff was not famous, but he wasn't unknown. To the public, he didn't exist. To the people working in Hollywood, he was a talented stuntman turned murderer. So overall, people more or less knew his name, not that he cared all that much. He was never one for the spotlight anyways. It was funny, how LA big shots never paid him much attention before he became a rumoured criminal. But after all, that was how the movie business worked. Brilliant people shunned by talentless crooks.

Cliff leaned on his yellow Cadillac, his boss' car in truth, but he'd been the only one driving it for years so he considered it his. He was slowly smoking a cigarette in the pale moonlight, lost in thoughts, waiting for Rick Dalton to finish his meeting inside so he could drive him home.

Rick had been his boss and now friend since the rise of their careers on Bounty Law. To everyone else it seemed like Cliff was the one following Rick from set to set like a lost puppy, but in truth it was Rick who could never get anything done without his double. Dalton might've been a great actor, but it was all he was talented at. This didn't bother Cliff, he was glad he could spend his days driving and getting paid for it, plus he enjoyed Rick's company. However paranoid the man might've been, he was fun to be around. 

Cliff took a long drag of his cigarette as he looked up at the bright billboard in front of him. It was an ad for an upcoming film. Cottontail Banditwas the name of the movie. The image showcased a beautiful young woman lying on her side, dressed in a playboy bunny outfit with curled hair and accessories to match on a pale blue background. Although he noticed her get-up covered her more than the regular bunny suit. The collar was higher on her chest and her hipbones were hidden under the glossy fabric. He'd seen a short article about the film in a magazine. It was a comedy about a waitress at a playboy bar who used her seduction skills to steal from men. He remembered this because he found it strange that the picture had managed to get a PG rating, considering the nature of playboy culture. He read the tagline that was written above the actress' legs ; Bunnies, bucks and mischief. He huffed as he looked at the girl's face once more. She was covered in exaggerated makeup and her expression was, strangely enough, neutral. Though her eyes were wide with surprise almost. 

He was interrupted by the sound of a car door opening and closing. When he turned around to look, Rick was back and ready to leave. "What are you looking at ?" Rick said as he leaned down to get a better look at the billboard. Cliff threw the rest of his cigarette on the ground and got in the car. "Oh... That's that new girl... She just got signed with our company. I can't remember her name." 

"You know 'er ?" Cliff asked as he started the car. 

"Not personally. People been talkin' about her because this is her second or third picture ever." Cliff hummed. "Y-You mind stopping by the studio ? I need to go pick up some scripts for auditions." Cliff knew he didn't really have a choice and started making a detour towards the film lot the studio was on. 

After some meaningless conversation, they arrived at their destination. The car stopped in front of the toll booth. Inside, a security guard was sleeping, leaning on his arm. "Larry !" Rick shouted, waking up the man. "What're you still doing here ?" When the duo usually stopped by the studio late at night, it was always empty and they'd even had to lift the barrier keeping their car from passing themselves. 

"Some artsy new director is taking his sweet time." The man said annoyed. "They're not even filming, they're taking promotional pictures for the movie."

"Well, you know how beginners are." Cliff laughed. "Now open the gate, won't you ?" 

The guard did as he was told and let the car pass. Cliff parked in front of one of the offices. Rick got out and assured he'd be back quickly. Cliff sighed and took his carton of cigarettes from inside the glove box. To his left was the only film lot that was still opened. He could hear people moving and talking from the inside. As he put one of the cigarettes in his mouth, the door of the movie set opened. From it emerged a woman, her back facing him.

He took in her appearance, starting at her shoes and slowly making his way up. She wore black heels that were quite short, adding almost nothing to her height. She wore slightly shiny skin-toned tights which made it seem like her legs were just naturally smooth. As he continued looking, he realized she wasn't wearing pants, but rather a familiar bodysuit with a white pompom attached to the back of it. Her shoulders were bare and it seemed like she'd been decorated in, probably fake, diamonds. Her curls were being blown by the slight breeze, and on top of her head were placed a pair of rabbit ears. She wrapped her arms around herself. 

Cliff got out of the car to light his cigarette, the sound of the door closing made her turn around to face him. It was the same actress he'd seen on the billboard. "You alright there ?" He asked as he let out a puff of smoke. 

She approached him, her arms still tangled together. "Our camera broke and it's freezing inside, so I needed to step out." She nervously smiled. 

"Yeah, the indoor studios get really cold when they turn on the AC, and it's not like you got much to warm up with." 

"You're an actor ?" 

"Stuntman." He answered with his signature grin. 

"What's a stuntman doing here at this hour ?" She laughed. 

"Driving around my boss." 

"Who's your boss ?" She asked as she leaned back next to him on the car. 

"Why are you askin' so many questions ?" 

"I'm new here, we might cross each other again." She said as she held out her hand for him to shake. Her wrists were decorated with fake suit cuffs and her nails were perfectly manicured. "Y/N L/N." 

"Cliff Booth." He said as he shook her hand. "Rick Dalton's my boss." 

"Thee Rick Dalton from Bounty Law ? I used to watch it as a kid." 

Cliff gave her a look, not wanting to comment on the fact she was still very much a kid compared to him. "Then you must've seen me too."

"So you're famous ?" She gave him a teasing glance. 

"Not as much as you." He said as he looked ahead. He saw from the corner of his eye that her head was still facing him. 

"How do you know I'm famous ?"

"I've seen your billboards." He could tell from her demeanour that she was not too proud of that. "Cottontail Bandit. Is it a good film ?"

"It's good if you like comedies. The studio is scared nobody will go see it because they'll assume it's one of those X rated pictures." She huffed. 

"It isn't ?" Cliff teased.

She delicately pushed his arm, holding back a laugh. "Mr. Booth, you are terrible." 

They heard someone from inside the film set call for her. She got off the Cadillac and started walking away slowly. "Run along, bunny." Cliff said, as if assuring her it was alright to leave. She waved him goodbye quickly and got back to work. Cliff would be lying if he said he hadn't looked at her ass. At that same moment Rick came back, only catching a glimpse of the white pompom attached to her lower back. 

They both got inside the car again. "W-Were you talking to someone ?" Rick asked as he put his pile of scripts in the backseat. 

"Y/N L/N." 

"That was her name !" Rick said, finally remembering the name of the new actress he'd mentioned earlier. "Her director's the one who won't leave ?" 

"Seems like it." 

"They're still filming that playboy movie ?" 

"I doubt she dresses like a playmate by choice." Cliff imagined the bunny ears on her perfectly styled hair again in his mind. "Did you find anything interesting ?" The stuntman said, changing the conversation topic. 

"More TV westerns. I feel like I'm getting type casted now. Plus these ones don't have many episodes planned out." 

After bringing Rick back home, Cliff drove back to his trailer in his own, less impressive car. It was dark out and it had been a long day at work. As soon as he opened the small door, Brandy, his dog, came running out. He scratched her ear as her tail wagged, happy to see him. After a few seconds he lead her back inside. He turned on his small and old television before walking to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. 

As soon as he opened a cabinet, Brandy barked. Cliff laughed at his impatient pet. "We've been practicing patience." But after a dozen barks and noises from the dog, he realized he couldn't say no to her. He sighed as he grabbed one of the many cheap dog food cans he had stored in the cupboards. He ripped the lid off with ease and watched as the slop slid out of the can and into a dog bowl. He waited a minute before letting the dog eat. As soon as he whistled, Brandy ran towards her food and wasted no time chowing down. 

Cliff sighed at the sight and began looking for food for himself. After a minute or two of searching, he found a packet of instant mac and cheese. He put the pasta in boiling water, paying no attention to the mess he was making as he poured the bright orange powder in the pot. As he stirred the food, he heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, but haven't I been such a good girl ?" He turned towards the sound almost immediately, it was coming from his TV. When he looked at the screen he saw her. Y/N, in her now signature bunny costume. He kept on watching the commercial featuring her that was now playing. Her demeanour was completely different, more confident and sure of herself than when he'd seen her earlier that evening. 

"Brace yourselves for one of this year's most hilarious comedies, starring rising starlet Y/N L/N !" The narrative voice of the advert said, as multiple shots of her from the movie flashed on the television. 

Cliff dismissed his supper and sat down on his small couch, his eyes never leaving the monitor. He watched as she looked up at an unnamed costar in the scene, her hands on his chest. The next scene showcased her sitting on a bed, joyously throwing hundreds if not thousands of fake dollar bills in the air with a mischievous grin. 

"From director Arlo Duvall ; Cottontail Bandit. Coming to theatres near you next month. Rated PG." The last shot of the commercial was her lying in a gigantic pile of diamonds, blowing a kiss to the audience. "They say money can't buy happiness, but it sure does make my life sparkle." That was her last line in the short TV spot. As the advertisement ended, he laughed. She was a totally different person on screen it seemed. Her character was more serious, self-assured and certain in her role than the actress portraying her. But he couldn't deny, he enjoyed the way she looked. He thought back to her last words to him and how she'd preferred to call him Mr. Booth rather than his first name. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of the hot water falling on the stove. He quickly got up to remove the pot from the burner. The show playing on TV resumed after the last ad, but Cliff wasn't paying much attention to it at that point. 

The only thing he thought about was the fact he might have to go to the movie's next month. 

~

As you walked back into the studio, all seven pairs of eyes inside were on you. Your manager, Frances, angrily walked towards you. "Y/N, where were you ?" 

"I was just outside... It was too cold for me here." 

She grabbed your upper arm. Whatever she was about to do was stopped by her giving you a look. "You smell like cigarette smoke." She unhappily whispered in your ear. 

You knew one of her many rules for you was no smoking. She had spent the past three years creating your public image and she would not see it destroyed. She wanted your persona to be one of the perfect feminine actress. She believed smoking was a man's pastime and it was not something you should be doing as a woman. Although you'd caught her multiple times with a cigarette between her fingers. So much so, you'd noticed a yellow stain forming on her index and middle finger, the hypocrite. 

"Could we get back to shooting before the camera decides to break permanently ?" Arlo, the director of the film, said annoyed from afar. 

