#but uh... the scene setting is important for me.

[bodybaggage]

The Dan-Tastic Disaster

When the JL is stuck on babysitting duty until Danny shows up

———

It started like any other Justice League meeting, with Batman brooding in the corner, Superman standing confidently at the head of the table, and Wonder Woman calmly preparing for the mission briefing. What none of them expected was to be dealing with a de-aged, ghostly child with the potential to end worlds.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Superman asked, glancing down at the toddler perched on the conference table, currently gnawing on a metal batarang like it was a teething ring.

"Safe?" Batman muttered, rubbing his temples. "No. Manageable? Hopefully."

Dan Phantom—or what was left of him in his current toddler form—looked innocent enough at first glance. Bright green eyes, tiny fists gripping onto Batman’s cape like a security blanket, a cute little tuft of white hair curling above his head. But the Justice League had been briefed on his true nature. He was Danny Phantom’s evil future self, de-aged through some cosmic mishap. And now, thanks to fate or terrible luck, they were babysitting.

"Up! Up!" Dan suddenly demanded, lifting his tiny hands towards Superman.

Superman, always the gentle giant, smiled softly. “Okay, little guy. Let’s—OW!”

The moment Superman picked him up, Dan burst into green flames, scorching Superman's red cape and singeing his hair. The Kryptonian tried to gently pat out the fire, but Dan just giggled mischievously and floated upwards, still burning, as Superman’s cape disintegrated into ashes.

“I’ll just… get another cape,” Superman mumbled, resigned.

Wonder Woman knelt down, observing the floating toddler with the curiosity of someone about to embark on an epic quest. “He reminds me of the young warriors of Themyscira,” she said, a glimmer of fondness in her eyes. “Strong, brave, and full of fire.” Literally.

She offered him a soft smile. “Little one, let me tell you a tale from my youth, of the Amazons and their triumph over the beasts of the land.”

Dan floated down toward her, his eyes glowing with interest for all of three seconds before he grabbed her lasso and swung from it like a child on a tire swing. "Wheeeeee!"

Wonder Woman blinked. “He is… very enthusiastic.”

Meanwhile, Batman was in the corner, already furiously texting Danny Phantom on his encrypted Bat-phone. URGENT: Toddler version of evil future self setting things on fire. Please advise.

Danny’s response pinged back almost immediately: Good luck! Don’t let him touch anything sharp or made of explosives. Be there soon-ish.

Batman scowled at the "soon-ish." The last thing they needed was “soon-ish.” They needed now.

"Uh, Bruce," Superman said, nervously eyeing Dan, who had now decided that the perfect place to hide was inside a control panel. "He’s touching the lasers."

Batman swiveled around just in time to see the Watchtower's interior light up in bright neon green flashes. Every screen blinked with static, and the alarm system activated. Dan was just... pressing buttons. Randomly. While humming a tune and still floating lazily around, now wearing Wonder Woman’s tiara on his head.

"Dan," Batman said in the tone reserved for criminals, children, and now, apparently, demonic ghost toddlers. "Get out of there."

Dan paused, looking Batman straight in the eye, and gave the kind of evil grin only a future supervillain could pull off. He slammed his tiny fist into the panel, causing every door in the Watchtower to open and close in a chaotic frenzy. Somewhere, the coffee machine exploded.

“Great Hera,” Wonder Woman murmured, eyeing the scene with wide-eyed awe. “He is... relentless.”

“He’s a menace,” Batman grumbled, already trying to recalibrate the systems on his wrist computer.

Superman, ever the optimist, decided to take a different approach. "Dan, how about we go play somewhere that isn’t full of very important and dangerous equipment?"

Dan looked at Superman for a long moment, then reached out and ignited Superman’s other cape. Superman sighed. “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

Before Batman could further escalate into his “silent looming” tactic (which, thus far, had only led to Dan giggling and calling him “funny bat man”), Danny Phantom finally phased through the wall. He was panting, his hair tousled, clearly in a hurry.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Danny said, hands up. “I had to deal with this whole thing with the Ghost Zone and—oh, wow. He’s already set things on fire? That was fast.”

Batman gave him a look. The kind that promised revenge if Danny didn’t take care of this immediately.

“Oh yeah, he’s... a handful,” Danny said, scooping up the toddler, who immediately stopped causing chaos and instead tugged at Danny’s hoodie. “I told Clockwork it was a bad idea to leave him with you guys, but you know how he is.”

Batman raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me Clockwork is responsible for this?”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, casually flipping Dan upside down, which somehow made the toddler laugh instead of scream. “Said it would ‘build character’ or something. No idea what that means.”

Wonder Woman glanced between the now-quiet Dan and the previously-chaotic Watchtower, eyebrow raised. “And what, exactly, are we meant to learn from this?”

Danny shrugged, adjusting Dan like a backpack. “Patience? Endurance? Definitely not fire safety, though.”

Superman, cape now a pile of ash on the floor, simply chuckled. “Well, it was... eventful.”

“I’m just glad the Watchtower is still standing,” Batman muttered, already mentally drafting the report about the damage.

Danny grinned, patting Batman on the back. “You did great! You didn’t even let him explode anything. That’s a win in my book.”

As Danny started phasing through the walls with a happy toddler on his back, Wonder Woman watched them go, a soft smile on her face. “He truly has a way with him, doesn’t he?”

Superman nodded, glancing down at the remains of his cape. “Yeah. But next time, he’s babysitting.”

Batman, deadpan as ever, just sighed. "There won't be a next time."

[cosyvelvetorchid]

For One Night Only.. Maybe chapter 6 is up!

Read on Ao3 or below.

This chapter includes a song (I'll embed it in the chapter) and I definitely recommend listening to it when the time comes to really feel the moment. The song was the inspiration for the chapter itself as I had the scene in mind that it plays over in my head before the rest of the chapter.

Anyway, Enjoy!

🩶

Rating: G (for this chapter)

W/C: 4,126

Summary:

Buck and Tommy got to the charity auction and both try to keep calm in each other presence.

**********

Buck was in hell. Delicious and beautiful and torturous hell. 

Something had happened when he saw Tommy in that suit. A switch was flipped and now it was all he could think about. 

Before, though he found Tommy attractive and felt something for him that was beyond just friendship, he could push that aside for the sake of their friendship. It was the bigger picture and more important. But now, even though that was still true, seeing him look like that unleashed something hot and burning in his belly. 

He was attracted to Tommy. 

They hadn’t seen each other in well over a week due to opposing shifts and for once Buck had been grateful for that. How was he going to be able to look the man in the eye, pretend to be his boyfriend and not want to rip his clothes off?

He felt like a horny teenager all over again. And it sucked. 

Tommys name appeared on his phone and Bucks heart rate immediately went up. He considered not answering it.

“Uh, h-hey, Tommy.”

“Hey. I just wanted you to check in and make sure you’re still coming tonight? Clara is up my ass about it.” 

Buck huffed a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good. And you better stick with me the whole night—I do not want to be left alone with any of Clara’s friends.”

“That bad?” 

“Worse. If it’s not the widows trying to flirt with me, it’s the married ones trying to set me up with their daughters.” He explained. 

“They don’t know you’re gay?” 

“Oh they know, they just think it’s because I haven’t found the right girl.” He said. 

“Oh.” He said in a disgusted tone. 

“Yeah. So, be prepared for my arm to be around you most of the night.” 

Bucks stomach swooped hard at the thought of that. All he had done for the last 10 days was imagine Tommys arm around him, and his hands on him and don’t even get him started on what he was imagining Tommy doing with his mouth. 

Part of the exhilaration he was feeling was because he’d never truly let himself fantasise about a man before. He’d never been with a man so had no frame of reference for what it would be like. This meant that all he had to rely on was his imagination. And his imagination was running wild. 

“Uh, oh-okay.”

“Is that okay?” Tommy asked sensing apprehension in Bucks voice. “If you’re not comfortable-“

“No!” He said a little more loudly than he’d intended. “I mean it’s fine. I’m-I’m okay with that. If only to stop you ending the night with a rich, elderly fiancé.”

Tommy laughed. “I don’t know—being a toy boy sounds kind of fun.” 

“Really? I always thought you’d be more of the daddy type.” 

Buck wanted to hurtle himself out of his apartment window the second that sentence left his lips. He thanked god Tommy was on the phone and could see his beet red face. 

Tommy could picture Evan’s embarrassed facial expression right about now. Probably the same one he had when after his reaction to seeing Tommy in his suit. Tommy had pretended he hadn’t noticed so as not to embarrass Evan but it was hard to miss his eyes running up and down his body followed by him swallowing, then practically running away to the bathroom. 

He couldn’t deny that it made him feel good seeing Evan react to him that way. But as good as it felt, it was also confusing. He was so sure that Evan wasn’t interested in men at all so his reaction knocked Tommy off kilter somewhat. 

As for the daddy comment.. Evan wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Well they depends on who I’m with.” He responded and immediately covered his face with his hand not believing he’d admitted to that. “So did you manage to get the chief to agree to a ride-along?” He said in an attempt to change the subject. 

“Uh, yeah. Whoever has the best bid will get to spend a full day at the station, including lunch courtesy of Bobby and a ride-along.”

“Nice. We’re giving a tour of the station and then I’ll pilot a helicopter tour of L.A.”

“I wish I had enough to bid for that myself.” Buck said. 

“You don’t need money for that, Evan—I can take you up.” 

“Really?”

“Of course. Any time you wanna go up we can.” 

“I might take you up on that, then.” He said. 

“Do. If you bribe me sufficiently I might show you the secret place I like to fly to sometimes.”

“Oh really? What kind of bribe?” 

“Where’s the fun in telling you? I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Tommy replied. 

“Challenge accepted.” 

Tommy chuckled warmly. “I better go, I have some errands to run. I’ll come by to pick you up at 7.” 

“7 it is.” 

“See you later, Evan. We’ll see if your suit looks as good as mine.”

Tommy hung up before Buck had the chance to say anything back. And thank god because it definitely wouldn’t have been coherent. 

***

“Buck.” Josh greeted. “If you’re looking for your sister she’s not here—it’s her day off.”

“Uh, actually I-I came here to speak to you. Do you have a minute?” 

“Sure.” He gestured for Buck to follow him into the dispatch centre’s kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Thanks.”

Josh pulled out two mugs and filled them from the coffee pot. “So what can I do for you?” They sat down at the table opposite each other. 

“How do you know if a guy is into you?”

Josh opened his eye a little wider at the unexpected question. 

“Uh.. I mean there are a few ways. Why do you ask?” Buck looked across at him before looking away shyly. “Oh.” Josh said, realising. “I have to ask first—do you want them to be into you?” 

Buck waited a second before answering. “Uh, yeah. I do.” 

“Okay. And before we get into this, just so we’re on the same page here—does Maddie know?”

“Not really. I think she suspects, but I’ve not said anything specific.” He answered. Even if Maddie hadn’t given him that speech after Christmas about accepting who he was, he knew that she would have no problem with him liking a man. But still, she’d likely have questions and he wanted to answer his own questions before anybody else’s. 

“Well, I won’t say anything, if you’re worried.” 

“Thanks.” Buck smiled. 

“So, back to your question. Honestly, it depends on the guy. Some are unabashed and obvious and will straight up tell you they want you. Others, are a little more circumspect—it’s in the non verbal way they conduct themselves around you. Finding ways to touch you like brushing against your arm or removing a piece of lint from your clothing, stuff like that. Does this guy of yours do that?”

“Well, yeah, but..” 

“But what?”

“It's complicated." Buck said.

"It always is. Come on.. spill."

"We’re in a fake relationship.” 

Josh closed his eyes for a second “Okay you’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

Buck preceded to tell him about Clara and why he and Tommy were pretending to be together. 

“Okay, so what makes you think he might be into you for real?” Josh asked. 

“Some of things he says to me are when we’re alone and there’s no need to put on an act. And-and sometimes the way he looks at me.. it’s like he’s looking at me, ya know?” He sipped his coffee and sat back in his chair. “With women I know what I’m doing—I can spot their signals a mile away but with a guy..”

“You feel out of your depth.” 

“Yeah.” He said with a sigh. 

“Well, I’ve never met the guy so I can really tell you if he likes you or not. But—and though I would never take this advice myself because I’m more the suffer in silence type—your best bet is to talk to him. Tell him how you feel.” 

“What if I’m wrong?”

“What if you’re right?” Josh countered. “Look, in our line of work we see everyday just how short life is. Be brave. You might just get what you want.”

Buck nodded contemplating Josh’s words. Deep down he knew that talking to Tommy was the adult thing to do but his fear of rejection ran deep. 

“By the way, do you have a picture of this guy?” Buck raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’m curious!” 

Buck laughed and scrolled his camera roll to find a pic. He showed him one he’d taken on Christmas Day of Tommy in his “kiss the cook” apron and Santa hat that Buck had forced him to wear. 

“Okay, if you don’t talk to him, i will because good lord he is gorgeous!” 

