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OKAY BUT OKAY OKAY OKAY. BUT. HCS FOR WORKING WITH LARRY BECAUSE THE TENSION WOULD BE !!!!!!!!!!! YOU KNOW
WORKING WITH MR. WHITE...
F!Reader!
A/N: Sorry this took so long, bitch! Here's some fellow criminals being bros, with a healthy dose of sexual tension!
---
Larry is, first and foremost, a gentleman. He definitely started his criminal career in the shadow of, and around, gentleman criminals. He definitely still holds those old school values to heart.
As such, he's polite and helpful. Offering to light your cigarette if you smoke/offer you one of his, holding the door to a building for you, opening the car door for you, etc. All with a smile that reaches his eyes and is never directed to anyone else you're working with.
It also makes him overwhelmingly charming. Despite how rugged he can sometimes be, especially if you're on the banterous, less feminine side, he always has this air of control about him.
Like the time Larry thought someone was being genuinely rude to you, and he immediately rushed to your defence; he made them apologise and then placed a gentle, warm hand on your knee under the table whilst telling you to ignore the other guy. You definitely didn't tell him how that made you feel.
When Larry talks to you about business, he stands incredibly close. Close enough that you can feel his body heat and smell his expensive cologne. His voice goes quiet, and if you're in public, he'll lean down and speak lowly in your ear.
A lot of the time, he stays close beside you after the conversation is finished... and then you notice he starts staying close to you even when you're not directly talking.
He sits next to you, stands beside you, and keeps an eye on you. You've caught him a few times gazing at you from across the room, and you're always the first to look away.
You ask him once why that is, and he replies that "someone's gotta look out for you around these dogs". He smiles at you afterwards, eyes twinkling. There's silence, and you swear, for a second, that he's going to go for a kiss. But then he tells you to hurry up into the car because he wants food.
On one job, everyone has to room up together. Unbeknownst to you, Larry fixes it so that you're rooming with him instead of anyone else. It's the first time you see him in anything other than his "work" clothes, and the way he makes casual conversation whilst you're fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a towel has you questioning some things about your professionalism.
Lingering touches happen a lot with Larry, too. Whether he's lighting your cigarette and cradling your hands, cradling the small of your back and guiding you through a crowd, or offering a hand when you exit a car and holding you for a few moments too long, he seems to always be the first one to offer himself to you.
Pet names from Larry? Absolutely! If you've worked together for years now and have a repetoir, he'll happily call you honey, sweetheart, or babe. While it started off as a joke, the way he murmurs "careful, honey" into your ear in passing makes you think there's an ulterior motive... and makes you blush.
You never pay for drinks or food when you're with Larry, too. He also covers tips. He believes a lady should never pay, and that you're too pretty and he's blessed to be in your company, which is why you're not paying.
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HIIIII!!! Cliff x fellow stuntwoman when??? Definitely not based on Sam (pretend I'm sending from @bangerwriting)
PREFERENCE / stuntwoman!reader x cliff booth (once upon a time in hollywood)
18+ MINORS DNI
cw: alcohol, smoking, a very mild hint of spice
a/n: girl ily and i'm sorry this took me so long to do i banged it out in one sitting so maybe it's a clusterfuck and i'm so sorry if it is
cliff is used to being unseen, lingering in rick's shadow and devoting all of his time and energy on the actor. sometimes the budding starlets flirt his way but he doesn't have much interest in them, he finds a lot of them to have no substance and cliff isn't one to put time into somebody he doesn't find that interesting
he wants a woman with a personality, a fire in her belly, somebody who can challenge him, who he can have a real conversation with and shared interests
stuntwomen in hollywood are few and far between, but along you came. he's immediately curious about you
he settles for stolen glances at first. cliff is aware of his reputation regarding what happened to his wife and he hopes you a) haven't heard those things or b) if you have, you don't believe the rumours
he's having a smoke on set when you approach him - "you're rick dalton's stunt double, right?"
he quirks a grin, mentally preparing for you to gush over rick. "that's right."