You ripped your arm from France's grip and walked back to the set. You sat down on the lounge chair that had been set up for the shoot and continued posing as you heard the clicks of the shutter. After ten minutes or so Arlo finally announced "That's a wrap for Cottontail Bandit everybody !" 

He approached you with a friendly smile and kneeled to be face-to-face with you, still on the chair. "We're all done with the movie, you're just gonna need to do a few interviews tomorrow since there won't be a real press tour or premiere."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity, Arlo. It's been so fun."

It didn't take long for Frances to intrude, making you unable to continue the conversation. Frances wanted to make sure all business decisions were handled by her. Apparently any talking between you and any one who'd ever worked on a movie was a possible opportunity and if it was handled by you it could be ruined. 

"It's getting late." The older woman said, obviously insinuating it was time for you to leave. You quickly said your goodbyes to the crew and walked back to the costume trailer to change. 

You took off your costume for the last time. It might've been inconvenient at times, but you'd miss it. You wondered what your next project would be, and if it would be an experience as comfortable as Cottontail Bandit. You still remembered the day you'd approached the women in the wardrobe department and told them about your concerns regarding your outfit and how they had it fixed for you the next morning. You doubted other productions were as worried about their actors as this one. 

You put on your sweater, skirt and heels, fixed your hair and walked out of the trailer. To no one's surprise, Frances was waiting for you. 

"You weren't smoking were you ?" You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes, you couldn't believe she was still hung up on that. 

"No, you know I never have. And where would I have been able to buy a carton in five minutes without leaving ?" 

"There was someone else outside." She said, finally reaching the right and most probable conclusion. 

You didn't even bother answering and began the walk to your car. "Tomorrow morning, nine o' clock sharp, here for the interviews. And I set up an audition for you." She shouted as you got further and further away. 

Once you got in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath. 

You'd signed a contract with Frances when you were a struggling actress two years ago. You were eighteen, in an unknown city with no connections and it was truly an accident that you met the woman. With no lawyer to reread the paperwork for you, you'd apparently missed a few key elements, mainly about her managing your social life and schedule. She was quick to become your manager, and you her only client. Although your career had improved since your meeting, she was truly a pain. Very strict and controlling. You found out a few weeks after meeting her that she was a failed actress in the 40s, she'd only managed to land roles as background characters with no lines or significance. You didn't know if that's what had transformed her into a bitter old woman. 

You turned on the car engine and began driving away. LA was illuminated by colourful lights and the crowds on the streets. It was nothing like your home state of Oklahoma. Although Tulsa was beautiful and always illuminated, it never had that glamorous charm Hollywood had. You left Oklahoma to start your career as an actress. This wish had been kickstarted by your mother taking you to the movie once as a tween. Little did she know about the obsession with becoming a star that she had accidentally started. Your family had wished you luck when you left, but except for a few letters here and there, you hadn't heard much from them. Not that they disliked you or anything of that sort, simply you fell out of touch. 

As you drove, you thought back to the stuntman you'd met earlier, Cliff Booth. You wished you could have spent more time talking to him. He interested you, you weren't sure why, but you hoped you would cross him again soon. As embarrassed as you were to admit it, you couldn't stop thinking about him. Maybe it was the lack of men in your life, no thanks to Frances' strict rules, or maybe it was due to the way he was genuine when talking to you, not 'talking business'. Not to mention, he was quite handsome, you'd had no problem imagining the amount of women that must've thrown themselves at him every day. 

Whatever the source of your interest was, Cliff Booth was on your mind that evening. 

[stainedsat1n]

If I lowkey wrote a cliff booth x reader fic should the reader be an actor or singer...like it'd make sense to be an actor but smt about the reader being a singer is mwah

[h0n3yblood]

i've got a cliff booth nsfw alphabet coming soon!!

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,023

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @isabelladjanis (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2022

*I plan in writing more with Rick soon enough, because this man needs more love. (Plus I love Leonardo DiCaprio) I might write a short story about this imagine, but for now enjoy this snippet.

[demonofthechili]

Being Friends With Rick Dalton & Cliff Booth: A HC Post:

You being an actress and meeting Rick on the set of Bounty Law when you're hired to play a recurring character.

Rick being the first to meet you, and chatting away with you while you get your makeup done.

Rick also introducing you to Cliff, his charming and cool stunt double who says he's a fan of yours.

Despite you initially spending more time with Rick due to strictly talking on set, Cliff is the one to invite you to post-shoot drinks.

You?? Running lines with Rick?? More than likely.

Honestly, Rick invites you to premiers more than he'd care to admit because either Cliff doesn't want to go, or there are directors/other actors he wants you to meet so you can get some connections.

CLIFF IS 100% DOWN TO FIX YOUR SHIT AND HELP AROUND YOUR PLACE. You need something painted? He'll happily volunteer. You need your car fixed? It's done. Honestly, he's your handyman and will get low-key salty if you get anyone else to help you out.

Rick offering you advice that other actors and directors have given him, and then trying to offer his own to varying degrees of success.

Sitting down and watching reruns of Bounty Law and other shows and movies both you and Rick have been in. You try to make it a recurring thing, though Rick is far too modest to really advocate for it.

You spotting for Cliff when he's bench pressing (honestly, he doesn't need you and you couldn't help anyway, but he likes to catch up with you so 🤷‍♂️).

You looking after Brandy when Cliff needs to head off somewhere cross-country with Rick. Brandy adores you, by the way.

I'm not saying that Rick is kinda awkward around you, but he's kinda awkward around you. It's like he is with Cliff, except a lot more... trying to present himself in a specific way.

When you go for nights out, the guys making sure you're the first to get home properly. If you're drinking at Rick's, they try to take you home, or Rick lets you take the bed.

You hyping Rick the fuck up for a role. He also does the same for you!! Y'all really support each other.

Oh hi, Cliff taking you on his motorbike and maybe even taking you to motorcross because he's a bike nerd?? Absolutely.

Basically: You're all sweet and it's just delightful.

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

Blueberries and Cigarettes

Cliff Booth X Reader

Request by @multifandomfanfic : "Maybe something along the lines of you're a hitchhiker and you meet him after he picks you up from a hitchhiking experience and then you guys like make out in his car."

⚠️ Warnings: Language, drug use ⚠️

The sun was unnecessarily hot today as you dragged your feet along the sidewalk; you were quite a ways away from home. The heat blaring down on your bare shoulders signified you that you were going to be burnt by the end of the day. The sidewalk hurt your feet and your shorts felt especially sticky as you continued towards the open road; your cherry lollipop that you picked up at the convenience store on your little adventure stuck to the roof of your mouth. This summer was brutal.

You passed a couple of signs along the way that were covered with graffiti and dirt. This was Hollywood- home of the stars. Maybe you'd have appreciated it more if it wasn't so grimy. The spots that were uninhabited by celebrities and were filled with the normal working citizens of America were less scenic.

"Hey!" A voice could be heard from behind you and instantly you identified it to be one of the girls from Spahn Ranch. A brunette with large eyes and a tooth gap started making her way towards you with a large jar of pickles under her right arm. Eating one of them herself, she practically throws herself onto you with a smile and a shirt stained with pickle juice.

"Hi." You said, only because you didn't want to be rude. You weren't really a fan of Pussy (the girl, not the thing itself) since she was always a bit more spontaneous and over-the-top than you preferred in a person. She was sweet, just a bit too...

You would've finished that thought, but a pickle was suddenly stuffed into your mouth.

"You like? Stole em' from that place up in town." She said, crunching on another one.

You coughed and took it out of your mouth. "Pussy, I have a sucker."

She laughed with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and made a similar noise to a hissing cat. Her hair was frizzy now that she had been under the sun and her rainbow top was tied incorrectly behind her neck. These small little things about her made her redeemable in a way.

You smiled. "It's okay, you wacko. Yes, the pickles are good, you should try them with a cherry sucker in the back of your throat too."

She giggled and ran towards the bench just a little ways away from where you were walking. You ditched the candy on the ground and continued to eat the cucumber that was forced into your face. The colorful billboards around you were blinding but extravagant, and you didn't know what sight was more interesting; the colors of the advertisements or Pussy sticking her thumb out at the speeding cars nearby as she drank from the jar. "Asshole!" She screamed at the car that threatened to stop, but made a quick turn and drove off in the other direction.

After what seemed like twenty minutes of sitting with Pussy, a yellow car drove up by the sidewalk and stopped in its tracks. You couldn't really see whoever was behind the wheel, but Pussy looked ecstatic.

"It's Mr. Hawaii!!" She said, and pulled your arm up to the vehicle, forcing you and the stranger to come face to face. He was quite a bit older and very handsome, and he had a nice tan that followed all the way down to the hem of his shirt. Meaning: he was tanned everywhere. And boy, did that leave a nice first impression. Longer hair and sunglasses framed his face as he lifted the lenses above his eyes and rested them on his head. A bright yellow Hawaiian shirt adorned his figure and a cigarette was stuck between his teeth, unlit. To say this guy wasn't the most handsome man you've seen would be a complete and total lie.

"Uh, hey." You said, giving a curt wave. You took notice of how he smiled at you; it was full of warmth and invitation. You blushed, feeling your entire body go hot the moment he flashed his brilliant teeth in your direction.

"Well, hello there," He nodded and then looked at Pussy, "You need a ride?"

Pussy must've noticed how enthralled you were by Mr. Hawaii already, so she nudged you in the direction of the passenger side window and grinned as she saw your cheeks flush once more. "Nope, but they do!"

You mentally cursed the girl but also thanked her because goddamn you really wanted to get in the car with this guy.

"Well alrighty then. Hop in?" He finally lit the cigarette and rested his elbow out the window, looking completely and utterly relaxed. He was so laid back that it almost scared you, wondering if he had any ulterior motives for his car ride. But then again, Pussy wouldn't have introduced you with such excitement if she didn't trust the guy.