Buck laughed. “Yeah, he’s-he’s something.” 

“Listen, I got to get back to work, but.. talk to him. At the very least you’ll know where you stand and that’s always a good thing.” 

***

Tommys last errand of the day was to stop by harbour station to pick up the envelope with auction donation details inside. 

“Kinard, what are you doing here?” Melton called across the hangar. 

“Picking up the donation for the auction.” 

“Ah. I think Donato has that upstairs. How’s your aunt doing by the way?” He asked. 

“She’s doing well. Had her 1 month post surgery check up yesterday and the doc is happy with her recovery so far.” 

Clara had actually taken Tommys words on board and did take it easy for a couple of weeks. She did of course complain the entire time but Tommy could handle that so long as she was behaving.

“That’s good to hear. You should definitely bring her by again sometime.” He suggested. 

“And have her embarrass me again? Yeah, no thanks. I’ll see you later, Melton.” He yelled over his shoulder as he walked through the door at the back of the hangar and up to the Harbor rec room. 

“Kinard!”

“Donato!” Tommy mimicked Lucy’s tone. She flipped him her middle finger. 

“You hear for the auction thingy?” She got up from the table and retrieved the envelope from one of the drawers in the kitchen.

“Thanks.” He said taking it. 

“How’s my favourite relative of yours doing?”

Tommy scoffed. “She my only relative and she’s doing good. Check up yesterday went well.” 

“Good. I love her.” 

“Only because she showed you those photographs of me as a kid.” Tommy reminded her. 

“Who knew little Tommy Kinard in a sailor suit would be so adorable.” She accentuated her point by pinching his cheek. 

“Get off.” He gently pushed her hand away. 

Lucy laughed. “So, you got a date for this shindig?”

“You trying to wrangle yourself a date? You know I don’t swing that way, Donato.”

“Ew, no!” She waved her hand. 

“I’m sorry—ew?” 

“What can I say—you don’t do it for me, sorry.” She explained. “And even if you did I wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those things.”

“It’s for charity.” Tommy reminded her. 

“I know. I’m charitable already—I donate to a bunch of different causes. I just don’t need to sit in a room full of rich people playing my yacht is bigger than your yacht to prove it.”

“Trust me I’d rather not have to wear a monkey suit and go either but I promised my aunt I would.” 

“You never answered my question—who are you taking with you?” 

“Evan.” He said simply. 

“Buckley?” She said in surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” She said knowingly. 

“What?”

“I just wouldn’t put you together as friends.” She said. 

“Why not?” 

“He’s a yapping golden retriever with a heart the size of Texas and abandonment issues the size of Mars, and you’re a stubborn and brooding pain in the ass.”

“Hey!” He protested. “I am not brooding!”

Lucy simply stared at him. 

“Yeah well.. you’re a closeted bisexual, with a chip on her shoulder, who’s practically in love with Nina from the coffee shop next door but is too afraid to ask her out.” Tommy smiled smugly. 

“I hope you shit yourself at this thing.” She said walking away. 

“I hope Nina poisons your coffee.” He threw back with a laugh. 

***

Buck looked over his outfit in his mirror. He’d opted for black pants and shirt, with a dark red velvet jacket with black lapel. He’d styled up his curls a little with product and if it matched Tommys curls then it was purely a coincidence. 

Despite his developing feelings for Tommy over the last 5 months he’d never felt the need to look good specifically for him. He’d always had a healthy confidence in his looks. But that was when he was dating, or wanting to date, women. 

It was entirely different when the man you’re crushing on looks like he came out of the cover of Men’s Health magazine. Or Lumberjack Monthly. He didn’t exactly feel inferior, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t compared himself to Tommy once or twice. 

A knock on his door sent his heart into his throat. 

This is ridiculous. You’ve been totally relaxed with Tommy for months. Just because you want his tongue in your mouth now doesn’t mean things can’t be just as normal with him.

A second knock on the door took him out of his personal pep talk. He brushed down his jacket with his hands one more time and opened the door. 

“Hey, Evan. You ready to-“ Tommys words caught in his throat at the sight of Evan in front of him. The dark red jacket was a perfect fit and those curls were doing something to him he wasn’t expecting. 

He looked unbelievably fucking gorgeous and Tommy was unbelievably in fucking trouble. 

He coughed. “The, uh.. the uber is waiting for us.” 

“I’m ready.” Buck said, grabbing his phone, wallet and keys.

***

The auction was held at a fancy hotel just outside the city limits. Their uber drove slowly up the long gravel driveway and around to the other side of the large fountain sat opposite the entrance. They got out of the car and began walking up the pristine red carpet. 

“Wow this really is fancy. Maybe I should have worn a tie.” Buck mused. 

“You look great as you are.” Tommy slid his hand into Bucks as they got closer to the doors. Buck had to concentrate really hard to keep the flush from spreading across his face. They walked inside to be met by a tall, thin man with an awful combover standing behind a large wooden podium. 

“Your names, Sirs?”

“Thomas Kinard and Evan Buckley.” Tommy answered. The man typed the names into the computer hidden behind the podium and hummed in satisfaction when he found their names. 

“Yes, I have found you both. It says here that you both have items to be donated to the auction.” He said with no movement in his facial expression. 

“Uh, we do. Yeah.” Buck replied and they both pulled out the envelopes and handed them to the man. 

“Thank you, Sirs. The auction is to be held in the Rose Ballroom.” He gestured in the direct of the ballroom. “Have a good evening, Sirs.” 

“Thank you.” Tommy replied. They walked through the door into a large ballroom with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers hanging down. A couple of dozen white clothed tables took over most of the room, each decorated with a large crystal vase full of various species of roses. 

They scanned the crowd of fancy suits and dresses for Clara and eventually spotted her leaning in and giggling with a man closer to Bucks age. 

“You can’t take this woman anywhere.” Tommy complained and Buck laughed. They made their way over to her and Tommy coughed to get her attention. 

“Tommy, darling!” She greeted him with a hug and kiss to the cheek. “Buck.” She said with a smile greeting him the same way. “Don’t you boys look so handsome!” She cooed. “I want to introduce you to my friend. This is David.” She gestured to the tall, slim blonde in a navy blue suit.” David this is my nephew Tommy and his boyfriend Buck.”

Tommy reached forward to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He said. David smirked as he shook Tommys hand staring him straight in the eyes. 

“Wonderful to meet you.” David replied smoothly. 

Buck reached to shake his hand too “Good to meet you.” David lightly shook his hand, barely looking at him before his attention went back to Tommy. 

“And what is it you do? Something physical I’m sure looking at you.” David asked, his eyes gazing over Tommys body. 

Buck felt a prickle of annoyance. Did he not hear Clara say that he was his boyfriend? He stepped closer to Tommy putting his arm around his waist from behind. “He’s a firefighter pilot.” He smiled proudly looking at Tommy before back at David. 

“Oh really?” David said, clearly impressed. “I’d love to hear more about that.” He smirked again. 

Was Buck invisible?! That prickling annoyance began to morph into a low level anger. Flirting with a guy when his boyfriend was right there?! 

“Maybe we should get something to drink, babe.” Buck suggested to Tommy, leaning into him a little more. He’d never used a pet name with Tommy before. Tommy had called him babe once and it made his stomach flutter. Tommy looked at him for a second, keeping Bucks eyes as a soft smile came across his mouth. 

“Of course, babe.” He winked and Buck almost collapsed. 

Tommy walked them away towards the bar and Buck couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder to throw a condemning look at David. It was entirely childish on his part and he knew it. 

***

The auction was in full swing. Then of thousands of dollars had been raised so far. All manner of things had been auctioned off so far including a day at the San Diego zoo including feeding some of the animals, a signed Taylor swift album, and a behind the scenes tour of the tv show Hotshots by their star actor Brad Torrance. 

“I think ours are last up.” Buck said reading at the brochure in hands. 

“I hope they go for a good amount.” Tommy said.

“I’m sure they will.”

Tommy looked at Buck for a moment before a devious look came across his face. 

“What?” Buck asked. 

“Wanna make this interesting?” He said leaning in closer. Buck could smell the spiced cologne that Tommy was wearing and his stomach swooped deeply enough that he briefly considered if he was going to vomit. “Whoever’s donation raises the least amount has to buy the other dinner.” 

Buck smiled. “You’re on. And just so you know I’m going to pick a really expensive place.” 

“Oh he’s so confident he’s gonna win, huh?” Tommy laid casually against the back of his chair, beer glass in hand. “Mine is a helicopter tour of L.A. Beats getting stuck on the 710 in traffic in an engine.” 

“Half the people in this room own their own helicopters—seeing us put out a real fire is far more exciting.” Buck retorted gleefully as he sat back himself. 

“Is that so?” Tommy said with a smirk and tilting his head. 

“It is so.” Buck smirked back. 

They both kept eye contact for a few seconds before the auctioneer began the bids for the engine ride along which got their attention. There was quite a lot of interest and it came down to two people. In the end, it was one of Clara’s friends that won the bid at $27,500—a gift for her firefighter obsessed grandson. 

Tommys helicopter ride was up next and his too got a lot of attention. 

“Sold for $26,250 to the gentleman at the back!”

“Yes!” Buck grinned. Tommy would be annoyed had it not been for the look of pure happiness on Evan’s face. 

With the auction now finished, the lights dimmed and music began playing louder. A few couples took to the floor to dance as staff began removing the auctioneers podium. 

“I guess I owe you a date, then.” Tommy leaned in and whispered over the music. He was testing the waters with that one. He wanted to see Evan’s reaction to the word “date.” It was a risk, Tommy knew that, and he knew it would probably be easier if he just asked Evan out but the thought of Evan just bluntly rejecting him was terrifying. This way he could say it was for their fake relationship if Evan questioned it. Was it childish and ridiculous? Absolutely. But it made sense to him at the time. 

Bucks grin faded into a softer smile as he looked at Tommy. 

“There you are. I can’t wait for my ride.” David’s voice interrupted. Buck willed his eyes to shoot lasers at the man and was disappointed when the man didn’t burst into flame. 

“Oh. You won the bid?” Tommy asked. 

“Of course I did.” David replied smugly. “Let me buy you a drink and we can discuss the details. 

“Actually.” Buck said loudly without thinking. “Tommy promised me a dance, so..” He looked at Tommy hoping he would go along. 

Tommy was admittedly a little amused by the annoyed look on Evan’s face. His pout was adorable. And definitely not something he could say no to. 

“I did.” He shrugged his shoulders and took Bucks hand, letting him lead him to the dance floor. 

[PLAY ME NOW]

‘Cry To Me’ by Solomon Burke began to play as Tommy took Bucks waist in his hands and Buck put his arms over Tommys shoulders. Their heads were side by side a few inches apart as they gently swayed. 

“I never knew you were the jealous type.” Tommy said into Bucks ear. 

“I-I’m not.” He argued. Buck felt Tommys shoulders twitch as he let out a laugh. “He-he was just- who flirts with someone when their boyfriend is right there?! It’s just rude.” 

“It is.” Tommy agreed as they continued moving gently with the music. “It was kinda cute though.” 

“What was?”

“Your jealousy.” 

“I-“ Buck gave up denying it and sighed. Tommy smiled to himself and wrapped his arms further around Bucks waist pulling them closer together. Bucks breath stopped for a second before he pulled himself together somewhat to move one arm down a little and it settled around Tommys upper arm; his hand on Tommys back. His other arm lowered so his hand was holding Tommys shoulder. 

Tommy reached up and took the hand on his shoulder and held it against his chest. The slight shift in position had their faces cheek to cheek as they kept swaying. 

Unbeknownst to each other they’d both closed their eyes. Both of them relishing the unexpected intimate moment. 

Tommys heart was beating so hard in his chest he was concerned it might start poking through his chest wall like a cartoon character in love. He’d thought about holding Evan like this quite a few times. He’d thought about doing a lot with Evan, mostly involving little to no clothing but he couldn’t think about that now with their groins so close together and being in a public place. 

“If I ask you something, will you give me an honest answer?” He whispered into Bucks ear. 

Buck felt the movement of Tommys lips against his ear and had to concentrate on keeping his breathing steady. “Yeah.”

“Were you really jealous?” 

Buck waited a few seconds before answering honestly. “Yes.” He whispered back into Tommy’s ear. 

Tommy pulled his head back a few inches to look at Evan. Their faces were inches apart. Buck was stuck in Tommy’s gaze and couldn’t move away from it. He could feel Tommy’s warm and gentle breath against his lips. Despite his attempts, his breathing quickened. He broke the spell of Tommy’s eyes for half a second by looking down at his lips. He involuntarily swallowed and looked back up to see Tommy looking down at his too. 

As though the other held a magnet they both slowly began moving their faces closer. Each not being able to look away from the other’s lips. The hand holding Bucks to Tommys chest squeezed gently as both of their eyes fluttered shut. 

Their mouths were millimetres apart and so, so close to making contact. Tommy was finally going to know what Evan’s plump lips felt like.