"i thought so. i'm a big fan of your work," you tell him, noticing the callouses in his hands, every crease in his face, your reflection in his sunglasses. he's more attractive up close
he's surprised and flattered at your response, stunned into silence for a few moments. usually the only people who were excited to see him were rick and brandy, and one of those wasn't even a person but his dog
he gives your body a once-over behind his sunglasses, grin spreading wider in approval. he thanks you in his thick accent, takes another drag of his cigarette, asks your name, how you're enjoying the work
it seems like being able to break your neck without actually breaking your neck wouldn't be a conventionally attractive quality. cliff loves it. you're badass and it gets him going. eyeing up the beautiful women of hollywood in their miniskirts and bikini tops was fun and all, but there's nothing better than a girl throwing herself around like a ragdoll and being able to not get hurt from it
mentioning you to rick, rick telling him to go for it, buddy
wandering around the set you're working on to see if he can watch you do your stunts, maybe catch you on a break so he has an excuse to talk to you
cliff is older, he assumes you wouldn't be all too interested in him. it doesn't stop him from asking to go out for a drink after you've spoken a few times. if he wants to be more casual about it, he might say he's going out for drinks with rick and would you like to join?
it probably blooms into a friendship first, no pressure, just bonding over your shared line of work
at the wrap party for the film you both get wasted, you already made a point of sitting at his table and rick tactically left you two together under the guise of 'i'm goin' outside for some fresh air"
a drunken hint that he's into you, "y'wanna come to my place and i'll show you my bike, she's a goddamn beauty"
an unspoken tension, an agreement between you both, lord knows he's thought about you late at night or in the shower and that went both ways. he's been on your mind, your curiosity gnawing at you, wondering what he's like in the sack. experienced, probably.
he follows up on his offer, showing you his bike, introduces you to his dog, too, then offers you a beer. but not really, because he doesn't mean a beer, he means something more. that one little thing that's been niggling at you both, and after a silent moment of staring at each other through out of focus, drunken eyes, you finally collide in a kiss. the trailer shakes that night
PLEASE anything for rick, hc preference of a fic ♥️♥️ you’re incredible at writing for him
Rick Dalton — Pursuing a Fellow Actress who's immune to his charm...
Rick is a man who's used to women throwing themselves at him. But when you come along and don't fall for his charm? Well, he's smitten.
You're hired to play the role of Rick's character's love interest. You're a fan of his from the start, so you're immediately warm and welcoming when you meet.
Rick thinks you're drop dead gorgeous the moment he lays eyes on you.
His plan starts the same as it ever does; be charming, bank on his fame and popularity, and suck you in.
But this isn't your first rodeo, or acting gig. You happily talk to him, but you're cautious... and you refuse his advances.
The first time you walk away with a wave and 'see you tomorrow!', Rick can't believe it. He stands in the car park, alone and staring at you as you drive away.
It's Cliff he tells first, incredulous as he tells him how you walked away. And it's Cliff who hits him with a laugh and the words that kickstart his spiral:
"You've met your match, buddy."
While it was meant as a joke, Rick couldn't help but dwell on it. All night he thought about it until he devised a plan.
Next day on set, Rick played it more casual.
You noticed the change immediately. And you found it funny.
You knew about Rick's reputation, so it wasn't unexpected. In a way, you found it endearing.
But still, you didn't return anything he offered. Even when you were rehearsing your kissing scene, you held firm.
The second time you walk away with a wave and grin, Rick is filled with determination.
His chat with Cliff is less annoyed ramblings and instead more hopeful. By the end of it, he realises he actually likes the fact that you're not throwing yourself at him.
It makes him feel like he did pre-fame. When he could walk down the street and not get recognised and life was simpler.
For the duration of your shooting together, Rick tries different approaches.
The charm comes back, but goes the same day.
He tries to act entirely disinterested, but then you ask him to eat lunch together with that smile of yours and he cracks.
He even tries inviting you out for a drink one Friday after filming, but fumbles when you place a hand on his arm and instead asks what your favourite drink is.
He ends up buying you a bottle and gifts it to you on your next day of filming together.
Finally, he uses Cliff as a wingman. But you and his buddy actually get along like a house on fire. It annoys him at first, until he realises what Cliff is doing.
You start hanging out with Cliff, and by extension, him, most days on set after that.
Having Cliff around to provide some banter and support, the real Rick starts to shine through.
Quickly, you realise you actually like the Rick who is just being himself. His stutter surprises you, and his embarrassment the first few times it slips out warms you from head to toe.
You barely even notice the day that Cliff doesn't join you two for your usual lunch time chatter. You're too caught up in whatever story Rick has from a weekend of drinking recently to question where Cliff is.
You begin to notice how your more intimate scenes leave you with a feeling of... butterflies. That's the best way you can explain it.
It's the way, before filming starts for the scene, he gives you a genuine smile and some small words of encouragement.
That continues until the final day of shooting; by the end of the whole thing, you find yourself blushing before each take and struggling to hold eye contact. You even start giggling at his jokes.
You don't even remember the last time you giggled.