You nodded in response and opened the car door, giving Pussy a look saying 'Thank you,' as you sat down. The car radio was playing "Bring A Little Lovin'" by Los Bravos and the familiarity of the popular song put any nerves you had to ease. She shut the door behind you from the outside and grinned, picking up another pickle out of the jar and popping it into her mouth. You were about to say something to her through the open window, but Mr. Hawaii was already speeding away and Pussy had busied herself in flipping someone off from the other side of the street.

It had only been two minutes before the man tried to start a conversation, looking back and forth from you to the mirror. "So, how you know Pussy?" He said with a slight southern accent, something you didn't pick up the first time you'd heard him.

"She's just another hippie from Spahn." You said, looking out at the buildings you passed by. Mr. Hawaii drove pretty carelessly.

"Ah." He said, turning his eyes back to the road. Your eyes caught his hand on the stick shift and a bunch of interesting thoughts ran through your head. You knew you probably shouldn't be fancying him in the way you were, but you couldn't help yourself. "Somethin the matter?"

Oh shit. He had caught you staring.

"Oh nothing! Just looking around your nice car." You said, trying to cover up the fact that you were checking him out. He seemed to accept your answer, but you knew deep down that he was aware of your antics. With that sky smile of his and the cigarette between his lips, you knew you were done for the minute you set foot in the vehicle.

Another moment of silence passes as he continues to drive every which way, effortlessly rounding corners and driving through red lights earning a couple of honks and beeps from other cars. Ironically, you felt totally safe.

"So where'ya heading?" He shook his head, letting the glasses fall down into his face and moving his hair in every which way.

"I'm not really in a rush to get anywhere," you said, now anxious that because you didn't have a set destination that you were wasting his time, "You can drop me off here if you have somewhere to be."

He looked at the watch on his wrist and grinned. "Nah, we can keep goin'," he replied.

You played with the hem of your shirt as you stared awkwardly at your outfit. What to do now? It was probably your turn to start the conversation since he had broken the silence the past two times, yet you didn't know what to say. Luckily for you, he speaks again.

"So," he begins, his little western accent kicking in slightly as he speaks. His mouth was drawn into a smile and he leaned over in the seat, staring at you once the two of you reached a red light. "I know a really great ice cream shop a little ways down from here. We could go if you wanted."

"Sure!" You said, hoping it didn't sound too enthusiastic.

...

The car ride wasn't as silent anymore once you had made it to the shoppe. Picking out a strawberry ice cream while your driver licked away at a blueberry one, you held in your astonishment with the beautiful man before you. Sure, Pussy had forced pickles into your mouth and had annoyed you before but goddamn you were thankful that she introduced you to a specimen as fine as Mr. Hawaii.

"That reminds me," you begin, taking another lick of the sweet goodness, "What's your name?"

"Well, what's yours?" He flashes you that brilliant smile once more.

"(Y/N)." You say while watching his body language. Leaning into the table, he gets slightly closer to you and before you know it, he has a hand by your mouth wiping away the straw strawberry.

"I like (Y/N)." He says, laughing as you get all hot and flustered. "My name's Cliff. Cliff Booth."

You realize that you vaguely remember that name from somewhere, although you can't place a finger on it. Mentally shrugging, you see Cliff go for another bite of his ice cream but fail as he ends up with a glob of it on his nose. Just as he's about to wipe it off, you reach out your hand and do it for him. "Allow me, you helped me out the last time." Grinning, you see his cheeks turn a slight red.

"(Y/N), I'm not usually this blunt but uh...you said you weren't in a rush to get anywhere right?"

Wondering where he was possibly going with this, you nod your head in agreement and give him a quizzical expression.

"Well do you want to make out in my car?"

Nearly choking, you stare at him with wide eyes. There's no way someone as handsome and charismatic as him wanted to make out with you. Especially when you first met via hitchhiking. But something told you this was too good of an opportunity to pass up seeing how eager the two of you seemed. You weren't going to let the insecurities get in the way of this one.

"Uh... Yes?" You said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster in the moment, still being somewhat disconnected that this was the reality that you were living in. He takes your hand and leads you back to the vehicle you would always associate with him after this moment and you both ditch what was left of your ice creams in the nearest trash can. Time seemed to slow as you opened up the door on the passenger side and close it, watching as Cliff gets in the driver's seat. He puts a hand along your jaw, leaning you closer to him as he moves his hand to rest along your thigh.

"Are you sure this is okay?" He asks you, noting not only your physical and emotional well-being but also remembering the slightly less average than normal age gap between you.

"Yes, absolutely."

That was all he needed before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours and holding you pressed against his face. He was soft and kind and added very little pressure as he started to loosen up around you and the tight space the car had to offer. It filled you with claustrophobia but the good kind as it felt there was a closeness you wouldn't have been able to reach anywhere else.

"You taste like strawberries and pickles." He says, pulling away from you just to rest his forehead against yours after a while. Sharp deep breaths were heard all throughout the space as you tried to catch your breath, your face a giant smile and your heart a billion butterflies trying to escape your chest all at once. This was where you felt the most at home.

"Well you taste like blueberries and cigarettes, which happens to be my new favorite taste in the world." You say, leaning in for more affection from the stranger but not stranger before you.

...

(A/N): I hope this is okay! Again, I'm so so sorry that it took me this long to finish your beautiful fanfiction request but I honestly loved writing every part of this short story.

With love, Panko Shrimp 💛 🦐

[seal-writes-stuff]

SFW Alphabet – Rick Dalton

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: mental health struggles, alcohol abuse, mentions of the “OUATIH” ending (if you know, you know)

Summary: All in the title

A/N: Hi everyone! Couldn't post anything last week since I was away from my computer, so I’m uploading two fics this week to make up for that! Hope you enjoy.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Rick isn’t overly affectionate in public. He’s used to paparazzi following his every move, so he wants to shield you from that. In private, however, it’s a different story – Rick never misses an opportunity to shower you in some soft affection (more on that later).

He’s also big on words of affirmation. Rick is ready to ramble to anyone who’s willing to listen about how lucky he is to have you as a partner, how talented you are, how beautiful and so on and so forth. He doesn’t let you doubt his love for even a second.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship starts when Rick meets you on set. You’re kind to him, in spite of his disheveled state. You’re sweet and genuine, and that’s not something you can easily find in Hollywood. He’s a loyal friend, ready to fight for you and support you in all of your endeavors.

The two of you also go through a horrifically drawn-out period of hopeless pining. You think he’d never notice you among the sea of people he encounters and Rick thinks someone as amazing as you must have plenty of options besides him. The whole thing almost drives Cliff insane before the two of you finally get together.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Although he’s not very vocal about that fact, Rick absolutely loves cuddles. He’s pretty touch starved, so cuddling feels very sweet and intimate to him. Rick's also a little spoon through and through: when you hold him in your arms, his head on your chest as you scratch his scalp gently... Absolute heaven, the man's gone. Don’t tell anyone though.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Let’s face it, he’s not the best when it comes to cooking or cleaning. Not that he’s completely incompetent, he’s just been hiring people to do it for so long that his own skills aren’t all that great.

As for settling down… When you start dating, coming back to his big, empty house starts to feel pretty lonely for Rick. Of course, he doesn’t tell you that, but he invites you to move in pretty soon. He’s pretty defensive about his space, but he gladly lets you in.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d do it in person, no matter how much it hurts him. The only reason Rick would break up with you is because he believes you deserve better than him, even if it couldn't be further from the truth. In the end, he would spiral: hating himself, blaming himself for ruining one of the few meaningful things in his life.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Rick is the “love at the first sight” type of guy. As in, the man's fully convinced he's going to marry you a week or so into knowing each other. Of course, he wouldn’t propose that soon – not only because he doesn’t want to scare you off, but also because he doesn’t want to drag you into the media spotlight. However, it doesn't matter to you. If it means you can be with Rick for the rest of your life, it's all worth it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s extremely gentle with you, to the point that it actually takes some convincing to stop him from treating you like a porcelain doll. Rick knows that Hollywood can be a harsh place, so he wants you to feel safe and relaxed with him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Just like with cuddles, hugs are a way to express his love for Rick. He doesn’t hug you in public all that much (aside from occasional half-hug with his hand over your shoulder), but at home it’s a total snugglefest. Rick loves how your bodies connect together perfectly, warm and safe.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A few months into your relationship. It's casual too: Rick just drops a quick "love you, bye" before heading off to work as you stand there, shocked and overjoyed. He does have a freak-out session about it later though – it’s a good thing that Cliff is there to calm him down. It’s also a good thing that you return Rick’s confession as soon as he come home, pulling your boyfriend in a tight hug.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Rick’s not controlling at all, but he does get jealous from time to time. It stems from his insecurities for the most part: there are moments when he can’t see himself as anything but a has-been with loads and loads of issues. Surely you could’ve find someone better, so why wouldn’t you? He tries to keep it all to himself because he doesn’t want to worry you, but whenever someone tries to flirt with you Rick’s in a fight mode, sometimes literally. He also apologizes profusely afterwards, even though his jealousy is never directed at you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Rick's kisses are passionate and full of devotion. It's his way of showing you his feelings when he struggles to put them into words. His loves to kiss you on the lips and he also likes to pepper your face in quick smooches. The look of you, flustered and giggling, is pure happiness for him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Rick doesn't really understand kids, so he acts like they’re little adults. He has the good sense to shield them from the harsher parts of life, but he generally treats them as equals. Which, for you, is insanely cute, but he'd never believe you if you told him that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Rick isn’t a morning person, so you’re usually met with sleepy grumbling as he begs you to stay in bed “just for five more minutes”. When the both of you have time early in the morning he loves to cuddle, basking in your warmth.

By the way, making him breakfast is a sure way of turning Rick into a flustered mess. For him, nothing is more domestic and sweet.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

At night, Rick usually makes cocktails, rehearses the script for the next day or both. Of course, he doesn’t force you to stay up if you don’t want to. Still, his heart warms up when you hang around, even if the two of you just quietly exist together.