The hotel fire alarms began screaming above their heads and around them. They pulled apart looking at each other for half a second before turning and noticing smoke coming from under one of the doors at the side of the room.

[iphnh]

me when I first heard of Barbie: that sounds like a 2 hour commercial for Barbie

me when I saw the online reaction to the movie: hmm it might be worth watching

me after I watched Barbie: that was a 2 hour commercial for Barbie.

[letorip]

can u give us a summary of kiss with a fist 4 without spoiling?

lol... here's a spoiler

kiss with a fist [iv]

"you smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: just as things begin to complicate even more between you and tara, her life becomes even more complicated

warnings: blood, angst, curse words, kissing, borderline sexual content

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i contemplated doing this in so many ways and i ended up thinking it was just funnier if i answered with the literal story. so... it was at least funny to me. it's shorter than normal, just because i didn't want to split up an action scene that'll take place next time, so expect a much longer part next time.

===+++===

===+++===

You didn’t like police stations very much, and you weren’t exactly doing a good job of keeping it hidden. Your knee bounced against the dusty linoleum in a quiet tapping noise, and although you yourself couldn’t hear it with the endless amount of phones ringing and shouting down the hall, Tara clearly could.

Her head rested on your shoulder, where you had slumped, and she placed a hand right upon your knee, stopping it from bouncing anymore. Her dark eyes looked up at you. “You’re making me even more nervous.”

“Sorry,” you rushed, quick to pull your knee away from her hand.

Tara frowned, looking back down to the tiling. “Of course this had to happen.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She shrugged, and you had to nudge her gently. “Tara?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. "Just Sam's license and her getting attacked at the bodega... I wasn't there, (Y/n)."

"You couldn't have known," you said, frowning at her. "Everyone thought all the 'Stab' shit was over."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "Mindy always says lightning doesn't strike twice, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really true."

"Or maybe it's just a crazed copycat. There's no way of knowing it's actually after you yet."

"That's not what Sam'll say." She had an uncharacteristic look of defeat in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. Tara was a spitfire, even to Sam. But she looked beside herself, wallowing against the soft fabric of your jumper. "Sam'll say that Ghostface is back. That we need to leave."

"Maybe she's right," you shrug.

"Maybe," Tara said. "But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave. I want to live, but... if it's not him, I can't just keep living my life on the run from whoever's chasing me. That means Amber won."

"Amber?"

"Yeah... Amber. Amber Freeman. She was my, uh, girlfriend."

"Oh," you frown. Tara's dark eyes looked up at you, nervously watching your reaction.

"Yeah... and she was Ghostface."

"Oh," you repeated. Tara never spoke about her much, and neither had the rest of the core four, really. It had never really dawned on you to ask, just because it seemed important to Tara, and for the longest time, what was important to her wasn't important to you. "Are you still nursing that wound?" you asked.

She smiled, but it did not reach the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes. It feels weird since she almost killed me, but there are times I really miss her. Grief demands to be felt, and all."

"Even if it's a murderous psychopath?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she snorted, turning her head on your shoulder. "Even if it's a murderous psychopath." Then, she grew serious. "We should probably talk about last night, right?"

You froze, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat. "Uh, now?"

"Well, it's just, I kind of felt something... I don't know. I know we said this was fake and all, and I don't know if you have your eye on anyone else right now," Tara began to ramble, "so if you do, don't feel pressured to agree to anything. I know I kind of made a messy situation out of this, and I don't even know where to go--"

But she was interrupted by the door down the hall opening. It was loud enough that your attention was pulled towards it, and through it came a woman with a stack of files in her arm. She smiled warmly at Tara, walking right over, and Tara seemed to recognise her, sitting up in her chair.

The warmth on your chest where her head had been was gone in an instant, and you would have been lying if you said you hadn't selfishly begun to miss it.

"Tara, right?" the woman asked with a smile, and Tara nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an underlying suspicion. But the woman just gave her a gentle smile.

"Kirby," she said, extending her arm out for a handshake. "Kirby Reed. I used to go to high school with Sam, and now I'm with the FBI."

Your eyes widened. If the FBI were now involved with the case, it was definitely not a good sign. You felt Tara's hand go to yours, squeezing it. If you were to ask her about it, she'd likely say it was to calm the nervousness you hadn't been able to hide on your face, but you knew that it was to steady herself, if anything.

"FBI?" Tara asked. "So it's really him?"

Kirby frowned. "I'm hoping it's some copycat, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not too sure. Is Sam still back there being questioned?"

Tara nodded, grimacing. "Apparently, both of us are people of interest. Our roommate's dad is on the case."

"Well," Kirby said, "I'll see if I can help him." She turned to you. "And who's this?" she asked.

"Uh--" you started, but Tara shook her head, interrupting.

"--(Y/n) isn't involved," she glared, defending you with a ferocity in her voice.

Kirby gave you a look over. "Are you sure? I don't mean to disrespect either of you, but are you sure you can trust them, Tara? It's never who you expect."

Tara nods. "I know they're not Ghostface. (Y/n) wouldn't lie."

(Y/n) wouldn't lie. The sentence made you sick to your stomach. You could see Calvin in your mind, laughing at how you got yourself into this situation. Alisha would've found it funny, too. You swallowed, standing up from the chair. You smiled weakly at Tara. "It's okay, Tar. I'll go home... just let me know if you need to leave... for the... uh, arrangement, or whatever."

She nodded, mouth drawn into a line. "Yeah... see you later... Duck," she said, trying equally as hard to smile. You turned around, walking out.

===+++===

You had pretty much collapsed into bed, the moment you got home. It had been an exhausting few hours, what with finishing your model and then rushing with Tara to the police station. Your final class of the semester was later in the day, so you would take any sort of sleep you could get.

And the sleep you took, waking up a few hours later with mussed-up hair and a final to get over and done with. You grabbed the model and your backpack, heading for the train station, and finally checking your phone for the first time in a little while.

Little Shit (do not pick up): mindy wants everyone at the park later, after your final

Little Shit (do not pick up): good luck with that, btw

Little Shit (do not pick up): also we should still probably talk about last night i didn't get to finish earlier

You gave a thumbs-up to the first message, and quickly typed back a thanks, before tucking it into your pocket. The critique was boring, but you couldn't help but feel yourself swell with pride when your professor complimented the small amount of green space you had put within the actual walls of the building. It had been Tara's idea, and you reminded yourself to thank her later. Now all you had to do was go to Mindy's weird meeting, and you could begin your break.

The group was sitting on a group of benches near the green, with Mindy hovering over them, her arms crossed. When she saw you coming, she raised her eyebrow at you in suspicion. You rolled your eyes, coming to sit down next to where Tara had saved you a seat.

She sent you a small smile when you did, weaving your fingers together. You knew that to the group she was just doing it because you and Tara were allegedly a couple, but just to you it felt like so much more than that.

And it made you feel a little bit sick, again.

"How'd your final go?" she asked, and it made your heart stop for a moment, the way her warm brown eyes looked in the soft sunlight. You shrugged, but could not stop the smile spreading itself on your face.

"The professor liked your idea."

"Really?!" she asked, sounding super excited, and you nodded. "Well now who's silly, for telling me it was a bad idea?"

"Well because it is a silly idea, genuinely who would think of that."

"I would. It isn't silly, it's cool."

"I'm afraid cool doesn't always work, Tara."

"It did this time," she said smugly, sticking her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes, knowing but not hating that she'd be gloating about it for weeks.

"Lovebirds, cut the chit-chat," Mindy shot, glaring in your direction, and Tara huffed in annoyance but begrudgingly turned towards her. "Now, as terrifying as it all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time."

"Mindy," Sam chided, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, sorry," she said. "The way I see it, someone’s out to make a sequel to the requel."

"What’s a requel?" Anika asked, leaning forward as if trying to understand her girlfriend's antics. You didn't know either.

"You’re beautiful, sweetie, but let’s hold questions to the end," Mindy teased.

From next to you, Tara looked more worried. "Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, but Stab 2 took place in college…"

Sam tensed. "So you think the killer’s copying the second movie?"

"Like a homage!" Chad suggested, looking proud of himself. The rest of the group shot him a look. "What? You all I know took French, it should not be a surprise that I know that word."

"Just a little bit," Tara teased. He sent her a small smile, one that you knew came from his massive crush on her. It only made you feel a bit worse about the both of you.

"That’s one possibility," Mindy said, nodding at the suggestion. "Heroes now in college? Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count?" she looked at you, Ethan, Quinn, and Anika. "Check, check, check, and check."

"I really don't like this," Ethan said.

"But it can’t only be about Stab 2," Mindy continued. Tara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" she asked.

Mindy had a glint in her eye. "It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore."

"So what is it?" you asked, deciding to bite on her theory.

"We’re in a franchise. And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise," she replied.

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling."

But Mindy wasn't deterred. "Now, rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings- you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

"Beheadings?" Chad asked, taking notes.

Next to him, Ethan looked rather lost. Quinn and Anika looked just as confused. You were glad you weren't the only one lacking a real understanding of how the core four operated. They had earned a right to be a little nuts after surviving Woodsboro, that you knew. But the whole thing seemed a bit conspiratorial.

"Rule Two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here." It was hard to absorb these things laid out as facts, and you struggled to follow Mindy's train of thought, sending Anika a wary glance. She just shrugged.

Tara noticed your confusion, sending a small squeeze to your hand and mouthing the word 'later.' You nodded, turning your attention back to Mindy, attempting to do your best to listen.

"And Rule Three, no one is safe. Legacy characters are cannon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. Sidney’s smart to sit this one out, but it’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. And that’s not even the worst part."

"There's a worst part?" You asked. Mindy nodded, smirking.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP, which means the main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You sent Tara a wary look at the suggestion, leaning harder against her. She tried to send you a small smile to comfort you, but it did little to stop the thought coming to your mind. You were cursed, that much was true from the sheer amount of grief that seemed to permeate around your family. It was a bad idea, to get so close to Tara, and that you knew. But it didn't stop the fact that you had a near electric desire to do so whenever she was nearby.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group?" Ethan asked, beginning to panic. "Am I one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Um," Mindy started, blinking. "Weird overshare, but at least that brings us to our current suspects." Her gaze steeled over.

"Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he’s so shy and dorky." Next to him, Chad shot him a more assessing glance.

"Why am I on the list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?!" Ethan asked, raising his voice.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shot back, crossing her arms in increased suspicion. She turned to Quinn. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

"Sex positive," Quinn corrected, "but thank you."

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I answered their ad online--" Quinn started, and Mindy scoffed, raising her hand up.

"Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough. 'Ad online,' good lord."

"Mindy, it was an anonymous ad, and you know we vetted her, plus her Dad’s a cop," Tara interjected.

"Tara, Tara, Tara," Mindy said, shaking her head. "Cop Dad? That's a great cover. Don't you get that's how these movies would work? Speaking of, while we're on Tara," she continued, turning to you.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi (Y/n)," she replied, smiling. It dropped to a frown. Tara's grip on your hand tightened. "(Y/n). The enemies-to-lovers, quippy 'annoyance' one of our main characters has incredible sexual tension with."

"Ew," Sam shuddered.

"Ew indeed," Mindy agreed. "Never trust the love interest." She looked over to Anika, who was smiling at her girlfriend. "Ever." Anika's face fell.

"Okay. So we’ve got our rules, and we’ve got our suspects," Sam huffed.

"Wait- what about the rest of you?" Ethan interrupted.

"I mean, I think it’s safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy shrugged.

"Agreed," Chad nods.

"Um, not agreed. Maybe the trauma of what you went through caused one or more of you to snap," Quinn suggested, playing with the nail polish on her fingers.

"Or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more! Ethan jumped in again. "And, let’s be honest, some of those theories online about Sam are--"

Tara sends him a death glare. "Don'y you fucking dare finish that sentence."

"He’s right, though. Face facts. If we’re all suspects? You’re all suspects," Anika shrugs.

You sent a wary look around at everyone and then another look back down to Tara, wondering which one would hurt her, and just how you'd be able to stop it.

===+++===

That night was the first night in a while nothing was expected of you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to actually relax. Mindy's monologue about how royally bloody fucked everything was now that Ghostface was officially back had set you a bit on edge, and part of you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You had thought the curse would get left behind in Nebraska, when you left, but it seemed maybe you had taken it with you, packed with your belongings. Maybe it was now affecting the person you had wished to protect from any harm. It still felt miraculous, just how Tara had wormed her way from your shit list to deep within your heart. Maybe that was the curse. Someone who could make you so annoyed could also make you feel like your heart was skipping beats.

You coped with the extreme worrying through a cooked meal and TV binge, flopping down on the couch and turning your ringer on, in case you were needed. You knew that Sam and Tara were likely preparing for the worst, and you also knew that you had been included on the list of suspects.

Maybe none of them rightfully believed you had it in you, but you also knew that even being a possibility meant that the core four had to keep you at arm's length for a while.

Or, at least, that's what you figured they'd do.