The final time you say your farewell in the parking lot, you give Rick a kiss on the cheek before turning to walk to your car.
He watches you dumbly, as he did the first time. But this time, however, he lets you take only three steps before he calls out your name.
"Want to have a-a-a-a-a wrap-up drink?"
His nerves are damn near palpable in the air. You turn to look at him with that sweet smile of yours and find yourself shyly nodding.
"I didn't think you'd ask!" You say with a pep in your step as you walk back over to him.
You don't give him a chance to worry about your car. By the time he realises you've said yes, you're already halfway to his car.
And for the first time in a long time, Rick feels truly accomplished.
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SYNOPSIS: You're a Donut Dolly who comes to the firebase Barnes' and Elias' platoons are currently stationed. While some of them like you, one has his hackles up... and takes your arrival less than well.
WARNINGS: Barnes being an asshole (like a mega one), threatening the reader, general Vietnam War vibes.
You thanked the helicopter pilot as he helped you off of the dinged up Huey, his smile charming albeit nervous. He managed not to stumble over his words as the other girls behind you were assisted off and to the ground, thanking you in return and wishing you a good visit to the firebase.
In a trio of baby blue, you and the two others were escorted onto base. The moment you breached the entrance, your sights were already scanning the area; you each noted groups of soldiers, silently deciding who was going to programme with who.
While you should have headed straight for the Red Cross tent, you all decided that you should begin to be acquainted with the men before chow time and before the evening. After all, how else would you be able to plan accordingly for a party — or indeed get out of writing letters home, of which you had already been neglectful due to how busy you were.
While the other two women opted to go together, you decided to go it alone. With a beaming grin towards your friends, you parted ways and headed for the group which had initially caught your eye.
Having all eyes on you wasn't new. No, for many, if not all of them, you were the first Donut Dolly and round-eyed girl they had seen since their service began. You were far more put together than the combat nurses you'd seen at other bases. Hell, your baby blue dress and white pumps was enough to raise an eyebrow regardless of the situation.
As you neared your targets, you noted the one man among them who decidedly took a step away. You tried not to follow him with your head, or eyes, as he removed himself completely, taking to lean against one of the poles which erected their bunks.
He was scarred, a look which twisted your stomach — it was surprise, mainly. And maybe a little unease. You had never seen such injury, and let alone on such an intense face.
The others, however, greeted you as many did; nervous smiles, excitement contained behind quiet nodding, and trying to suppress the foul language they felt wasn't fit for a lady to hear.
As you introduced yourself and sat down to talk, you quickly realised that you had made the correct call. These men were lovely, each in their own right, and happily went along with whatever topic you asked about, even cracking jokes that you may not have found funny, but politely chuckled at all the same.
The Sargent, who insisted you call him Elias, was warm and lead the conversation. Chris was relatively new to country by Vietnam standards, and was easy to talk to. The one they called Bunny was certainly the most forward to you, but it was nothing that made you uncomfortable (and something you expected). And Red was enthusiastic, someone who you knew would try and excel at the games you had with you.
But the outlier? Nobody had mentioned him, let alone so much as glance at him since you sat down. If you were greener, you would have felt bad. But he was one of the many who simply stood at a distance, opting to watch and listen instead of participating. You realised it was nerves a lot of the time. The GIs didn't tend to approach you first.
But the scarred man, who's insignia presented him as a Sargent? You had a feeling it was neither nerves nor confusion. No, the vibe he gave off was one you got commonly enough to identify — anger. Annoyance. He didn't want you there.
When the conversation got comfortable enough that the men were cracking jokes at you directly, you finally decided to breach the subject of the brooding superior.
"Your other Sargent has a stick up his ass, doesn't he?" You dared through a bright smile and giggle, hoping they'd appreciate something un-lady-like coming from your pretty mouth.
Their reactions, however, were split right down the middle. Elias and Chris laughed in agreement, but Red and Bunny sent disapproving looks between each other and fell silent. It's not the first time you had overstepped saying such a thing, but you still felt the awkward pang in your stomach that took the words from your throat.
"Don't take it to heart." Elias began, ignoring Bunny and Red. "Barnes just doesn't know how to act around women."
"I'll say." Chris muttered in agreement.
"Guys." Red spoke then, half scolding and half... worried? You swore there was fear in his voice. "C'mon."
"You scared, Red?" Elias teased, to which Red, to save face in front of you and Chris mainly, hesitantly scoffed.
"No."
"Okay, gentlemen," You said suddenly as you stood, smoothing out your dress as you went, "I'm going to get myself situated and I'll see you later."