Rick also loves to practice his lines with you, even if he has the recording just for that. For him, it feels more personal, like you become a part of his work even when you’re not around.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It’s actually a weird situation. On one hand, he wants you to know everything about him. At the beginning of your relationship, Rick would tell every Hollywood anecdote he could remember, throwing some not-so-discreet glances your way every now and then. He desperately hoped he’d be able to impress you, totally oblivious to the fact that you were impressed already.

On the other, he tries to hide all the "ugly" parts of himself because he fears you’ll love him less because of them. Of course, you’re always here to listen to him, no matter how much or little he reveals. You accept all of him and never get tired of reminding Rick of it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Rick's emotions are usually pretty strong, but he tends to keep it together unless it comes to hippie altercations. He’s especially patient when it comes to you though. As it’s been said, he’d hate himself if he hurt you, even by accident.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Rick does his best. As in, he keeps a pocket journal so he can jot down little things about you – the place where you grew up, favorite dishes, what makes you smile… Although with the way he does it, everything soon turns into a mess of scribbles, so he has to spend a lot of time deciphering it like it’s some kind of an ancient text.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you casually dropped that you didn't even watch "Bounty Law" before the two of you met. You’ve said it and forgot about it immediately, but he didn’t. For Rick, it was a sign that you fell in love with him for him, not for his past or current fame. He may have also shed a tear, but he’s not telling you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Rick’s already been protective before, but this gets on a whole new level after what happened that night. He insists on picking you up from work every time, his hand is wrapped around your waist whenever he can get away with it, he gets nervous when you don’t tell him where you’re going, even if it’s just a trip to the grocery store… Rick believes that he failed to protect you, so the thought of something, anything happening to you terrifies him. It takes a lot of time, effort and mutual trust to work through these issues.

Rick also doesn’t want you protecting him because he really wants to be that fearless badass he portrays on screen. You look out for him in other ways though, by helping him battle his demons, cheering him on and accepting him as he is, with all his flaws. Rick really can’t believe how lucky he is to have you sometimes.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Rick goes all out. When it comes to you, he throws all the money he has left and right - he wants you to feel like royalty. You enjoy little things, but he still insists on treating you, at least from time to time.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Definitely drinking. It's Rick's primary form of relaxing, medicating and forgetting about the troubles of the day, which worries you immensely. Rick can get quite stubborn and argue a lot when you confront him, even though deep down he understands that you do it out of love.

Rick’s emotions are also pretty intense most of the time, which isn’t bad by itself. Besides, being in the public eye for so long, he’s learned to control them pretty well. The awful consequence of it though is that he turns all of his unexpressed anger and frustration on himself. The way Rick talks about himself makes you feel terrible, especially the things he says when he thinks you can’t hear him. You always make sure to give him some extra love afterwards.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Weirdly enough, being a Hollywood actor and all, not that much. Rick has heard how handsome he is from his co-stars, interviewers and fans before, but all of that has no weight in his mind. That’s what they’re supposed to say, right? Just part of the business.

Rick believes you when you compliment him, though. That soft look in your eyes, the way you say it… It's all the validation he needs.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. Rick has plenty of doubts about his career, about his life, about who he is as a person – but not with you. You really ground him in reality, make him feel safe and comfortable. He thinks that if you’re by his side, he must be doing something right.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Deep down, Rick is a real nerd when it comes to movies. When he doesn’t star in them, he stops seeing films as opportunities, gained or lost, or a competition and starts seeing them as art. He can talk about it for hours if you let him – and of course you do, playing with his hair as he goes on and on. That passion alone makes you fall for Rick even harder, if that’s even possible.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Well, he isn’t exactly fond of “dirty fuckin’ hippies” – and you’ll have a plenty, plenty of opportunities to hear about it. He also wouldn’t date anyone who would only like him for his fame or someone who would hate his entire personality. Yeah, the last point sounds obvious, but a couple of extremely awkward dinners with Cliff and his then-wife were enough to convince Rick that it’s really not.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)          

He’s a heavy sleeper. When he’s out of it, you can all but jump on the bed – he’s not going to wake up unless there’s an earthquake happening.

Or at least that’s how it used to be until the Manson Family.

Rick hates to talk about it, but you know that the whole thing messed with his mind pretty badly. That’s also when he starts talking in his sleep – mostly in quick, panicked mumbles that you can’t quite make out. You’re currently trying to get him help; above all, you want him to be okay, always.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Confession: Cliff Booth x Fem!Reader

Requested by @lababy2727

TW: abusive ex

@tealaquinn @frozenhuntress67 @juxt4p0siti0n @kwyloz

@what-the--curtains @taikawho

*Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! :)))

******************** "Well, shit Cliff..." Rick chuckled, leaning against the car door as they drove down the highway after a long day on set. Cliff grunted, though, he couldn't hide a smirk. "You're a damn lucky man, partner."  He couldn't forget you. It was your first big role in a Hollywood film. You walked on set, absolutely star struck, though you kept your cool. You wore a bright yellow dress, and a kind smile. You were an actress working on a movie with Rick, and Cliff. You and Rick had to kiss in one scene,  and of course you were both professional about it. "It's only acting," Rick laughed a little. It had only been a few days since filming began, but the three of you had hit it off. More specifically, you and Cliff hit it off... And Rick was having a lot of fun pointing out every single chance he got.

Cliff rolled his eyes behind his shades, as he pulled into the driveway. The two made their way into Rick's place to watch Bounty Law, and drink a couple of beers.

"How'd you know?" "Kn-know? Know what?" RIck smirked, knowing damn well what he knew. Cliff grumbled, "Forget it." Rick chuckled, "Whenever Y/n gets you goin', you run off." "I don't run off." "Today sh-she made you laugh too m-much, and you t-told her you had to go b-back to your trailer." "So?" "Cliff, you don't h-have a trailer." "..." Rick went on, "Y/n's a smart kid. She sure as hell knows that." Cliff sighed, "Well shit...She don't know that." "N-no she knows." "Well shit." Cliff shrugged, pretending not to care...but he absolutely did. "Sh-she knows why you said t-that." Rick smirked, though Cliff shook his head, "Y/N's just sweet. That's all."

"Sure. That's all. That's why y-you mentioned her out of the b-blue, huh?" Rick laughed as he popped the cap off another beer. "She might just be worth mentioning," Cliff smirked a little as he opened a beer, and put his feet up. There was a knock on the door, and Rick got up. "Glad you feel that way." Cliff narrowed his eyes, knowing Rick never mentioned anyone else joining them. He opened the door, "Y/n!" Rick greeted you with a bear hug and led you into the livingroom. "Glad you could make it! I was just about to make some margaritas. Y-You want one?" You giggled, not because of your slightly-intoxicated friend, but because you caught a glimpse of Cliff scrambling ot his feet. "Sure thing, Rick." "Alright, you g-go on n' get y-yourself a seat, kid." He winked, noting your reaction at seeing Cliff. You bit your lip, and glanced down as you stammered a little, "C'mon, now Rick." He lit a cigarette with a laugh, "Margaritas' gon' ta-take a while, make yourselves comfortable."  He disappeared into the kitchen, and you called out, "Nothing's gonna-" You bumped into Cliff. "Y/n!" "Cliff!" You laughed nervously, but sincerely. You didn't expect him to be there, but you weren't complaining. It was a fun night, with  just the three of you... Well...Rick kept coming up with excuses to leave the room, and you didn't quite realize why. Looking back on it...it wasn't much of a mystery. So, a couple nights a week, you'd join Cliff and Rick to watch Bounty Law. Sometimes you'd hang out other days and watch other show. Maybe the Saint, or the Time Tunnel. Whatever was on. Margaritas, Bloody Mary's, beer and cigarettes  became a familair sight. Cliff became less standoffish. He stopped running off to his imaginary trailer. You made him laugh and smile like he hadn't done in as long as he could remember. Eventually, you started seeing each other (without Rick around...and he might have been the happiest person in the world when he heard that). Some nights you and Cliff met at Musso & Frank's. Some nights you went by the Santa Monica Pier. Some nights, even if you'd planned to go out on the town, you'd both just stay at your place, make dinner together, or hang around. Months passed, and you were with Cliff and Rick, watching another episode of Bounty Law, when you saw a trailer for your new movie. Clinking margaritas and bloody mary's you celebrated that night. Still, it meant your time working together was coming to an end. Rick sighed with a shrug, "That's Hollywood. Meet nice people, move around, a-and meet more nice p-people." You nodded, though you were just starting your career out, you quickly learned that. You mentioned in passing that you'd landed a part in another movie. You'd start filming in Hawaii in a few days. It'd be a while before you could find the time to watch Bounty Law with them...or do anything with Cliff. Rick asked, "B-but you'll be at th-the wrap up party, tomorrow night, won't you?" You sighed, thinking about it. You really wanted to go, having met so many wonderful people on set....specifically Cliff and Rick. But it was the night you were flying to Hawaii. Still... "Maybe for an hour or two. Don't get your hopes up, boys." You smiled, glancing at Cliff, as you stood by the door. "Bye, darlin'." Rick hugged you, just in case you couldn't go. "Bye, Rick." He chuckled, then glanced between you and Cliff, finding an excuse to leave you alone again. "Y/n..." "Yeah, Cliff?" You waited with a soft smile, and it made him blush...which was not an easy thing to do. Yet you did it so effortlessly. Before he could say anything, you both heard a loud crash somewhere in the house, followed by Rick cursing. Cliff sighed, knowing he'd have to fix whatever it was eventually. He laughed a little, resting his hand against your face, "Good luck out there, kid." You smirked, "I'll bring you back a Hawaiian shirt or two." He laughed again, and his glance lingered on you. "If you can't go tomorrow...I mean..." "Aw, Cliff..." You flung your arms around him, "I'm gonna miss you." He hugged you back, resting his chin on the top of your head, "I'm gon' miss you too..." You left, though you knew there was more on his mind. You also knew that with Cliff, you couldn't push him to say things when he wasn't ready to. He stood by the doorway, as you pulled out of the driveway and drove down the hill lined with houses. He jumped a little when he heard a voice behind him. "You love her." He shut the door, and turned to Rick, who had  a smug grin on his face. "She's young, Rick. Big up and coming star. She don't need me." "You're too old for this 'i-if you love her l-let her go' shit, man." "Forget it, man." Cliff shook his head, put his shades on, and his denim jacket, and grabbed his keys. Brandy was definitely hungry, after all. Rick muttered, "Goddamn it." having worked so hard to bring you and Cliff together, and it ended just like that... The next night, you drove down the highway. You sighed with a soft smile, seeing as you had an hour or two to spare. You pulled up to the big mansion, hearing blaring music, and seeing bright colorful lights from the street.  You left your luggage in the trunk. You'd only be around for an hour or two, then make your way to the airport. It wasn't long before you spotted Cliff, wearing a bright yellow Hawaiian shirt. "Cliff!" He picked your voice out among the crowd, quickly turning around, with the widest grin you'd seen in your life, as he practically rushed toward you with open arms,  "Y/n!" You were only beginning to talk, swaying with the music together, loosely, making each other laugh. "Y/N." You both heard a loud, agressive, drunken voice stagger through the crowd. You muttered, "For fuck's sake." His name was Mike. He was your ex. And he was not happy. He pulled you away from Cliff, gripping you by your forearm. "What the fuck did I tell you about-" Cliff stepped in immediately between you and Mike, with a warning and low voice, "Hey man. Leave her alone." He barely looked at Cliff, "Stay out of this, pal," then looked back at you with glaring, fuming eyes. "We're through, Mike. We've been through for months. Get that through your fat fucking head." He scowled, and  lunged at you, but Cliff gragged him by his shirt, slamming him onto the concrete, as people gathered around. Some beginning to pull Cliff away, while others dragged Mike out of the property. As soon as he was out, everyone let Cliff go. He could have broken every bone in Mike's body, but he didn't want to scare you, he didn't want blood on his favorite shirt, and frankly... a drunken asshole of a  stuntman like Mike wasn't worth a night in jail. The crowd slowly dissipated, moving toward the bar, the pool, and the music. "Cliff..." He looked at you with a soft expression. You picked his shades up from the ground, though they were broken. You ran into his arms, and he said, "I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't think-" "No, no you-" He looked at you. Your eyes... He couldn't keep lying to you. So he said what he'd wanted to say from the moment he met you on set. Even if you went on to be a big star, if you moved on, if you forgot about him, he'd never forgive himself for not letting you know this one thing. "I love you." You looked up at him, knowing it was almost time for you to go. You hadn't even left yet, and you missed him already. "I love you, too." He smiled, "You know where to find me." "Friday night, at Rick's." It may take a few months till filming wrapped up, but you'd be there. "I'll bring some beer," you laughed, as he walked with you to your car. He ended up driving you to the airport himself, just for a half hour more with you. You kissed goodbye, and you remarked, "Save one of those margarita's for me?"