Right as the episode you were watching began to roll credits, you heard a hard knock on the door, freezing. Mindy had said something in a text, telling you to be cautious of opening doors when no one was scheduled to come over. You shot a wary look to your magnetic strip of knives, hanging over the hotplate. If you were just fast enough, maybe you could grab a knife or two, if Ghostface busted the door in. There was usually a phone call, wasn't there? Then why--

"(Y/n)?" Tara called, giving a hard knock. You felt your cheeks flush. Oh. You dashed to the door, not wanting to leave her on the step for too long.

When you opened it, you could see that Tara's own cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Did you run here???" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh...maybe," Tara said, suddenly finding the hallway outside of your flat much more interesting.

"I thought Sam would have you under lock and key," you teased.

"I snuck out..." Tara said, cheeks flushing again, but this time not from the run.

"Oh, so I'm harbouring a criminal?" you joked. Tara rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Can I just come in?"

"Do you trust me to do that?" you asked, curious. "I understand if you say no, believe me I get it. If I had been attacked or anything, especially by my girlfriend, I wouldn't trust anyone for a long time..."

Tara watched you ramble speak, eyes wide and dark and beautiful in the dim hall light. "I trust you... and I, uh, want some small amount of normalcy, like it was at the lab. Before everything got so weird, you know?"

You nodded, stepping aside for her to enter and then freezing. "Wait, Tara, what happened to your hand?"

You hadn't noticed until now, but her knuckles on the other hand had been bruising a dusty purple colour, still red at the edges. You let the door shut behind you, turning to her hand and holding it up in the lamplight of your hall. "What happened?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Tara's cheeks flushed again. "I punched a bitch," she said flatly. Your eyes widened even more, and Tara was quick to shake her head. "Just Gale Weathers. She wrote, uh, a whole book on Woodsboro. Called Sam a bunch of bad stuff. She actually was outside the station with the news and stuff when Sam was questioned earlier today... so I punched her."

You snorted. "Judging by your hand you definitely got her."

"Oh absolutely," Tara scoffed, as if she was offended by a possibility that she hadn't.

"You should probably ice it," you said with a wince, looking at the bruised skin. She scoffed again.

"What're you, a doctor?"

You shrugged, leading her into your kitchen. "I was going to be."

"Oh," Tara hummed.

"Yeah... took one introductory class and realised I hated it. It sucks too, because I gave my parents this whole speech about how I wanted to be a doctor because of our family, and I dropped the profession about a month or two later afterwards."

"Is that why you and your dad don't talk much?" she asked. "Is he a doctor?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. It was an amusing suggestion. "About as far as you could get from it, actually. But no, it isn't why we don't really talk." You didn't say any more on the subject, even though you could tell that Tara was curious. "We should really get you iced up, your hand is swollen, I can't believe you didn't show me this earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like my parent again."

"I'm just worried about you, Tara," you said, shooting her a meaningful look. She was staring up at you with those damn eyes again like you held her heart in your hands. "I mean, come on, let's just put a bag of ice on it or something, or--"

But before you could finish what you were suggesting, Tara interrupted you, throwing her arms around your neck and standing up on her toes. "Is this okay?" she whispered, voice low. It flooded your ears and squeezed the air from your lungs, just how close her lips were from yours.

You can't help the small nod, or the way you're probably dumbly staring at her mouth right now, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and your hands find their way to her waist, palming at the exposed skin of her cropped shirt with your thumbs. "I've, uh, kind of wanted to do this for weeks," Tara admits with a small grin. The words spin around and around in your mind like you're on some carousel of thought.

If you could have formed words, you would have told her the truth: you had wanted to kiss her since she walked in the room and you saw her for the first time. But you can't. So instead, you crash your lips onto hers.

Tara doesn't hesitate even a little bit, wrapping her arms around your neck and falling off her toes as she kisses you back with fervour. You follow her down, working your lips against hers as her hands give up on your neck and instead move to spread themselves out on the warm apples of your cheeks.

You're taken over by some other, hungry entity entirely, and you lift Tara up onto the kitchen counter, into the exact same place she was sitting when she asked you for help with this stupid scheme. It doesn't matter now, you're too lost in her lips. You feel her tongue push past and into your mouth, and her hands travel up your back to spread out against the back of your shirt and pull you against her.

You can't help the groan that escapes your mouth, and you feel Tara's teasing smile against your lips as she breathes in your smell. Your hands are still on her waist, sliding up so that your thumbs gently brush against the bottom of her bra. She shudders at the sensation, opening her mouth wider, and you can taste the lingering cherry of her chapstick on her lips.

Neither of you is especially sure how long you stay there, but when you finally have to pull away, you're scrambling for air. You lazily let your forehead rest against hers, catching your breath and struggling to stay on your feet. Tara lets her hands wander from your back into your hair, exploring the planes of your body for the first time, and you can't stop the small comment that worms its way from your mouth after.

"Exploring the merchandise?" you ask with a teasing, breathless laugh. Tara shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and looking up at you with that same damn beautiful look.

"You should come stay with me and the others. It's safer that way," she says, becoming worried again. Her hands rest on your cheeks and she kisses you again, softer, but just as meaningful.

You painfully have to shake your head. "I can't, you know that."

"I won't be mad if you leave town," she says. "I won't hold it against you."

You smile. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, Tara."

She nods, processing it, before crashing her lips back onto yours and tugging at the bottom of your shirt, but you catch her hands before she can tug it over your head. "No, Tara- Tara wait."

"I want you," she says.

"I know, but we should wait," you say, hands on the side of her thighs. "Wait until it's over. Right now, Ghostface is more important."

"He gets everything, (Y/n). I just want this. I want you. I know we did this whole thing about fake dating, and I know it wasn't real, but I realise that I want it to be. I just want you."

There's a burning in your stomach, burning for her, and you pull her in for another kiss. Only to be stopped by the sound of your door creaking open.

You freeze and so does Tara at the noise. "(Y/n)?" she asks, trembling. "Did you lock your front door?"

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN catch you all next time for a big ole action sequence and a whole bunch of drama

[attapullman]

Silver Screen, Make Me Scream | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: The world is used to seeing Robert Floyd as a Navy admiral on a screen thirty feet tall. You're used to seeing him as the man who spoils you rotten, in and out of the bedroom.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: f!reader, 18+ ONLY, older boyfriend AU, movie star AU, daddy k!nk, unprotected pinv, older bf Bob eats it from behind, cowgirl position, age gap, no y/n

A Note from Mo: Uh...this is porn without plot disguised as a filthy, flirty AU and I am waving from the bars of horny jail. Fellow old man fuckers, this one is for you.

It’s his cold pillow that wakes you. 

No deep breaths or soft snores echoing around the vaulted ceiling. The absurdly expensive bedding all yours to take. Your late night should keep you asleep until noon, but it feels wrong to be in bed when you don’t have your lover’s solid warmth against your skin.

You pad down the terracotta-tiled hall and take in the views of the Pacific, the only artwork needed on this side of the house. Stormy blue and glass-riddled sandy white, the picturesque view sells itself. The waves crash on the beach below, their mellow sound seeping into the Mediterranean revival from the open patio doors. 

He’s sitting outside in just his sweatpants, coffee in hand, as he watches the water while flicking through a thick stack of pages. The grey at his temples is bright under the early San Diego sun. You know he’s reading something important because he has those horn-rimmed glasses on, the ones he repeatedly complains are too tight around his ears. Won’t even waste a minute to go grab his preferred wire frames. 

Robert Floyd may be retired from show business, but he’s hotter than the first day he graced screens.

Eyes lifting from the pages, he catches you staring from your spot by the French doors, negligee skimming your body in the soft ocean breeze. The lids of your eyes are still a little heavy with sleep.

“You need something, baby?” He pats his broad thigh and you assume your perch, snuggling against his sun-warmed skin as you shake your head. How is he always the perfect temperature? The chill from the ocean wafts over you as he wraps his arm around your waist.

Your lips part in a contented smile. “Just checking in on you, Daddy. Missed you in bed.”

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, brushing his lips against your temple. His thick pointer taps against the stack of pages that arrived by messenger at sunrise. “Agent asked me to give this a look over, see if I’d be interested.”

You tilt your head to see the title. “Is that-”

“Yes, baby girl. They’re asking me to come back. Just a few scenes with the new regime, but get to wear that admirals uniform one more time.” Despite him saying it so matter of factly, you can detect his giddiness at wearing those pins once again. “Not sure if it’s the right move though.”

You trail your finger along his pectoral, imagining the ironed uniform underneath your touch. 

Robert Floyd had made a career of Naval action films, starting out as a fresh faced Weapons Systems Officer in his debut, to gracing the screen one last time as an Admiral in the franchise’s original conclusion. He’d won over hearts with his steely blue gaze and soft smile, never one for breaking the rules. Yet always the one who celebrated the hardest when his squadron completed a mission.

For military propaganda, he made a compelling poster boy.

Your entire childhood he had been on posters in the mall, trailers on the television during commercial breaks. Those bright sapphire eyes and gleaming pins burnt into your vision, uncontrollably charmed by the strong, silent type. 

And now here he was, putty under your palms as you asked if he wanted more coffee.

Without a doubt he’d take the appearance, spend a day or two on set with the next generation of Naval action stars. The next year he’d appear on every talk show and repeat his modesty over his fifteen minutes on camera. Your Bobby would balk at the attention, but glow with pride as the host played his cameo for the audience. 

Watching him flip through a few pages, you could already see the shy smile he would win the crowd over as he insisted the revival’s cast members were the real stars.

“What’cha thinking about, sweet girl?” You were so lost in your daydream that you missed his attention turning to you, warm palm running over your hip under your thin robe. 

You stroke his jaw, fingers curling into the regulation-cut greying hair. The cut he’s kept since he was first cast in his early twenties. “You should take the role. You look handsome as an admiral.” You peck a light kiss to his lips. “Dashing, really.”

His blush is striking against the ocean sky. As you get up to go make you both breakfast, you can feel his eyes on you; an extra sway in your hips for his enjoyment. Bob lounges back on the outdoor set and looks between the breaking waves and the now slightly rumpled script. 

He’s coming back.

The view of the ocean as you zip up I-5 is breathtaking, a gorgeous Southern California day. The early call time was less than ideal, but the energy in the car is electric. Bob’s hand wanders into the passenger seat to wrap around your bare knee, thumb tapping out an unknown rhythm as he navigates traffic. 

He looks the vision of wealth and importance sitting in the front seat of his pewter grey Porsche 911 - a sleek upgrade for his 40th from the battered truck he’d been driving since he arrived in Hollywood. The car is understated in its elegance, like its owner. You admire his graceful lines of a life well lived, the pokes of silver woven through his hair. And yet his eyes carry that intelligent, sassy energy that keeps you on your toes, ready for the next challenge he brings you. 

“You’re looking at me.” His eyes don’t leave the road, but the smile on the corner of his thin lips is playful.

You fiddle with his fingers, admiring the large dexterous digits. “Just so handsome, how can I not?”

Bob lifts your hand with his, allowing the platinum and diamonds of your bracelet to catch the morning sun - nearly blinding with their sparkle. He brings your interlocked fingers to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to the skin as he finally looks at you. His eyes are the same striking blue as the ocean behind him. 

“Perfect girl, what did I do to deserve you?”

You’re wondering the same when he enters the studio lot, passing through security and finding your way to the set. There’s a bustle of commotion as the two of you join the crowd, everyone immediately hushing their voices as the talent arrives. Bob’s chest swells with power as everyone immediately caters to him before noticing you.

“That must be his assistant?” Rumors spread through the crew like wildfire, watching you prance behind film legend Robert Floyd like an excitable puppy. Eyebrows shooting up when he turns back and rests a hand on the back of your bare thigh, leaning close to ask if you want anything from craft. 

You slide your diamond-covered wrist around his neck and peck his cheek. Definitely not an assistant.

Since the day he’d made his name on marquees, Bob had been surrounded by women. A tall man in Navy blues with the golden touch of Hollywood? His fellow cast joked more than once that tag chasers didn’t care whether you served the country or just did it on screen. Eventually he’d done the responsible thing and tried marriage, settling down with a woman who cared more about his flashy lifestyle than the quiet man behind the lights. Divorce was swift and the introvert reverted inside his shell, his film career quiet as the next generation of aviators took the screen. 

And then you entered his life, with your open face and bright smile. A coffee shop in Coronado he frequented that you happened to pass. A bump of elbows over the creamer, his amused grin when you accidentally grabbed his drink in your fluster. You were so excited to meet a real movie star, a dream come true. And he looked so much bigger than his character - those shoulders brawnier, that jaw sharper. Yet the smile he gave you was heart-melting as you handed him your own coffee cup to sign, nothing else available.

It wasn’t until that afternoon you noticed he’d written his number in neat penmanship. You had to wait until that next night to know you were falling inexplicably in love with a man who the rest of the world already adored. He was bigger than life, your everything.