Wanting to get as far away from that discussion as possible before it spiralled, you bowed your head in a farewell. But Bunny took it as an invitation, rushing to his feet.
"I'll walk with you!" He beamed, and you didn't have it in you to say no to his excitement.
"We're having a party tonight, if you want to come?" Elias asked quickly before you could respond to Bunny, and this time everyone looked at you expectantly.
Including Sgt. Barnes.
"I'd love to!" Your answer was genuine, excitement spilling over and giving all of the men their smiles back.
You looked over to Barnes then, swallowing thickly as your eyes met his narrowed. The intensity had goosebumps blistering across your sweaty skin, prompting you to look away and instead nod at Bunny. You bid everyone goodbye and headed off to find the Red Cross tent.
After getting situated and eating alongside the men in the chow hall, you and the other women got ready for the various parties that were happening on base. Truthfully, this was one of your favourite parts of being a Donut Dolly — minus raising the morale of the soldiers, of course.
Your family had sent you a few dresses as per your request, and tonight you opted to wear a yellow and black mod dress. It was the newest addition to your small closet, from some London designer you had never heard of but your mother swore by. Truthfully, it fit you well.
And judging by the gushing of the other girls and a few glances from soldiers on guard duty, everyone else thought so, too. Though you mainly chalked it up to confidence.
Once again you went it alone, promising the girls that you would join them at the Officers' party soon but that you had promised Elias you'd show up to something else. They understood, telling you not to get involved with enlisted men (with a nudge and a wink, of course).
You got just into the darkness of the strangely empty camp when a dark silhouette blocked your path. You damn near jumped out of your skin, a shrill gasp being swallowed by the sullen lack of joy in the figure's appearance.
As your eyes adjusted, you managed to make out the moon's reflection on a scarred face. Barnes in all of his glory, fatigue jacket removed and leaving him in his olive coloured shirt.
As you stared up at him, and him down at you, you swore his eyes glinted red in the pale moonlight.
"You scared me half to death!" You attempted to joke, hoping that making light of the situation would break down whatever wall he had up.
But, no. If anything it seemed to make it worse. His head tilted just a fraction, something you would have missed if not hypervigilant due to fearing for your life.
"What're you playin' at?" His voice was even, as if he wasn't pissed beyond belief. As if he wasn't tearing you apart from the soul out.
"I-I'm sorry?" Your brows furrowed, stutter involuntary as your brain struggled to comprehend his blatant accusation.
"This Donut Dolly shit." He gave a small gesture at you, as if you were still wearing your uniform. As if you weren't standing right there. "What're you playin' at?"
Your mouth ran dry, and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights. Fear constricted your throat as Barnes' unwavering stare kept boring into you, offering no reprieve. Never before had you been questioned about your role in-country. At least never to your face.
"I'm here to help." You said simply, voice quiet, reserved, hesitant.
"How're you doin' that? You fixin' these men up?" He took a step towards you, to which you remained planted where you were. When you didn't reply, he continued: "You think my men wanna be seein' you on base?"
"Many find us pleasant to have around. A-A-A reminder of home." You tried to sound assertive, you did. But he was now close enough that you swore you could feel his body heat.
"Remindin' us of home... y' think my men want to remember what they're missin' even more than they already do?" Barnes scoffed. "Doris from next door ain't what we need. Better facilities, new equipment — that's what we need."
"I'm sorry I can't help you more." You attempted to appeal to his beliefs, but was genuine in that sentiment. "I just want to give your men a taste of home. Like, uh, a rest from what's happening."
Barnes was silent then, examining you intensely. He searched your gaze, the makeup on your moonlit face. He leaned down enough that his hit breath fanned your face, scars unavoidable (had he noted you trying not to look?).
"Listen t' me, Donut Dolly. Stay away from my men." His brows lowered a fraction more as you stared, unblinking, up at him. His voice turned to a whisper. "Understood?"
"Yes." You whispered in reply, surprised he even heard you.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
He nodded then, as if in approval, before straightening back up. "You're an attractive girl. Watch yerself."
Your mouth opened to question what he meant, but nothing came out. You watched him turn stiffly and walk back to wherever he had come from. Subconsciously, you leaned forwards to follow his path, and you caught the exact moment he was encased in shadow and gone from view.
You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, a shaky hand straightening out your dress. Glancing around, weary of his threat or warning, you picked back up on your journey to join Elias' party.
Truthfully, you'd definitely be considering leaving 'his' boys alone for the duration of your stay. Even if it did go against your personal beliefs.
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