He winked with a grin, "You got it, baby."

[headoverhiddles]

Mr. Hollywood - Cliff Booth x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: After hitchhiking the California coast doesn’t work out, a sexy stranger decides to do the right thing, and it pays off-- for both of you.

Notes: Hey everyone! I saw OUATIH last night so I figured I’d write some more Tarantino smut! Cliff (Brad Pitt) was def the hottest character. Stunt daddy. Anyway, not many spoilers in this. Just little references to the movie, so if you haven’t seen it yet, it’s up to you if you wanna read :) I’ve put everything even remotely spoiler-y below the cut. Enjoy!

Now on ao3!

You lick a long stripe of vanilla ice cream up the side of your melting cone. The sun is hot today, and you're glad for the cool treat to chill you out.

You'd been waiting by the side of the highway for what seems like the entire day. Aren't short shorts supposed to increase your chances of getting picked up?

You run out onto the road waving as a convertible zips past you, and you sigh.

"Bummer," you whisper, taking another slow lick of your ice cream, and turn. You barely have time to scream as you try to jump out of the way of a speeding sports car.

That's the last thing you remember.

---

Cliff pats his hand along to the song on the radio, idly trying to identify it. Getting away for the weekend was a good plan-- he needed the time away from work, or lack of it, and while he loved Rick, he needed a break from that hot mess of a poor bastard for a while too. That's the good thing about living in Hollywood. He was just a short drive away from the coastal waters of the Pacific, there for when he wanted to cut through the shit and remember what it's like to be a living, breathing man again.

Bad Moon Rising, Creedence Clearwater. That's the fucking name of this song. Hey... what's--

In the distance, Cliff spots something by the side of the road. Someone!

A girl, lying on her side.

"Sheeit," he mutters, really toiling here. He just wants to get to his fucking motel and sleep for 24 hours by the beach... then again... hit and run passed out young thing on the side of the road...

Cliff resigns himself to being a good Samaritan. He pulls over. The little yellow car comes to a sputtering halt beside you, and you stir a little. Cliff lets his reflective sunglasses slide down his nose as he takes a good look at you. You've got a deep gash running across your chest, stuck with gravel, but other than that, you just seem to be a little bruised up.

"Look at you! Somebody's done some damage," he remarks, squatting down beside you.

"Not too much, I hope," you croak, wincing.

"Don't think so," the man smiles a little, "Face is pretty as I've ever seen one." He frowns a little, obviously chastising himself for flirting with a girl that currently resembles roadkill.

"You don't have to stop hitting on me," you smirk, coughing a little as you try to sit up. "It's making me feel better."

"In that case," he grins, helping you to your feet, "Why don't you tell me what the hell happened, beautiful?" You stumble a little, and he holds out his arm again. "Take this here bicep-- that's it, right there--"

"Are you flexing?"

"Don't know what you're talking about--"

"You are!"

"Okay, maybe a little. Kind of a lot." He gives a low chuckle, and guides you to his car, where some CCR song is just ending. He takes off the yellow Hawaiian shirt he's got on, leaving him in a tight white sleeveless shirt. He hands you the article to put pressure on your wound. 

“But your shirt--”

“More where that came from. All just as ugly.  Here we are. Theeere's a good girl-- you just sit there all nice like, and you tell me how I came to find you like that, all fucked up with a smushed ice cream cone beside you."

"I was waiting for a ride... guess I ventured too far until the road, and got hit. Kind of. I feel like I didn't actually get hit."

"A shock graze." Cliff nods, some part of him relieved that you weren't actually hit by a speeding car.

"A what?"

"In the business, that's what we call it. You get a... close call, feels like the real thing."

"You a race car driver or something?" you tease, trailing your fingers up his jeans. 

He flashes another one of those half smiles. "Stunt double."

"Ooh," you cough, grimacing as you hold his shirt on your gash, "Hollywood type. You don't strike me as that type, Mr. Hollywood."

"Well, that's because I don't technically live there, angel. Just work and breathe there. I live in Burbank with my girl."

You quirk an eyebrow. "You've got a girl, huh?"

He glances over, sees your expression, and laughs. "Yep. My dog, Brandy. She's a bratty little mutt. Love her to death."

You smile. "Far out. I dig dogs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good thing I didn't bring her. She don't take too kindly to strangers." You think he's serious, until he wiggles his eyebrows at you. He gives you another sideways look, switching between you and the road. "Where you from, anyway?"

You shrug. "Around."

He shakes his head. "Nah, see there ain't none of this 'around' shit. I pick you up, I gotta know if you're an axe murderer, or... if you're just here to toy with me before you kill me or some fucking bananas natural born killers shit."

"I don't wanna kill you," you snort, "But toying with you sounds like fun." You turn fully toward him. "Besides, where would I fit an axe? Up my ass?"

He bursts into incredulous laughter, and shakes his head.

The California coastal countryside passes you by as Cliff drives on to his digs by the beach waiting for him.

"You sure you're doing okay, honey?"

"I'll be fine," you say softly. "Thanks for finding me."

The two of you drive on in relative silence, stealing glances at one another when the other isn't looking. Cliff is a man of few words, but he's attractive, and you can't wait to see what lies ahead... if your wounds would kindly give you a break for the night.

He's really a sexy stranger-- well, he's not much of a stranger. He's introduced himself to you, hasn't he? And you haven't returned the courtesy.

"Name's (y/n)," you say, resting your elbow on his right forearm, "I'm backpacking here."

"Backpacking," Cliff nods, taking a right turn, "Sounds like fun. You oughtta be a little more careful, though."

"Damn right," you huff, "My bleeding chest is teaching me that." You look down at it, pulling the sticky shirt away. It looks a little better now-- the bleeding's stopped at least.

"When we get to mine, we'll get that dirty old shirt off you and wash you up proper, sound good?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Thanks for doing this, Cliff. You didn't need to."

He smirks. "I know. Still don't know why I did."

You smirk back, leaning into him. "I'll show you why you did."

He chuckles again, and hits the gas harder, peeling around another bend. In about five minute's time, you make it to what looks like a little shack... right on the beach, no one around for miles.

"Yep," he runs his hands through his blonde hair, "It ain't much, but it's home away from home."

"It's amazing," you say truthfully, closing your eyes and listening to the waves practically hit the side of the little house. "Where I'm from, there's no water for miles. This is beautiful."

He nods in thanks, squinting out at the water with his hands on his hips.

"Not my property, actually. It belongs to the state of California, or some shit. I’ll just live here until they find out."

"When's that gonna be?"

He shrugs. "They haven't noticed little old me in 30 years."

He helps you inside. It's just as homely you would imagine with someone like Cliff. It's not messy per say, but it's lived in, and comfortable. A couple broken signs hang lopsided on the wall, one neon bar sign with the pink silhouette of a busty woman holding a beer, and one that reads "What happens at the beach house stays at the beach house."

It's a nice place.

"Mine," you grin, and lay across the sunken couch. He smiles, flinging your feet off the cushion with a heave.

"Mine," he corrects. You compromise by tossing your feet over his lap, and he shakes his head, groaning.

"I picked me up a troublemaker here." He takes a good look at you. "Rick would love you. You're just his type."

"Rick who?" you ask, twirling your hair.

"Dalton. He's my boss."