And for all of your affection, he spoiled you. Dates to restaurants you couldn’t pronounce in Liberty Station, private events with tickets you couldn’t afford. Every week a new trinket left at your bedside, sparkling in the low light while he hummed in the bathroom excited for you to notice. Few things brought him joy at this stage in life, but you traipsing in with nothing on but the latest diamanté left him positively enraptured.

People could stare and point and judge all they wanted. It was love, and it was all yours.

You’ve raided the mini bar and read through the call sheet when Bob finally comes back to his trailer. He strikes a bold figure in his Navy blacks - pins gleaming, white cap under his arm. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greets you, swooping to kiss your cheek. But your breath is already stolen. You’d seen pictures, caught his movies at the old matinee in Balboa Park. But standing in front of you is the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. He looks so…official.

Bob was already feeling good in the wardrobe trailer, the crew he’d worked with for years stroking his ego as they put the final touches to his starched uniform. He’d be on screen for a total of eight minutes and he was going to look important every single second. 

But with your eyes trained on him, pupils wide and mesmerized, it’s the only compliment he needs. 

“They look good on you again,” you coo, tracing your fingertips over the sterling silver insignia pins. It’s hard to quell the rising heat as you look at him, standing tall in this uniform - his uniform - just like the posters and movie trailers of your youth. 

He rubs his temples and grabs his wire frames from the counter, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he straightens up. “Feels good to wear them, baby. Not sure who I am if not in the ‘Navy’.” He chuckles around air quotes, morphing into a moan as you run your nails down his torso. 

Even though he’s not in character, the suit transforms him. 

He’s not your Bob, the man who walks around his big ol’ house in band shirts he got in the 80s and his worn shearling slippers. Squinting through his glasses while trying to read fine print for instruction manuals for more Lego sets than he needs, peppering your head with kisses as you sit between his knees. Your Bobby is always goofy and smiling when you come through the door, eager to wrap his arms around you as he patiently listens to all the friend updates from brunch. He’s warmth and safety, that side of middle age where you have to explain internet fads with a playful eye roll.

But this man…this man in front of you is stern and mighty, seizing the room with his intensity. He’s commanding in his own silent way, back straight and shoulders taught. No nonsense, just like the admiral he plays for screens around the world. His presence is intoxicating. You can’t decide if you want to dominate him or be putty in his hands. 

You twist in his arms, pressing your chest to his as you smooth the lapels of his suit. It’s only natural that those big, practiced hands of his immediately slip to your legs. Two magnets drawn by the promise of touch. But once he’s inches from your pretty face, ready to ask you to help him read over lines, that gleam in your eyes has other plans.

His girl wants him.

“Babygirl, I’m in wardrobe.” His words say no, but the fervent way he’s stroking the skin under your hem says differently. He’s not immune to a tiny dress and puppy eyes. You watch his hand reach up to drag through greying roots before he remembers it’s styled, redirecting his frustration by slipping rough fingers around the nape of your neck. Holding your head still while he fights his sense of responsibility.

It doesn’t matter that you’re in a tin can trailer with no sound proofing. You lick your glossy lips and give him the most innocent smile. “Please? We can be super careful.”

He eyes you warily. The two of you together is messy.

“Please, Daddy?” You rub yourself against him, feeling the way he shivers underneath his stiff uniform. “I wanna know what it’s like to fuck an admiral. Please?”

He’s powerless against you when you’re like this. Needy and heavy-lidded, unsatisfied until you’ve had your fair share of him and then some. It’s only when you’re a panting mess full of his spend that he can regain any control against you.  The age gap is exhilarating and exhausting.

His face dips to rest against your temple, the floral scent of your perfume clouding his senses. So sweet, so soft. You feel his groan against your cheek before he straightens up to his full height, towering over you with a stern expression on his face. Those elegant, practiced fingers tuck under your chin.

“Attention.” Your spine straightens, your breath deepens. “Let’s see if you’re up to regulation, lieutenant.”

A warm gush of excitement floods your body, soaking in your flimsy excuse for underwear. You watch your big, broad, authoritative boyfriend sink down into the plush trailer sofa, knees spread. Patting his thigh with an unamused brow quirk. 

Exhilaration races through your veins as you eagerly straddle his lap, sundress sliding up your thighs as you perch prettily on his thighs. The vision of youthful glow, hoping to impress.

Bob traces your heated skin with callused fingers, lips pursed, before sliding a hand firmly up your back. The world spins as he flips you over his lap, your rounded ass exposed to his eyes, modesty barely covered by a scrap of lace.

“Uniform panty inspection,” Bob huffs out, fingers ghosting over the fabric. His voice is restrained, clipped. You stay as still as possible as you hold your breath. You want to pass this inspection so bad.

The firm touch of his ring finger to your clothed sex forces a moan to slip through your clamped lips. So close to giving you what you want. But he remains diligent, stroking your pussy through the fabric until he’s satisfied with the wet patch he created. “Perfectly up to code.”

His finger wraps around the strap of the thong and yanks it down, forcing you to further immodestly part your knees as he discards the sexy - yet unnecessary - piece of fabric.

Your mind is heavy with lust as you turn your head, trying to understand. Normally he’s between your thighs teasing the fabric for longer than you can handle. Your lips are still dry. But before your eyes and brain connect with the visual, film legend Robert Floyd has a rounded cheek in each hand and his tongue plunged deep in your pretty pink pussy.

Blunt nails dig into the soft skin of your ass as he re-acquaints himself with your taste. Sliding his thick muscle along the velveteen walls of your cunt, lapping up the addicting taste of your lust. Your head is empty as he forces you to take it, to enjoy the way he worships the very core of your being. 

Saliva and arousal mix on his clean shaven face as he presses deeper, moaning as he feels you clench around him. His own pride growing as you wail with only his tongue fucking you. It’s wet and dirty, the heat along your skin eating you alive as you succumb to your pleasure. 

These are the benefits of dating a man with experience.

His tongue retreats, laving over your folds with practiced precision. You bury your head in the rough sofa fabric, muffling the depraved sounds crossing your lips. Your fingers reach up and wrap around his thick wrist, needing a tether to reality. His free hand travels to his belt, loosening the leather and freeing his erection to the humid trailer.

He knows you and your tells. Dragging that wicked tongue back, he corners your little neglected clit. Sucks it into his mouth like an after dinner mint, savoring the tangy sweetness of you. Your hips thrust back at him, desperate for more as you begin your hedonistic descent. 

Time and space lose all meaning as Bob goes in for the kill, switching between the heavy pulls on your clit and the slippery licks along your core. Blowing cool air where you’re most sensitive before sweeping in with his burning tongue. The combination of his stiff muscle fucked into your depths and his thumb bumping your swollen clit finally send you over the edge, a white light overtaking your body as you scream into the plush cushion below.

Film legend Robert Floyd cleans your juices from your shaking thighs thoroughly.

Begrudgingly, your limbs are jelly as you bring yourself to his level. Bob’s hands continue their ministrations to the globes of your ass, squeezing and groping the soft skin. When you finally find yourself sitting upright, his thick cock nestled between the soft lips of your cunt, he gives into his desires and draws his hand up, only to bring it down with a slap! The sound rings through the room and his cheeks tinge pink with arousal and embarrassment.

“Admiral!” you giggle as he repeats the harsh slap on the other cheek. 

While you have the devastatingly sexy view of a sweaty admiral beneath you, his eyes are glued to the mirror across the trailer that captures the dark red handprint he wishes he could tattoo on your perfect ass. 

Lips descend upon his and the trailer is filled with the slick sounds of tongues and moans, four hands grasping with the need to touch. But where to touch? His burning skin? The cool pins of his jacket? It’s almost too easy a choice to wrap your fingers around the bulbous head of his cock while he swallows your desperate little tongue.

“That’s it, feel how hard Daddy is for you.”

He finally pulls himself from your kiss-bitten lips as his hands tug down the neckline of your filmy dress, exposing your heaving breasts to the room. Lips dipping down to wrap around your hardened nipple, leaving teeth marks and wet kisses on tender flesh. Your moans egging him on to bite deeper, suck harder.

The world knows the reserved man who waits to speak, level-headed in the most dire situations. And yet here he is, the remnants of your orgasm staining his chin as he closes his eyes to better enjoy the peaked bud he’s devouring. 

He’s delicious and all yours.

Your fingers tangle at the nape of his neck, grasping the short strands with all your might as you pull him off your chest with an audible pop. Those impossibly blue eyes look at you reverently, letting you call the shots so he can continue to enjoy your body as it deserves. You drag your shared gaze to where your bodies meet and a grunt involuntarily leaves him. Finally.

The first touch is a puzzle piece falling into place. The thick head of him asking for entrance, slick with your desire. 

Those unbelievably large hands hold themselves delicately at your waist, assisting your descent. His eyes flicker between yours and the welcoming entrance of your cunt. Your commanding admiral - your sweet Bobby - grasps you securely as you try to sink further on his swollen cock.

“Daddy, it’s too big.” Your voice is pained, teary eyes struggling to hold his gaze just as he likes. His size splitting you open like his own personal cock sleeve.

“You can take it, baby, just breathe.” His heart threatens to beat out of his chest as your impossibly tight cunt squeezes around him. “There’s my good girl, gonna fit all of Daddy, aren’t you?”

Hesitantly lifting your hips, muscle memory takes over as you adjust. The ease of taking his thick cock coming back to you as your breasts bounce with your fervent movement. The lapel of his jacket wrinkles as you hold it, lip between your teeth as he grazes that spongy spot only he can reach.

He guides you in your pursuit of pleasure, admiring the way you thrust you chest out as you clench around him. One hand on his lapel, the other grasping his knee. Truly using his body to get yourself off. So unbelievably sexy.

Your admiral’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing persistent slow circles over the sensitive, swollen bud. Times a hard press with when you are completely full of him, your senses overwhelmed. Bob. Bob. Bob. His balls ache with the need to claim you as his.

Impatient, knowing call time is mere moments away, Bob lifts his hips to yours. Pumping his erection deep, all the way to the hilt as his balls brush your ass. He’s so deep, so perfectly deep. A guttural moan leaves your spit-slicked lips, begging for your orgasm. 

“Are you going to cum for your admiral?” His deep voice rings through your ears as you chase your high, the world clouding as only his cock becomes your reality. Your fingers card through his hair, silver and golden brown weaving together to keep you grounded in your pleasure. “I said, are you going to cum for your admiral?”

“Yes!” The next lot over could probably hear you shout to the heavens, plunging yourself down on Bob’s thick cock as your orgasm plunges you over the cliff. Sweet relief flooding your senses as your pussy pulses around him as a thank you.

Your lips find his neck as you nuzzle in, hips still sunk low on his throbbing erection. You need to be filled with Daddy’s cum.

The stiff fabric of his uniform jacket rubs your bare skin as he holds you close, pressing your nipples to his insignia pins as he strongly thrusts those last few times. Grunting into your cooing mouth as he finally lets go, cock pulsing as thick white jets of his cum coat your walls. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear when you carefully pull off, barely enough energy to keep your thighs closed for the sake of his uniform. He gently guides you onto your back, ever the gentleman. 

You stretch your sore limbs and relax into the plushness of his trailer sofa, hands wrapping behind your head as you smile, satiated, while Bob’s creamy cum runs past your thighs to pool on the fabric. Your graying lover gives you a wry smile as he regains his breath against the back the couch, uniform crumpled and bearing a stain a little too close to his zipper. 

Always so messy. But so worth it.

There’s a rap at the door, three quick knocks that shake you both from your orgasmic haze. Bob rushes to cover your modesty, fiddling with the hems of your dress with clumsy fingers. Wishing you were home so he could wrap you in his robe and run a bath before watching the ocean from the terrace instead of praying there’s wipes in this shoddy trailer. 

“Mr. Floyd? We’re ready for you,” comes through the door. The PA who whispered you were an assistant, now only steps away from your bare breasts and dirty thighs.

You wiggle your eyebrows at Bob as you fix your own appearance, amused as the bigger than life Robert Floyd shuffles around the room, tucking in his button up and wiping sweat from his collar. Blush in full force as he hands you the thong resting on the kitchenette. He shakes his head at you, mirth softening the edges of his hard gaze. There’s another knock at the door.

Uniform fully back in place, Bob takes a moment to admire you before an afternoon in front of cameras. Enjoying this last moment before he gets into character. Hands on your soft hips, sated cerulean eyes appreciating the curves of your mischievous lips. “Be a good girl for me today and Daddy will give you a reward later. Deal?”

You bite your lip and nod with a smirk, opening the door of the trailer so he’s not later than he already is. Today you get to watch him do the thing he loves, that in itself is already a reward. The crowd outside the trailer watches you turn back and leave one last kiss to his lips.

“Yes…Admiral.”

Bob can’t wait to surprise you with the South Sea pearl and diamond earrings he’s saved for this day. It’s his baby girl’s first day on set, only the best to commemorate the occasion.

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[whoops-all-jennas]

Look Who's Inside Again pt 1.

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

"Well, well. Look who's inside again."

"Went out to look for a reason to hide again."

Summary: This is your first time playing a major role in a movie and it's intimidating. Jenna comforts you after you hide away in your trailer.

a/n: y/f/m means your favorite media. movie, book, anime, video game, whatever.

Part 1. Part 2.

The muted sound of everyone talking fills my ears as I zone out. The first few days on set are being used to get the cast adjusted to each other. I've never had such a major role before in a big movie, to say I'm nervous is an understatement.

I already have trouble talking to people normally, how am I supposed to talk to celebrities? Especially when they're the ones approaching me. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"Y/n?" A voice enters my head, my head perking up at the mention of my name. I meet my eyes to Jenna's. "Are you okay?"

"I uh, yeah I'm doing good." I force a smile before looking to the side, avoiding her gaze. I have never felt more parasocial in my life. How am I supposed to hold a conversation with these people, especially Jenna, when I feel like I already know too much about them and they know nothing about me.

The main cast consists of four people. Jenna Ortega, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, and I. It's one of those horror movies where it's a group of teenagers investigating something where they should die because of it, but we all know they won't because it's a movie.

"So are you excited? This is your first major role right?" I turn towards the voice to meet Finn. "This could be a big debut for you."

"Yeah I'm excited." I grab my arm, holding myself and taking up as little space as possible. "I'm mostly nervous though, a lot can happen."

I feel Jenna's gaze on me, so I turn to look at her to find a look of curiosity in her eyes. "It can be intimidating, but you can do it. I believe in you." Jenna's genuine smile meets my uncertain face.

Jenna saying 'I believe in you' repeats in my head like a metronome. This somehow makes me feel more nervous and also safer at the same time.

I just don't want to embarrass myself in front of these people, especially Jenna.

It seems the conversation continued while I was in my head. Everyone's eyes were on me expectingly. Did they ask me something?

"Sorry, what'd you guys say?" I ask, Finn and Wyatt look at each for a moment with a face that I can't tell is annoyance or uncertainty. "It wasn't important." Wyatt states.

That feeling of safety is now gone, my heart beating at a thousand miles an hour.

Was it important?

I feel my legs start to shake from the nerves, as if I could fall at the slightest inconvenience.

The nervousness replaced with anxiety and uncontrollable thoughts. 'Did I already blow it before I did a single scene? Does everyone think I'm annoying? That I'm distant?'

I find Jenna's worried gaze on me yet again, causing me to look at the ground for a moment before trying to keep eye contact with the main cast and failing. "I'll be back."

I quickly find myself walking to my assigned trailer, my pace faster than usual. When I finally find myself inside, I close the door pushing my back against it before sliding down. I sit there with my knees to my chest and head in my arms wrapped around my legs.

I already decorated my trailer to procrastinate on meeting the others. I tried my best to make it feel like home, bringing posters and collectibles from different pieces of media I enjoy. The blinds are closed, blocking the light sure, but also separating the trailer from the set.

Luckily, I also brought some string lights to hang across the ceiling. I don't know if I could handle the harsh florescent lights my entire time here.

I take a moment to try to take control of my breathing, doing the breathing exercises I've been instructed since I was little.

I'm interrupted with knocking on the door I'm leaning on. I stand to open the door to find Jenna Ortega on the other side. I still can't believe I'm seeing her in person and on talking terms.

Well, if I ever actually try to talk to her that is.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on you. It seemed like something was wrong." Her worried yet genuine glance meets mine.

"I'm- I don't know." I cut myself off to stop myself from lying, biting my bottom lip.

Jenna looks past me for a moment. "Can I come in?"

I nod, opening the door more and taking a step back. Jenna walks past me, she's wearing this nice perfume that fills the scentless trailer.

She looks around, admiring the decorations. "I like the string lights, I can't handle the florescent lights they use in these."

I close the door before approaching the built in couch. "Thanks, I actually wasn't aware of them until I got here. Luckily, I brought them from home by chance."

Jenna turns, taking the seat next to me. "Do you wanna talk about what's wrong? I understand if you don't want to."

"I-"

I cut myself off again, unsure what to say. "I don't know."

My heart is still beating to the bpm of flight of the bumblebee.

Jenna gives me a genuine smile, trying to make me feel comfortable, before glancing around the room again. Her eyes linger on the merchandise of different medias.

"How about we talk about media we like?" Her genuine gaze meeting mine. "I'll start, I really like Breaking Bad. It's kinda a guilty pleasure of mine."

My eyes slightly light up.

"I also really like Breaking Bad." I say, trying to reflect her genuineness. "I really like the character development and how much they change throughout the story."

Jenna scots a little closer. "I know right?! it's so good!" She seems so interested in the conversation.

She looks into my eyes with a smile. "Now it's your turn."

I look around the room for a moment, unsure what I should say. For a lot of my life I was told I can get annoying when I delve into my interests. It's like whenever I start talking about it I can't stop.

I don't want her to think I'm annoying, but I also don't want to tear down all the work she did to try to get me comfortable.

"I really like y/f/m, I just love the universe that they made so much and the characters." I start speaking, pausing for a moment to read Jenna's expression.

She is smiling and has this look in her eyes, like a genuine interest in what I'm talking about. My eyes feel like an open door as she looks into them.

"You can keep talking, I was listening." Her smile somehow becomes more genuine, causing a smile to creep up on my face.

For the past few minutes Jenna let me ramble about y/f/m. I soon realize I've likely been rambling for way too long "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how long I was talking." My smile fades, turning to embarrassment in an instant.

"What, no it's okay." She puts a hand on my knee comfortingly. "I was interested in what you were talking about."

I look at her eyes, her genuine eyes complimented with her genuine smile.

She is just so genuine.

"Are you sure I'm not being annoying?" I ask, insecurity laced in my voice.

She nods to me, her smile fills my heart.

I'll never get over the way she looks at me. As if she's actually interested in the conversation, interested in who I am.

I find myself looking down to the couch cushion, hiding my face. Soft gentle sobs start to escape my body, my shoulders slightly shaking.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jenna scots closer, her hand gently grabbing my unstable shoulders.

I sniffle before getting my head up, revealing my glossy eyes and a few tears. My head feels like a boulder, trying to keep it lifted on top of my shoulders.

I shake my head with a smile. "It's stupid."

"There isn't a stupid reason to cry." Jenna says comfortingly, rubbing my shoulder with her thumb as she rests her hand there.

I look away again for a moment before meeting Jenna's gentle eyes. I open my mouth, no sound coming out as I try to decide my words before I speak. "It's just you're so nice. Most people either just let me speak, but are clearly disinterested or just flat out call me annoying."

Jenna's eyes are laced with empathy as she looks into my eyes like windows.

I sniffle before speaking again, fanning my face for moment. "And you just seem so interested and intrigued in what I'm talking about, and it just means so much and- I don't know."

She continues to rub my arm. There was a moment of silence, the only noise being my soft sobs until Jenna spoke. "I loved seeing the excitement and passion you have about y/f/m. You should talk to me more about it some time." She says with a smile.

I nod. "Yeah, I'd like that." A sniffle interrupts the middle of my sentence.

"I should probably try to calm down, I don't really want to go back outside looking like this." I motion my hands over my face, addressing my puffy eyes and tear streaked face.

Jenna breaks eye contact for a moment, finding the tv before meeting my gaze again. "How about we watch something?"

I nod, she stands and quickly finds the remote. "Before we start watching something, do you need a hug? You're allowed to say no."

I love how considerate she is.

I nod, standing up. She holds her arms out, inviting me into her arms. I put my arms around her lower back and she wraps hers around my upper back, one hand resting on the back of my head playing with my hair comfortingly. She holds me in her warm, gentle embrace for a moment before letting go.

She meets my face with a smile. "Feel better?"

I quickly nod with a smile on my face, happiness in my eyes.

"Do you have any comfort movies?" Jenna asks, finding her seat back on the couch.

I find my seat next to her. "I really like Studio Ghibli movies."

Jenna points the remote to the TV. "How about Spirited Away?"

"That sounds good to me." I say with a nod, looking at her one more time with a smile before we start the movie.

a/n: hii guys, hope you enjoyed my first Jenna fic. this was inspired by the tiktoks I've seen about the way Jenna looks at people. maybe if you guys behave you'll get a Jenna fic that has actual romance in it next.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[betafreud]

FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO GET INTO MERLIN BUT DONT HAVE TIME TO WATCH THE SHOW: this is how every episode of merlin goes.

--------

bad guy: (in a dark forest outside camelot) ARGH uther will PAY for what he has done to me

SCENE CHANGE

merlin: im gonna do my chores with magic

gaius: merlin dont do that. now go clean the leech cage. and check on arthur. and fetch me a plant.

merlin: UGH my life sucks

SCENE CHANGE

merlin: hi arthur wake up

arthur: i actually hate you. leave. but wait actually nvm come with me on a quest im gonna be the king baby. we ride at dawn

merlin: ok

gwen: hi merlin hi m'lord im not important in this episode. but im here to cut the homoerotic tension.

arthur: merlin get out

SCENE CHANGE

bad guy: (still in the woods) im making an evil plan

SCENE CHANGE

kilgarrah: psst. pssst. merlin

merlin: wtf do u want

kilgarrah: arthur needs u theres an evil guy. also can u set me free. and morgana is evil

merlin: what no arthur doesnt need me. and no sorry. and what no kys morgana is my friend

kilgarrah: ok fuck u then

merlin: wait no what where r u going

SCENE CHANGE

bad guy: (via magical telepathy) haha i captured morgana

uther: oh no

arthur: we gotta rescue her. merlin u idiot lets go. i hate u.

SCENE CHANGE

arthur: (in front of a campfire) ykow merlin ur pretty cool

merlin: thanks. ur a fucking asshole.

arthur: lets run away together

merlin: ok-omg look a bad guy

bad guy: im gonna kill u

arthur: (swinging his sword and missing) nuh uh

merlin: (laser eyes) yay hes dead

arthur: UGH merlin ur so useless why didnt u help me.

merlin: kys.

SCENE CHANGE

gaius: whats wrong merlin

merlin: i feel like arthur hates me. i wish he could know how powerful i really am.

gauis: damn that sucks. anyways have u cleaned the leech cage yet

(ROARING LAUGH TRACK)

[writers-hes]

Sydney Saw it First (c. berzatto x reader)

You’re Carmy’s friend from Noma and he asks tou to mentor Marcus before he heads to Copenhagen to stage. Sydney thinks you’re both fools in love and she’s determined to fix it. (fluff, sydney being the best wingman, inspired by the scene in new girl when nick points his shoes to jess, two fools in love)

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It was hard for anyone to read if the Carmen Berzatto cared.

Some days, he was loving but most days he was tenacious. It’s not like he meant it. It was just how he was wired; how he reacts to things. The crew learned that the hard way, when he exploded on Marcus, when he screamed at Sydney…when the stress gets to him, it really gets to him.

He’s imposed penance on himself for his actions, secluding himself from the world…being unreachable. If there was one thing in the world that he craved and that he was afraid of, it was love. So he secludes himself until he feels alone. Relationships were unnatural to him.

But it came naturally with you.

You were training to become a pastry chef at Noma when Carmy was there. You met each other at the halls, shared friends that it was inevitable for you two to become friends. He was your first taste tester when you first made croissants. He helped you make your own sourdough starter for the sourdough cookies that you were experimenting on. You were the first person whom he cooked his mom’s picatta. You were his sous chef, helping him prep the vegetables on important dates. When news arrived detailing Mikey’s death, you were the first person he called. 

You two were great. You were great.

If anyone deserved praise, Carmy thought that it was you.

He didn’t know why but when he saw that Marcus was really interested in pastry, he called you; asked you to come and teach a really, really eager student that was going to stage in Copenhagen soon. Sydney also suggested that sweets are needed in a restaurant. You didn’t hesitate to board the plane upon his request. If anything, you were glad that he was finally asking you for a favor. It only meant that he was still—if not more—comfortable with you. 

You arrived in Chicago all smiles, and greetings. It was Richie and Carmy who picked you up from the airport and Richi was floored. How did his cousin even manage to tolerate you? He didn’t hate you immediately, of course. In any case, Carmy told you about his little girl; you decided to bring her a little gift. 

“I didn’t know what to get you but Carmy said that you have a daughter so I got this instead,” you said, extending a toy. “My niece has the same one…so, I figured…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie nodded. He muttered a small ‘thanks’ before helping you with you luggage. 

The night before, Carmy instructed everyone during family to behave. 

“Look, there will be no funny business, alright? My friend is flying in tomorrow to oversee Marcus and act as his mentor while we fix the Bear. No taking her knife away, no screaming, no fighting, no fucking anything, alright, chefs?” he asked. When he was met with silence, “Alright, Chefs?”

A couple of ‘heards’ were thrown. 

“Who is this friend, anyway, Jeff?” Tina asked. “You didn’t tell us to behave when Sydney over here first came,”

“Someone from Copenhagen. She, uh—“

“She?” Sweeps asked, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “You got a girl, chef?”