"The movie star? Huh." You look down. "And... what about you?"

"What about me, what?"

"Am I your type?"

He looks at you a long time, as if thinking about it. "I haven't decided yet." He shrugs it off, getting off the couch. "Enough chit chat. We gotta get you clean."

"You gonna shower with me, Mr. Hollywood?"

"No, I'm gonna direct you to the shower, and leave you to goddamn shower on your own like a big girl."

You giggle, hanging onto his arm as he ushers you down the hall. "Big girls need their daddies too, sometimes."

He hesitates, and you see something flicker behind his eyes. He buries it quickly, but you saw it-- you know his weakness.

In the washroom, you take off your clothes, and gingerly get into the spray, letting it run over you. The cut's doing a lot better now, and though you're bruised from the fall, you're okay. You're just lucky a man with half-decent morals found you.

Getting out, you tug on the boxers Cliff had left you beside some other clothes of his, and get an idea.

---

"What the hell am I doing with her?" Cliff mumbles aloud. He wished Brandy was here-- she was a good listener. "Shit. Pretty girl naked in my bathroom? Nah. I ain't doing shit with her."

He starts to blend some ice and Miller (his personal favourite creation he likes to call the Daily Grind) and lights up a smoke. He takes a deep drag, thinking of your perky body, the way you'd looked at him in the case...

"Well now," he starts to walk around his house, "Cliff. You've been provided with a seemingly no-lose scenario opportunity."

Just then, he hears your footsteps approach behind him.

"Sorry-- I just thought it would be better if my injury got a little air..."

Cliff turns in question, and nearly drops hot ash on himself. You're leaning against the wall, completely topless, wearing only his boxers, riding down your hips.

"That's fine," he grins, huffing.

"Groovy," you wink.

He points to your peaked nipples with his cigarette. "You're not careful there, sweet thing, you're gonna catch a chill."

"I have you to keep me warm," you retort.

"God damn," he mutters to himself, smiling.

"I know it's a lot to ask, after you picked me up and everything... but you got any food around here? I'm staaarving," you bite your lip. He narrows his eyes. You're being coy now. He swings himself over to the little kitchen area, cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Hell, you think I'm gonna bring you all the way out here and not feed you?" He holds out a bowl of kraft dinner he made, and you take it, eating some of the gooey orange mess.

"Mmmm."

"Guessin' you’re a... big fan of mac and cheese," he smirks. You saunter up to him, desire dripping from your voice.

"I think I’m a bigger fan of you.” 

His beer concoction and cigarette are forgotten as you hop up onto him, forcing him to hold you by your ass. You wrap your legs around his back, and in one smooth swing, he has you turned and pinned against the counter.

"I have half a mind to tell you you're overexerting yourself, and send you to bed," he whispers against your lips. You growl.

"Don't you dare."

"I don't know," he plays, dipping his head back from another kiss, "You really think you're up for the pounding you're 'bout to get, honey bear?"

"Fuck yes, daddy, I want it," you moan, and that look comes over his face again.

"Then daddy's gonna give it to you."

He tugs the boxers down, and you use your toes to shimmy his jeans down, guessing correctly that he didn't have anything underneath today.

"Commando?" you murmur, kissing up his neck.

"I seem to've lent out my only pair of underwear," he teases, as you kick said pair off your ankle. You suddenly push yourself off the counter, and drop down to your knees, taking him all the way out of his faded jeans. You wrap your lips around the tip, holding by the base, and he groans, tipping his head back.

"Jesus H Christ," he mutters, "Haven't felt this since... shit, I don't even know..."

"Like it?" You lick along his shaft.

"Love it, babygirl, just love it."

You deepthroat him, and his groans get louder,. lazier, and more drawn out.

"Fuuuuck me up, that's special," he licks his lips, "You gonna let me return that favor?"

"Feeling your big cock inside me is payback enough," you moan, and pull his knees out, toppling him to the floor and crawling on top of him. Wide eyed for a moment, he lets you take the upper hand, but secures you tightly against his crotch as you grind there. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you there, guiding you, and your hands grab for his chest. After a moment of this, he flips himself back on top, and you feel two fingers slip inside you.

"That good?" he whispers against your face. You can barely speak-- you nod feverishly, clutching his muscular shoulders. "Mmm, you're a big girl, baby. I think you can handle three." He flashes a grin as he adds a third finger, and you rock down, moaning so loudly that if there WERE neighbors, they'd be calling the cops. "Come on now, I know you ain't shy. Moan for daddy. Make lotsa nice noises for daddy-- that's it."

"Fuck," you breathe, feeling your orgasm race.

"Come on, let em know!"

"FUCK, DADDY! Deeper-- deeper, right there!"

"Hell yeah. Hell yeah, baby, scream for me!"

You shout his name as you come for the first time, and he gives you a second to calm down before he threads his hand with yours on the kitchen floor.

"You good?"

"Yeah," you gasp, and he parts your legs, using your slick to pump himself a few times before getting between and pushing in. "Ohgod--"

"Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

He starts up a rhythm, holding you tight, propping your head up in his arms as he fucks you good and deep, harder with each snap of his hips.

"So close," you ramble, grinding down to meet his thrusts.

"Am too." He holds your hand, keeping you pinned as he waits for you, slowing his pace to gentle circles of his hips until you cry out, gushing around him again. He then fucks you hard through your amazing climax, keeping you close to him. He pulls out, rubbing your clit to draw you out as he comes as well, some hitting your inner thigh. You bite your lip, laying down and closing your eyes in bliss.

"'M all fucked out," you yawn, and Cliff keeps himself propped on his forearms above you. He shakes the blonde locks out of his face.

"You got exactly what you wanted, didn't you?" he smiles.

"Exactly what I wanted." You sling your legs around his neck, and he holds them there, massaging them lightly.

"I suppose you'll be wanting the rest of that mac and cheese?"

You shrug. "I've had enough. I'd rather fuck all night out there on your beach."

"Not my beach."

"On a beach. The beach."

"Thought you were all fucked out."

"Feelings are fleeting. They change moment to moment. Now are we gonna have some more fun or what?"

He chuckles, and picks you up so that you're riding on his shoulders. He then walks the two of you out the back door to the beach. "And away we go!"

[obscure-imagines]

“well i’ll be damned.” Cliff laughed, rubbing at his stubble covered jaw as he watched you walk by, head buried in your lines as you mouthed them to yourself over and over, “did you know she’d be here?”

“of course i didn’t know she’d be here, fuck!” Rick screamed.

“is this a bad thing?” Cliff asked.

“she’s already made me forget my lines, nothin but a distraction i swear to fucking god-”

“well if you’re not going to go talk to her-”

Cliff grabbed his door handle to get out of the car but Rick grabbed his arm, “don’t you think about it.” Rick warned.

Cliff laughed, “or what?”

[moltisantiii]

I'm your Little Baby Doll, you're My Mr. Rock n' Roll

Cliff Booth x Actress! Reader

Summary : You meet Cliff Booth again, but someone is determined to keep you apart.

A/N : I'm back again with more Cliff content. I just finished my rewatch of OUATIH for the story and gosh is that a great film. Once again, this chapter was written while listening to unreleased Lana.

Warning : Language, Talks of Death (Murder)

Word Count : 3.1k

Previous Chapters : I

Next Chapters : III

Click Here for Ao3 Ver.

You were still a teenager when you moved to Hollywood. With not much to your name, you struggled to make end's meet. You had worked as a waitress, and it was there you'd met your talent agent, Frances Adams. You don't remember how your conversation had shifted from what kind of eggs she'd like that morning to your aspirations of becoming an actress. But in the end, she wasted no time making you sign a contract, binding your careers together for the next decade or so. You still didn't know if Frances had any true experience in business or managing. 

In your two years of working together, she went from getting you to act in commercials to you starring in your own movies. You didn't have a clue how she'd done it, but you were grateful for what she'd done, as you knew not everyone in your position had these kinds of opportunities. 

On your schedule today, an interview and an audition. You'd looked at the limited script you had been given the day before. A short western series, Coyote's Gambit, where you, if casted, would play the part of the main romantic interest. A sarcastic and confident woman with a vulnerable side named Margaret. You were happy to have been considered in something that wasn't a comedy. Not that you hadn't enjoyed making those pictures, simply you wanted to try something different, more challenging for you.  

You arrived at the studio a little after nine. It was a hot day beneath the Californian sun. You'd opted to wear a dress considering the heat and the fact you had an interview that morning. You walked to the costume trailer, which was, luckily for you, not too far from the parking lot. The makeup artists had set up their stations outside considering the limited ventilation in the trailers. You greeted them all quickly as one of them motioned for you to sit down on a chair so she could get started. 

You took a seat and closed your eyes as she began applying eyeshadow. After only fifteen minutes she was done. She handed you a mirror as she moved on to her next client. You admired her work. Your eyelids were painted a light blue with a sharp line of winged eyeliner and a thick coat of mascara on your lashes. It was a popular look and you thought fitted you well after all the monochrome makeup from Cottontail Bandit you'd been used to these past few months. 

You heard the sound of someone walking towards you. You removed the mirror from your eyesight to see who it was. In front of you stood a man in a black shirt and white pants, sunglasses covering his eyes. 

"Mr. Booth, what are you doing here today ?" You asked with a slight smirk as you crossed your legs and laid back further in your chair. 

"Driving around my boss, it's all I do these days." He huffed as he put a hand on the armrest of your chair. You had to stop yourself from looking down at his bicep. "What do they got you lookin' all pretty for ?" 

"An interview and later an audition." He hummed. 

"I think this is the first time I've seen you in regular clothes." He joked as he pulled his sunglasses further down his nose, exposing his eyes. "Not that I was complainin'." 

You giggled. "Yep, the bunny suit is retired. Should've enjoyed it while it was still here." 

"Oh, I sure did, sweetheart." He said as he leaned in closer to you. "Though-"

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a screeching voice. "Clifford Booth get the fuck away from my actress !" Frances. 

He got off your chair. "Miss Adams, how are you doing on this fine day ?" Cliff said, his tone obviously trying to annoy her. 

They knew each other. How ? That you didn't know. 

"Better once you fuck off." Your manager answered,  her voice full of spite. "What the hell do you think you're doing ?" 

"I'm just having a nice chat with Miss L/N about her last film. That playboy one. Am I in trouble ?" He kept his cool, finding amusement in all this almost. 

"You leave her alone or I'll have her get a restraining order against you." Frances said, dead serious. You'd never seen her this mad before, you were almost too afraid to say anything. 

Cliff gave her a dry laugh as he slowly walked away. "See you around, darlin'." He said looking straight at you, dismissing Frances fully. 

"You better fucking not !" She shouted as Cliff disappeared from view. 

"Fran, what's the problem ? We were just talki-" 

"He was the one you were with outside yesterday." She stated plainly.

"Yes ?" You said, not understanding how this was such a grave offence. "He was waiting for Rick Dalton. It was a coincidence. He's just being nice to-" You were cut off once again. 

"You steer away from him. He's no good." 

"Why ? What's your problem with him ?" 

"That prick killed his wife." She dropped the bomb. 

"What ?" 

"Everyone knows it. A 'boating accident' they said. Unless you want to be the next one six feet under, you don't even look at him." She ordered you with complete seriousness. 

As it turns out, you were one of the few people in Hollywood not aware of who Cliff Booth really was. After asking Frances for some more details, she explained that on that fateful day he'd gone on a boat ride with his wife, Billie, and when they came back she had been stabbed trough the stomach by a harpoon. Gruesome indeed. The thought made you shiver, had you been cozying up to a murderer ? Even if your two interactions had been brief, he'd left his mark on you. He'd partially occupied your mind since your last talk the evening prior.

You sighed as Frances lead you to a designated spot outside for your interview. You shook hands with your interviewer, Dean Farrow and sat down on the actor's chair in front of him. As he introduced you to the camera, you spotted far behind him Rick Dalton walking into a building, followed obviously by his stuntman. The door was opened for them by a security guard. Rick seemed to be talking to himself, rehearsing line probably, and Cliff looked as unbothered as ever. 

"So Miss L/N, how does it feel to finally have broken into the world of cinema ?" Farrow asked with that fake news reposter kindness. 

You quickly composed yourself and began answering his question. "It's been such a rewarding feeling after all the hard work I put into my career. I mean just a few years ago I was serving tables at a bad restaurant." You laughed. 

"Talking about waitressing, how do you feel about the controversial nature of your character's profession ?" 

"I think she's trying to live the best life she can with the cards she was dealt. I mean, I don't want to reveal what happens in the movie, but she uses the only tool she feels she has to her advantage. But this is a comedy, I hope people don't take it too seriously." 

"Yes, it seems like audiences are divided on their opinions regarding the film. On one hand the younger crowds seem to think this movie will be an empowering tale, on the other, less open viewers believe this could affect the youth into rushing to sign up for jobs at the Playboy mansion." 

"All I have to say about the topic is that this is a film, we don't want to encourage anyone to do anything. I think viewers need to keep in mind this is a very romanticized version of that culture, we do not see all the struggles my character probably goes through. At the same time, I do not think we should be mocking anyone's who's chosen that line of work." 

After a handful of questions, Farrow ended his segment by telling viewers the release date of the film. The camera turned towards you once last time, you blew a kiss at the audience and waved them goodbye. The cameraman yelled cut and all the tension you hadn't realize you'd built up faded away. You thanked the two men and before they could say anything else, Frances was already back at your side. She excused you as she shoved a script in your hands. 

It was the script for Coyote's Gambit. She gave you a look as if saying 'no time to waste'. You knew the interview had lasted longer than planned, but you doubted you needed to be rushing this much. She brought you towards the building your audition would be taking place in. Your eyes were glued to the words you were reading on the pages, not paying much attention to where the older woman was bringing you. 

It was only when a man spoke that you looked up. "I'm sorry, only the actors are allowed in." That was the security guard you'd seen at the start of your interview. You looked up at the building in front of you and you realized it was that same building Cliff had walked into following his boss.

As you heard Frances argue with the poor man, you intervened. "It's alright Fran. I can take care of myself."

She scoffed, doubting the last part. The security guard opened the door for you and closed it quickly before your manager could try running after you. 

The inside of the studio had been divided into two sections, the waiting room and the audition room. Strangely enough, you were the only person in the waiting room. 

A man walked out from the other area to greet you. He had disheveled brown hair, a long bead and big glasses. "Y/N L/N ?" He called. 

"That's me." You said as you walked towards him. 

He approached you and shook your hand excitedly. "Maxwell Blythe. I'm the director and writer of the show." 

"It's great to meet you sir." You said with a smile as he lead you into the next room. 

"Please call me Max." As you feared, you were faced with Cliff Booth once more. You saw his face shift from bored to amused. Rick Dalton was sitting next to him, smoking a cigarette while whispering his lines. 

Max brought you closer to the two men. "I presume you know Rick Dalton ? He's going to be playing the series lead, Jack 'Coyote' Steele." 

"Of course. It's an honour Mr. Dalton." Rick gave you a simple smile. 

"And this is his stunt double, Cliff Booth." 

"A pleasure ma'am." Cliff said as he shook your hand with both his larger hands, pretending not to know you. He had a huge smirk on his face. You just gave him a polite nod.

After a lot of introductions, you were finally asked to stand in the middle of the room and play out the scene with your possible costar. 

"And action." Someone shouted. 

"Back again, Mr. Steele ? How long do you plan to stay in town this time ?" You started, your character's tone playful. 

Rick paused before saying his line. "Until the authorities come lookin' for me Maggie." 

"Well, I sure hope you haven't forgotten all about us while you were out in the big city." 

Rick stayed silent. Meanwhile your character's strong shield was slowly being lowered to show her soft side. 

"You can't run forever." You said as you got closer to the actor, getting more and more serious as the scene progressed. "They'll know you're here. It's dangerous." 

"I can't leave. Not this time." 

"Why not ?" You recited as you felt the tears pooling in your eyes on command. 

"I've got somethin' to stay for." 

"It's not worth it Jack, you're wanted. Dead or alive." 

"Then leave with me. We can live from town to town, they'll never find me." Rick grabbed your upper arms to show the desperation of the coyote. 

"But what if they do ?" 

"I won't let 'em." 

"Cut !" The director shouted. "That was great Y/N." You lowered your head as a 'thank you' as you wiped the water from your eyes. 

You turned to look at Cliff who was leaning on the wall. His eyes were fixed on you, but he kept quiet. 

"You're hired !" Max said suddenly. It was unusual to be hired on audition day, even you knew that. 

"Mr. Blythe, you can't just hir-" An intern tried speaking but was stopped by the artist. 

"The studio gave me full creative liberties. If I want to hire an actress on the spot, I will. No matter how late she showed up." 

As the executives discussed, you decided to approach Cliff, against your better judgement considering the news you'd just gotten about him. 

"Anyone tell you you're a pretty good at this ? Maybe you should become an actress." 

"Never." You said with fake-shock, but you were unusually neutral. 

Cliff could tell something was different. "What's up ?" He asked bluntly. 

You hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. "Listen, after her outburst, Frances told me some pretty nasty stuff about you." 

He sighed, knowing exactly what the talent agent had done. "It ain't true." He answered plainly. 

"Uh huh ?" You looked up at him, unable to say anything. 

"She fell. The coroner said so himself after lookin' at the wound. There's no way I, or anyone else, could've done that to her. Can't argue with the law." His tone was the most serious you'd ever heard it. "You know how fast rumours spread here." 

He looked down to make direct eye-contact with you, trying to reassure you. 

Something in you was telling you he was being truthful. He was right, rumours spread easily and get disproportionate in Hollywood. But then again, if he was guilty, you'd doubt he'd admit to it. You decided not to think with your brain for now and just hoped you wouldn't be the next one found stabbed. 

"Franny's never liked me." 

"So you know each other ?" You leaned your shoulder against the wall, facing him. 

"Well, I presume you know about your manager's failed acting career ?" His demeanour went back to its usual cheerfulness. "Back in the day, maybe 15 or 20 years ago, when you were just a baby, I accidentally fell on her during a stunt." You dismissed his comment about your age and focused on the story he was telling. 

He could tell from your expression that you were holding in a laugh. "Tell me about it." 

"We were filming this time-period drama. Fancy suits and what not. Anyways, I was supposed to jump off this two story building, but I somehow missed the safety net at the bottom and landed right on an extra. Just so happened to be your dear Frances. She wasn't hurt or anything, but you know her, she holds grudges." 

"God, knowing her she probably blames you for ruining her career." You joked. 

"Well, if that's the case, I'm glad I missed the stunt that day. You wouldn't be here otherwise. Could almost say I'm the cause of your success." 

"And I'm so forever grateful Cliff." You said as you comically batted your eyelashes. 

He noticed the way you'd finally called him by his first name. "It's no problem, darlin'." 

Your conversation stopped once Maxwell stood in the middle of the room and announced that you would all start shooting in two days. You could see the executives behind him, disapproving and scrambling to find a way to make this work. You knew this was going to be a crazy experience. The director dismissed everyone and as you made your way towards the exit you could hear him arguing with producers. 

Cliff and Rick followed after you. As you reached the entrance, Cliff extended his arm to push the door open, all while staying behind you, getting quite close to your back in the process. 

After only a few steps on the pavement, Frances came running back to you. But her attention was on the man accompanying you. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing ?" Your manager asked, her tone frustrated. 

"Working." Cliff answered, not even bothering to look at her as he placed his sunglasses back on his face. 

"I'll be in the car." Dalton muttered to his friend as he placed a cigarette between his lips and quickly left. 

Frances looked to you for an explanation. She was practically red. 

"Rick Dalton is the lead for Coyote's Gambit, so he and Cliff were at the audition." 

"Cliff ? You're on first name basis with that idiot ?" 

"Well, we're gonna be working together for a few weeks, so get used to it." Cliff said to the woman.