“No,” he replied. “She studied in Copenhagen as a pastry chef, okay? No big deal—“ he proceeds to mention your name and how you’re just really super cool. “No big deal—“

“Wait, Chef, that’s a big deal!” Marcus said. “Oh, you know her recipes are all over my station, right?” he asked. “Sydney—“

“I went to the place she worked at in New York after I graduated. Everything’s just so…good. Amazing,” she recalled. “So, yes, it’s a big deal,”

“Yeah, whatever. Just promise me to behave, alright?” Carmy asked. “She’ll have to make do with what we currently have but I’ll try to stock up and set up the station before she arrives tomorrow.” 

-

You arrived at the Beef—er, the Bear a day after your arrival in Chicago. You were able to find a place that was near the city center for a good deal. You were here indefinitely, still trying to figure out if you wanted to run your own bakery or just work with others for the rest of your life. Seeing Carmy take the leap was insipiring. 

“Hello, chefs, I’m Y/N,” you said, a friendly smile gracing your features. Carmy was right beside you, watching everyone. “I’m a pastry chef and I graduated with Carmy in Copenhagen. I’m here to mentor Marcus but of course, if you have any questions regarding anything, you can ask me. I know how to cook too…and uh, I’ll be taking care of family tonight,”

Carmy jerks from his relaxed position. 

“You sure?” he asks softly. “I can take care of family, if you’re too tired.”

“Yeah. It’s like initiation,” you nod, looking at him and then looking back at the new faces in front of you again. “Do you have any questions…”

Sydney raises her hand. 

“Um, I’m sorry if this comes across rude but why are you here?” she asked.

“Oh, well, I’m not really tied down to anything right now. When Carmy called me, asking if I could come here, I decided to go. I’m here in Chicago indefinitely and I’ve been receiving invitations to cook, teach a class, whatever. I might accept some of those,” you said. Sydned nodded. Damn, Noma’s chefs were being chased from left and right. She was in the presence of two. 

“Do you have a little notebook?” Tina asked, making Sydney scofd. “With recipes?”

“Um, no,” you shook your head. “I keep all my notes in my head and then write it afterwards,” Tina liked you already. 

“What do you think about Carmen Berzatto—“

“Anyway, that’s all, Chefs! Marcus, come to the office with me, chef,” Carmy said, breaking up the huddle, and making you laugh. He discreetly pulls down your shirt, a sign that you should follow him too to the office. When you were both out of earshot, Sydney asked no one in particular.

“That girl and Chef? There’s something,”

That afternoon, during family, Sydney watched the two of you like a hawk. Confirming her suspicions when Carmy stayed for family and sat beside you.

-

Sydney notices it for the second time. You were going over the Noma “picture book” with Marcus, telling him how some of the desserts came about.

“What’s this?” Marcus asked, pointing at a photo of the dessert that put you on the map. 

“That’s a dish of candied hallabong peel, with a prosecco peach sorbet, on a bed of meringue, topped with candied cherries. I got it because some of my friends went to Jeju sometime and brought back this orange hybrid. I think….I think we can recreate it but it wouldn’t be the same without the orange.”

“What about the flesh and the juice?”

“I turned it into like an orange-chocolate cake with chocolate mousse,”

Carmy was just passing by but he decided to watch you interact with his employees instead. 

“Anyways, where’s your chocolate cake? Let’s taste it and compare it from the last one. Also, I can send you my recipe for sourdough doughnuts. Just give me your email,” you said, looking up briefly to find Carmy already looking at you. It made him feel good to see you incorporate yourself so well in the kitchen. Well, it’s not like the Bear is open but his staff went to you for some tips and advice. They were all undergoing some sort of training to make everything more elevated. “Hey, Carm. Do you need anything?” 

“Hey-hey,” he coughed, ashamed for being caught. “Nothing. Uh—“

“Chef, did you ever try Y/N’s stuff?” Marcus asked. He’d really, really, really want to taste something that you made someday. They were all delicate and so detailed. It’s probably why you got multiple awards at such a young age.

“I did. She used to bring big Tupperware containers of things they made in the kitchen,” 

“He finished them all,” you told Marcus. “Wouldn’t spare me a bite,”

“I don’t know, bug,” he teased. “I vividly remember you begging me to do it because you were so sick of fucking croissants.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, a playful smile on your face. “Go on now. Marcus and I have stuff to do and you’re distracting us.”

“In my own restaurant,” Carmy mutters, shaking his head. Sydney’s eyes immediately directed to Tina. Did you see? Did you hear the word ‘Bug’?. Tina only shrugged. 

-

Sugar dropped in to check on the improvements being done at the Bear  when she saw you and Carmen at the back, talking. She had to double take what she saw because it was quite…odd to see him talk to you with the same twinkle he used to have. She has never seen him like this. He was genuinely laughing at some of the things that you were saying, a shared plate of leftover chocolate cake between the two of you. 

“Who’s the girl outside?” Sugar asked, looking at Richie and Sydney for answers. 

“Some fancy pastry chef Carmy met in Copenhagen,” Richie replied. “It’s a whole bet now, you know? They’re always out in their own world ever since she got here,”

“Everyone puts in 10 to predict what’s going to happen,” Tina said. “You’re betting?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sugar says, giving a bill to Tina. “I bet…I bet they’ll fall in love right before she leaves Chicago. Like, on the way to the airport. Carmy’s going to tell her that he loves her and she stays,”

Laughter echoes in the room. 

“This is not some fucking movie, cousin,” Richie said. “Obviously, Carmy’s not gonna do shit about it.”

“I think…she’ll call him over and they’ll share a moment,” Marcus said. “He’s always at her place, did you know that?”

Meanwhile, unaware of the ongoing bet, Carmy looks at you.

“What do you think about Chicago?” he asked, a cigarette hanging idly on his fingers. 

“It’s nice…chilly,” you said. “But it’s nice. I’ve been offered jobs here, you know?”

“Hm?” he asked. “Are you planning to take them?”

“I’m…thinking about them. They’re all the same but like, I want my own bakery, you know? My own place.” you said. “It’s going to be a lot of work if I do that and I don’t necessarily have the staff to do all that.” you said. 

“If you want…you can come stay with us if you’re not sure,” he offers. “Like a pastry chef. Actually, I’ll have to ask Sugar and Sydney if it’s alright with them but you can stay here,”

“Bear, I don’t want to impose—“

Sydney was walking outside to throw the trash but she stopped her trackes when she heard you talk. 

“I want you here,” Carmy said with conviction. “But if you don’t-don’t like it here in Chicago, I wouldn’t mind either, you know? It’s just that…I want you here and-and fuck, I don’t know. I guess working with you made it so much more fun again, you know? Like us in Copenhagen. I mean, we’re always a team and-and it’s nice to have you here with me. Sugar and spice? Sweet and spicy or whatever the fuck they called us back then,” he chuckled, inhaling his cigarette to calm himself down. “We can make it work,”

“Yeah, yeah. You go talk about it to Nat and Syd,” you said, taking a swig of your water. “And then we’ll talk. Cool?”

“Cool,” he shrugged. Sydney leaves and goes back to where the commotion was. 

“I change my scenario,” she said. 

“You can’t do that, Sydney,” Richie said. “It’s a bet! You have to pay again,”

Sydney breathed, what was ten more, right? Fuck. 

“Fuck, sure, okay. Whatever,” she said, giving Richie the bill. “She’ll stay here. She’ll realize the there’s nothing waiting for her back home and she’ll stay here,”

“Where did you get this?” Fak asked. “Quite—oh my God. Sydney, did you fucking cheat?” 

“No, I didn’t fucking cheat!” she defended, it was a lie. “Can’t you see the two of them? Always in their own world? How would Carmy let her go?”

“Jeffrey has a point,” Tina shrugged. “But if she loses, just know that you lost twice, Jeff,”

“I know,” 

-

You, Sydney, and Carm all went to his apartment. It was where the two of them made a menu while you acted as a consultant and a taste tester. Their palates were fucked and they didn’t know what to do or what to cook anymore. So they asked you. But you weren’t there today. You and Marcus were in your apartment, making up stuff for dessert. The Beef has officially closed down and is a rubbled mess. There was no space and Carmy just wanted to be there with you.

“Can I ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off?” Sydney asked while she watched Carmy plate the hamachi crudo. 

“Hm?”

“Do you…have feelings for Y/N?” she asked, looking at Carmy. He blushed, his ears turning red for being caught.

“Is it obvious?”

“To everyone but her,” she shrugged.

“Fuck, really? I thought I was being discreet,”

“Oh, you can stay here! You’re so good and so smart and so pretty,” Sydney gushed, mocking Carmen.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “I…I do,”

“Yeah?”

“I just…just…she’s uh, so amazing, and like, I’ve been feeling these feelings since…since Copenhagen,” he mumbles, finishing the garnish with an oil. 

“Damn. You never made a move?” she asked, getting forks. She gives one to Carmen and they both taste the crudo. It was amazing. “That’s good,”

“It is. Good job, Syd,” Carmy replied.

“It was her who told me to try adding jalapeno slices,” Syd said. 

“You can’t do that,” Carmy warned her. Why did she want to get you two together so bad? “But I haven’t done anything. I mean, like, she was dating these guys and they’re so cool that-that it was never really my turn,” he remembered.

“But you’re the best chef in the world! That trumps that,” she encouraged. “None of them worked out?”

“No,” Carmy shook his head. “She’d always end things and I don’t want that for myself. She told me none of them worked out…wasn’t what she was, uh, looking for?”

“Oh,” Sydney nodded. “Well, if you’re feeling brave enough…”

“I haven’t been having…fun,” Carmy acknowledges. “With the Beef and the Bear until she got here, you know? Made me feel like I was young in Copenhagen again,”

“Another question. You can say fuck off if you want,” Sydney says and watches as Carmy bites a smile. “The last one. Is that why you asked her to stay? It’s just that I heard you the other day and…”

“Fuck off,” he laughs but Sydney noticed how everything about him conveyed everything that she needed to know. 

-

“This is a quenelle,” you told Marcus. You, Marcus, Carm, and Sydney were at your apartment. It was bigger than Carmy’s and your oven didn’t have jeans in them. “This took me at least a hundred tries,” you chuckled. “You just…away, back, and then hands…” You demonstrated, making a quenelle of a yuzu mousse.

“Damn, Chef. How’d you do that?” Marcus asked, trying it for himself. He failed, his quenelle being a little bit smaller than yours. 

“I had a friend named Luca. He didn’t let me out of the kitchen until I made a perfect one,” you recalled. “Carmy was there and he was laughing at me. He could do it in like three tries and I remember hating him,”

“You hate me?” he asked, leaning on the countertop. He didn’t like to hear about Luca. He only wanted you to talk about the two of you.

“Hey, Bear. Try this?” you asked, spooning him the raspberry curd. Carmy opens his mouth and you walk over, feeding him the pinkish liquid and then watching his face. “It goes with a black sesame shell. Do you like it?”

He notices your close proximity and flushes.

“Y-yeah,” he coughed, looking away. “Really good. Uh, very good,”

“No notes?” you asked and he swore he could kiss you right there because you were so beautiful.

“No notes,”

“Thanks, Chef,” you said. Sydney whistles as you help Marcus master his quenelle. Carmy looks at her and she teases him with a mockery of what he just said.

Carmy and Marcus left after cleaning up. You and Sydney decided to have a girl’s night. You were both sitting on the couch, mud masks on your faces when she turned to you fully.

“You know, he likes you right?”

“Who?” you asked, trying to fit a handful of chips.

“Carmy,” you heard and you choked on the bits of chips in your mouth. 

“Fuck!” you choked. “Sydney!” You were coughing while Sydney handed you a glass of vodka cranberry. You gulp it down. “You—can’t say shit like that!”

“What?” she laughed. “Look, I’m not kidding! Whenever he talks to you, his feet are pointed at you. I’ve read enough fucking books and body language shit to know that he’s interested,”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “That’s bullshit,”

“It’s not though,” she shrugged. “He asked you to stay for a reason,”

“He needs a pastry chef,” you shrugged. “Besides, he and I are friends, Sydney. I’ve been trying to get him jealous all my time in Copenhagen but he never…he never got the signal,”

“Oh,” Sydney nods. Two idiots in love. “Have you ever tried telling him?”

“Of course not! He’s always on about how he doesn’t have the energy to love or date. I tried the jealousy thing before but it never worked. Trust me, there’s nothing.”

-

Carmy arrives at your doorstep the next morning, bright and early. Sydney had already left, telling you something about stopping by at her dad’s apartment to get stuff. You were going to the Bear with him to help Sydney choose plates for the restaurant. 

“Good morning,” he greets. Two cups of take-out coffee in his hands. “I got us some coffee while we walk on the way,”

“Thank you,” You took the cup from his hands and clutched your jacket tighter. It was so, so, so cold. “Didn’t know it was going to be this chilly today,”

“You wanna wear my jacket?”