She slightly calmed down, understanding that you had managed to land the role. "Oh, thank God." She huffed as she looked up at the sky. "My hard work is paying off." 

You didn't comment on her last words, she was starting to get on your nerves. 

"Listen, Fran, I can surround myself with who I want." You said, bringing up your previous topic of conversation. 

"No, Y/N, you can't. You've got to understand that surrounding yourself with certain people is career suicide." 

"Thanks." Cliff said sarcastically. 

"But-" 

"Our contract states I can make these kinds of decisions for you, so I better not see you two chattering again or I will sue." Frances said, dead serious. She didn't let either of you answer back as she tightly grabbed your wrist to bring you far away from the stuntman. 

Frances had a way of over exaggerating things. Although it is possible to sue someone for breach of contract, you refused to believe she would take you to court for talking to a man. She didn't have the money and if she ruined your career by sending you to trial, she'd kill her cash cow. 

You looked back at Cliff. He gave you a 'eh, what can you do' look, regarding Frances' bad temper. He gave you a wink as he turned around to leave. 

You wondered if being around Cliff Booth was as much trouble as your agent made it out to be. Cliff was not blacklisted from Hollywood, he hadn't been sent to prison and people did not seem to act different around him from what you'd personally seen. You didn't want to stay away from him, and if you needed to lie to the woman who'd built your career, you would do so without a problem. 

The next two days could not pass fast enough. The old far west was the next place where you'd see Cliff Booth. 

[imagine-richards]

So

Hello

I’ve missed it here

I know I’ve been saying I’m coming back a lot but my university just closed for the rest of the year and I want to help as many people as I can, be it just with writing stories.

Please please send me any happy, positive requests you have and I’ll do my best to get to them all. I can’t help out with much, but a lot of you said my writing made you happy so I want to try and continue that in these trying times.

Please stay safe and I love you all,

Meg <3

[cliffbo0th]

just started writing an intense cliff booth x reader fanfic. would anyone be into reading it if I uploaded the first chapter? 😬

[demonofthechili]

Cliff Booth x Reader - Usual Answer

A/N: Based SOMEWHAT on my oc's (Sam's) backstory tweaked into an x reader! Enjoy!

T/W: Sexist 60s Hollywood, so... what you'd expect!

---

You had known Cliff for a while, and, even then, seeing him now (as of 1965) made you realise that people really do change. He was still Clifton Booth - endearing blue eyes and assuring smile and all- but at the same time, he just... wasn't.

He was familiar with you, and sought you out when he wasn't needed in a car crash or dangerous, deadly fall. He introduced you to Rick, who you were familiar with due to Bounty Law, and invited you for a drink every now and then after the shooting day was over.

A man of ease despite the hand life had forced upon him, and a man of surprising restraint considering what he was capable of, Cliff had surely matured since you last met again a few years ago. Maybe the better word was 'mellowed'.

Or maybe, just maybe, you had grown bitter.

You were a stunt double, and a woman stunt double at that; rejection was the name of the game, even if it didn't make sense.

"It's a man's profession, (Y/N)," A stunt coordinator had tried to delicately justify his reason to deny you from filming. "Just... try the makeup trailer again. You were good at that last time."

Another had laughed, thinking it was a joke. That hurt more than words.

You had given up, fuelled mainly by your most recent rejected proposal: a movie required a stunt double for one of the actresses, and you had happily offered. Hell, the director backed you up... but alas, the answer was a patronising explanation as to why that wasn't reasonable.

Was it fair to be envious of Cliff when the matter was so clearly not in his grasp? Of course not, you weren't stupid. But as you sat there on the hood of your car with him at your side, you found it hard not to think that way.

"Uh, can I help you?" Cliff asked with raised brows, can of beer in his hand raised to his lips, hovering there as he waited for a reply.

"What?" You replied quickly, not aware that you had apparently been staring in silence for... however long. "Help me with what?"

"You can tell me," He took a sip, small smile faltering at his lips, "Are you alright, (Y/N)?"

You considered lying, but Cliff gave off a comforting aura. As if you'd always be protected or saved. Maybe it was that dazzling confidence.

"I got rejected," You took a long sip of your own beer, "Again."

"Aw, c'mon," Cliff sounded genuinely upset by this news. "What'd he say?"

"The usual shit, man. What do you think?"

"I thought the, uh, director was gonna help you?"

"He did. The answer was still the usual," Lowering the can to your lap, you looked down, placing a hand onto the hood between yourself and Cliff, "I think I'm going to call it here."

"What do you mean? You're going to let him make you quit for good?"

When you nodded, he looked borderline offended. As if you had just said the worst thing he could hear. In a big way, you did.

"You're a great stunt double, better than a lot of the guys I know. Safer, too. You deserve to be throwing yourself off of tall shit, the same as me," He paused as you chuckled, finding satisfaction in such a thing. "I'm serious. You do. You need to be, uh, like the stuntwoman version of Martin Luther King."

"Jesus Christ," You finally spoke, that comparison not allowing you to stay quiet anymore. "That's a big stretch, but I appreciate your point. Fight the good fight, and all that shit."

He gave a chuckle of agreement, nodding as he allowed the moment to settle. He looked your way once more, and moved to place a careful hand upon yours on the hood, just in case you wanted to pull away.

In that moment, you thought it'd be okay. That you had a chance. You'd be that stuntwoman Martin Luther King, or cry trying.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Beach Day (Cliff Booth x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @usedupstickyhand @tealaquinn @frozenhuntress67 @juxt4p0siti0n @kwyloz @what-the--curtains @taikawho __________________ Summer, 1970 You'd known Rick and Cliff for some time now. Years, actually. You'd actually lost track of how many productions you'd done together. All three of you were winding down at Rick's. He was, of course, making margaritas in the kitchen. Over the TV, the blender, and his incessant muttering rehearsal of loose lines, he couldn't hear you and Cliff. "So what's got you all worried like that?" "What? Nothing!" You laughed, as you took a sip of what remained of your margarita. Cliff stared at you. It was basically an insult. He knew when you were lying, and you definitely knew that.

"It's nothing, I swear." "Y/n." He laughed a little, "Ain't much you could say that would change a thing." "Forget it," you shook your head with a sigh, laughing at yourself. "Can't be more embarassing than Rick loosin' his license....again." You glanced to the kitchen, but...he definitely didn't hear. You chuckled, giving in, "Fine, fine." You took a breath, "I can't swim." "So?" "So? So...I have to swim on that scene we're shooting on Monday..." "So tell-" He cut himself off. He was going to sugggest you tell the director...but knowing you, you wouldn't. Number one, he could tell you were pretty embarassed about it, though he couldn't really understand why. Second, he knew you were one dedicated actress, hardly ever demanding a change to the script, or conceding to getting a stand in or double. He sighed, "I can teach you." "Really?" Your eyes lit up and you smiled that smile...The one that had melted Cliff's heart every single time he saw it, from the day he met you.

He nodded, his voice suddenly soft, "Really." Rick emerged from the kitchen with a tray filled with margaritas, just in time for that night's episode of Bounty Law, chuckling, "Show time!" He sat between you and Cliff. Being Rick...he could be a bit clueless. But, if he knew how you felt about Cliff...and if he knew how Cliff felt about you, he definitely wouldn't have sat there. If he knew, he might've just excused himself for the night. But, the three of you sat together, just as you'd done for years. You and Cliff stayed over, and woke up a little hungover, but earlier than Rick. "Come on," Cliff put on his shades, as he headed toward the door. "Where we goin'?" "Swimmin'." He smiled as he got his keys. "But...the pool's...there..." "We ain't goin' to the pool." You followed him curiously, and soon found yourselves at the beach. He kept you laughing the whole way, but the moment you saw the waves, you felt a knot of dread. "Those waves are a little..um..." Cliff turned to you, his hand rested on yours unexpectedly, "I ain't gon' let anything happen to you. Promise." His smile was warm, and you sighed, feeling better. You walked through the sand. It was fairly empty, since it was early morning, and the day wouldn't be too hot. You stopped in a spot where the waves wouldn't reach to leave your things. Cliff took off his hawaiian shirt,  his shades, and his shoes, as you followed suit. He took your hand, going toward the shore. The cool pacific water instantly sent a shiver up your spine, "Damn it's cold!" "Ah, it's fine!" He raced in, and you followed. The water was about at his knees, but halfway up your thighs. His hands were at his hips as he looked out to the sea, "Ready?" "Ready as I'll ever be." He smiled softly, taking your hand as waves  swayed past you. Before you knew it, you were hardly able to keep your head above water, and you panicked. "Hey! You're alright," Cliff quickly reached for you, and you immediately calmed down. "Don't panic, just...fuck it. Know what the hippies say about going with the flow? This is the one time they're right." His laugh eased you as he slowly let go of you again. No matter how patient he was, and how much time you spent out there, you couldn't get the hang of it. By noon, you'd just about given up. "I'm never gonna get it, Cliff. I'm j-" A big wave suddenly hit you, and Cliff reached for you, grabbing your waist, holding you up. "You ok?" "I'm wasting your time." He shook his head, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be..." He hadn't let go as quickly as he had before. In fact, when he said that, his hold on you seemed to tighten. You leaned a little closer to him, and he met you halway with a kiss. He smiled a little into the kiss at the end, mumbling, "See? Not so bad..." You smirked with a blush, "Not bad at all..." By the end of the day, you were tired, and Cliff was fairly sunburnt... But you could definitely get through that scene without a problem. He drove you home, but was a little quiet on the way. The kiss was impromptu, along with the entire day... but... it was something you'd dreamed of for a long time. He pulled into the drive way of your place, just a few blocks away from Rick's place.  He sighed, keeping his hands to the steering wheel. "Y/n...about today...I didn't-" You kissed him again. You meant it. He smiled in relief, and you winked as you got out of the car. "See ya tomorrow." "We don't have work tomorrow," you reminded him, but he was a step ahead, as always. "Call it a date?" He winked and you laughed, and nodded, "Noon?" He nodded with a smile, as he drove out. "Noon."