“You’ll be cold,”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, already taking off the jacket to the best of his one-handed ability. He was only wearing a gray sweater underneath. “I have something. See?” He doesn’t take no for an answer, taking your coffee and your bag from you so you could wear the colorful jacket.

“Thanks, Bear,” you said, smiling at him. The sight of you in his clothes does something to him and he couldn’t help except give you a slight nod before forging on in the chilly Chicago weather. 

You both entered the Beef giggling amongst yourselves when the usual buzzing stopped.

“Remember when Luca—“

You halted, finding the silence odd. You looked around to see everyone looking at you.

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Carmy asked, removing his hand from the small of your back. “Syd—“

“Love the sweater,” Richie teases. You look down and feel the warmth on your cheeks. 

“It was cold and he asked me to wear it,” you shrugged, leaving Carmen to deal with the staff out front. You were signalling Sydney for help but she only looked away. Traitor. “Um—“

“Y/N, if you could please help me out here,” Carmy called you. 

“Your boyfriend’s calling,”

“He’s not!” you huffed before walking over. “What is it?”

“I need you to time me, is that okay?” he asked. He nodded towards the stopwatch and you complied. “Thank you. I just need to check or like, map out the kitchen you know?”

“Of course,” you replied. 

“Do you need help getting on—“

“It’s okay it’s just an old thing,” you replied.

“Yo, cousin! If you’re done eye fucking, Sugar needs you.” Richie calls.

“We’re not eye-eye fucking!” you complained. “What the fuck?” You stood up from your corner before you could even work and accidentally looked down. If a man is interested his feet will—

You move to the side and Carmy follows. And then to the side again. 

“Y/N–“

“Stay there,” you asked, walking around him and him turning around. “Carm!”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders. He looks down to his shoes. “Are my shoes dirty?”

“No, it’s just—“ you tried again but Carm still followed. “Sydney told me about like, how when a guy is, uh,”

“Cousin!”

“Fuck, okay. Let’s talk about it later okay? Once everyone’s out?” he asked, looking at you. “Can we do that?” His jacket felt softer on you than it ever did on him.

“Yea-yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll go help Sydney,”

The afternoon passed by and you were alone at The Bear. You waited for Carmen to finish up at the dining area like you promised. Your heart was beating so fast, maybe a thousand miles an hour. What Sydney said has been on your mind and what if it wasn’t true and you get embarrassed? Fuck, could you even handle that?

You sighed, burying your head between your hands when Carmy walks over to you. 

“What’s up?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod. “Can you stay there and just, I don’t know, be Carmy?” you asked, standing up to test the theory again. He just stands there, dumbfounded. You circle around him and he follows. You were looking on the ground. 

“Fuck, what the fuck?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with my shoes? I know they’re old and not—“

“Carmen, shh,”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders for the second time that day to steady you. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck, I don’t—“

“What’s wrong?”

“Sydney told me that there’s like, this body language thing and like, uh, says that when a guy is interested his shoes are always pointing at you and well, she told me to look at yours,” you rambled, looking away in embarrassment. “Look, if this will be weird between the two of us, I mean—“

“Why would it matter?” he asked, hands inching closer to your neck. He was nervous but maybe this is the opening that he’s been waiting for for years. When you didn’t reply, he asked again. “Why would it matter?”

“Because…because I’ve been trying to make you jealous for years in Copenhagen and it never worked,” you whispered. You were embarrassed. It felt like you were in high school telling your crush that you liked him. “I know you don’t see me that way,” you replied, trying to look for the right words. Carmy lets you finish. He wanted to hear you. “And it’s fine. If this is stupid, let’s forget that this ever happened. Okay? God, I’m so fucking embarrassed right now,” 

“Hey, hey,” he cooes, his thumb tucked the hair back and then caressed your cheek. “Whoever said that I wasn’t jealous? I had to leave all the time because I was so fucking jealous. Those guys were cool. Don’t-don’t be embarrassed, okay? I like hearing that-you, uh, like me,”

“Carmy…don’t lie to me, okay? You don’t have to pretend—hm,” 

Carmy had just kissed you. Carmen Berzatto just kissed you. You were clutching on his shirt so tightly, afraid that if he lets go, he’ll be gone. But he doesn’t. He just trails his hands down to your back, touching skin to skin until you’re one. 

“I’ve been waiting years to do that,” Carmy rasps, breathing heavily. 

“Yeah? Then, do it again,” you whispered, smirking slightly at how he seemed to blush hard. Before you could tease him though, he tucks your hair back again, bringing your lips closer to his.

He did.

A/N: Thank you for giving my recent fics so much love and for being so motivating. Your kind words really make my day and I hope that you love this too. Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thanks again!

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Co-Stars pt.6

Callum Turner X Actress! Reader

Summary: Shooting a sex scene as a couple can lead to some stuff...

Warning: +18/ smut/ voyeurism/ public sex/ fingering/ unprotected sex/ Swearing/ use of Y/n/ nudity/

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Thank you whoever wrote that request! <3

After they got together, filming scene together was more fun, especially the sex scenes. Which that was what they were going to shoot today, she was nervous because Callum suggested that they had sex on set, while filming. Y/n was curious, she wanted to see what it would be like to have people watching them while they had sex. When the costume designer finished the last touch on her outfit, she looked at it in the mirror, it was beautiful, it was a one piece, made in white lace that was see through. She had a thong that matched her skin color, so that no one saw her private parts. She made her way on set, where they weren’t that many people. When they filmed a love scene, they would only allow the people that are really important to the set, not wanting to have a crowd of people watching the actors having sex.

‘’So, Y/n, your character comes in Bucky’s room, to surprise him. You know what you need to say?’’ The director asks. She nodded. ‘’Action!’’ Y/n slowly walked into the room, in her character mindset of course. Callum was pretending to be asleep, excited to film with his girl. The floor cracked; it was supposed to do so. Callum woke up and looked at Y/n. ‘’Rose, what are you doing here?’’ he asked with an American accent. She swallowed and cleared her throat. ‘’I, uh, couldn’t sleep’’ she said, with a seductive voice. Callum let his eyes trail all over her body, she was beautiful. ‘’Why?’’ He breathed out. ‘’Couldn’t stop thinking about you’’ she whispered. She took the lingerie off, slowly, like it was written. She walked towards the bed, slowly, making sure to sway her hips. Callum seated at the side of the bed, so she’ll be standing between his legs. When she was in this position, she took his hands in her face. Bringing him closer to her face, their lips were close to the other. ‘’You thought about me?’’ He breathed as she nodded. ‘’What did you think about exactly?’’ He kissed her exposed stomach, placing wet kisses while looking up at her. ‘’What we did in the shower’’ she whispered. Callum smirked, slowly putting his head up. ‘’Did you touch yourself while you were thinking about us?’’ he said. Y/n nodded and blushed. He made a move that made the woman fell on top of him, but slowly. They both kissed passionately, touching each other’s body. Exploring it like it was the first time, even though they had sex multiple times. ‘’Show me’’ he ordered, with a low voice. ‘’Show you what?’’ she faked being innocent, because her character was. ‘’How you were touching yourself’’ He honestly said. Y/n frowned her eyebrows in pleasure, she bit her lips as Callum brought them under the covers.

She looked at Callum nervously, because her character was, Rose was a shy person, she did things out of love. ‘’Do you trust me?’’ Callum mumbled. Y/n nodded, he took her hand and brought it to her clitoris. She started to move her fingers on herself, with her free hand, she took Callum’s face to bring him closer. They both kissed, it was filled with desire and lust. ‘’Does it feel good?’’ he whispered. ‘’Yes’’ she breathed out. With his hand, he moved down to reach her entrance. He entered two fingers inside of her, pushing her panties to the side before he went in. The woman moaned, but it wasn’t a fake one, they were doing it in front of the filming crew. It turned her on, knowing that they weren’t acting, it was real. The white sheet covered their body, giving them a fake intimacy. Y/n felt her boyfriend get hard, and he was really turned on. Having sex in public was new for them, but it really was exciting. He moved his fingers faster, so did she. Y/n felt a not forming in her stomach, she was close. Callum felt his girlfriend clench around his fingers, he smirked. ‘’My beautiful girl, so sweet, so shy, and yet, so needy for me’’ In the last part, his British accent slipped out a little bit, but only Y/n picked it up. The praise made the not burst, she came on his fingers as she moaned. ‘’Oh my!’’ she breathed out. Callum took his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, he sucked on his fingers to drink her juice. It wasn’t in the script, that was pure Callum. ‘’Are you ready, sweetheart?’’ he said, with his American accent. Y/n couldn’t trust her own voice, she had to nod, or they would probably get caught.

‘’Cut! Holy Hell guys! That was amazing, it almost looked real! You have talent! We’re going to leave, to allow you guys to calm down, just come and get us when you’re ready!’’ The director praised them. Their bubble popped, they almost forgot that they weren’t alone, but they were still excited. ‘’Thank you’’ Y/n cleared her throat. The second the door was shut; Callum’s mouth was all over hers. ‘’ You naughty girl, you like having people watching us fuck?’’ he growled in her ears. Y/n moaned to his sentence, grabbing his back. ‘’No teasing, I need you to fuck me right now’’ she said, between kisses. As soon as she finished her sentence, Callum buried himself into her. Y/n arched her back, while holding on his back. Her nails were scratching his back, but he liked the pain. ‘’Holy shit’’ she whimpered. He rocked his hips fast, the rhythm was erotic, raw and was really showing the urgency of the couple. They needed each other, no time for foreplay or teasing, it was raw. ‘’You’re so fucking tight’’ he growled. ‘’And you’re so damn big’’ she moaned as she threw her head on the pillow. Callum smirked as he quickened the pace, chasing his own orgasm. He knew Y/n was close, he could feel her walls clench around him, and she was squirming under him. The smell that filled their nose was intoxicating, the mix of her perfume, his and the smell of sex was driving them mad. ‘’Callum I’m gonna – ‘’ she moaned as she came for the second time. Her walls wouldn’t stop clenching his dick, that triggered his own release. He crashed on top of her, her thighs were shaking from all the pleasure. ‘’We need to do that again’’ she managed to mumble to her boyfriend. Callum chuckled as they both took a moment to catch their breath. ‘’This scene might be sex Oscar worthy’’ he joked as he placed a piece of her hair behind her ears. She laughed and kissed him again. ‘’I don’t think they give Oscars for the best sex scene’’ she laughed. He smiled and kissed her again.

-

‘’I mean, if they were an award for the best intimate scene, you guys would’ve been winners because oh my, it was intense!’’ Jimmy Fallon said. Y/n blushed, remembering the sex they had after. The public screamed in agreement, and Callum laughed. ‘’I mean, we weren’t there, but rumor as it, it was very spicy!’’ Barry said, making Y/n laugh nervously. ‘’That’s when you know how good they are, as actors, because we thought it was real!’’ Jimmy said. Callum laughed again. The couple thought about the same thing: Don’t worry, it was.

[wafywaify]

im so tired but i want to get this out before i forget. this might end up uncomprehensible byt whatever. anyways.

shen qingqiu. shizun. shen yuan, right? that guy. for some reason i have this really strange itch that just- a singer shen yuan au would cure. like im thinking barbie princess and the pauper type singer au. like he was transmigrated a bit after uh binghes blakening ig. maybe he just got out of the abyss, right? on his way to go torture his shizun and all that gof stuff.

shen yuan was just placed into this npc type guy, not relevant to the plot really. maybe hes a brother to uh one of bingges future wife? but anyways, his family's pretty poor so they do all they can to make a few extra coins. he finds out he has a pretty nice voice from um, singing his little sister to sleep? something sweet like that. his family urges him to give it a try, telling him everyone would love his voice. after getting over his embarrassment, he gives it a shot. I imagine he like tries to remember certain songs from yknow. barbie.. barbie songs. i love Barbie.

and hes all like "well no ones gonna recognize it ill just say i wrote it its fineeee" and then that kind of backfires on him when airplane stumbles upon a random dude singing "i need to know" from the hit barbie movie babrie as the island princess. (im just like you, youre just like me!!) actually it'd be funny if he only sung barbie songs. like theyre just melted into his brain after all the times his little sister had forced him to watch them with her. anyways, they hit it off.. in more ways then one. that sounds like a sex joke, its not. im implying he beat bro up. pidw author and all.

anways uh maybe airplane like helps him out and like they get shen yuan to start performing for like important things. idk. uh. good entertainment for the richer ppl yknow. hes become pretty popular now. its hard to book him, with all the requests hes getting now. now this is where bingge comes in. bro needs a performer for an upcoming.. wedding? i guess? he needs to entertain guests so he books the most popular guy right? shen yuan, upon realizing binghe, the heavenly demon emperor, wants to hire him, absolutely freaks out.

he doesnt want anything to do with the protagonist!! he was living a pretty good life!! and every man that comes into contact with binghe either ends in a gruesome death or are thrown into cellars! thats just how pidw was written!! so obviously, the best course of action is to ignore it! ignore everything! uhhh.. bad idea, really. he basically just sends a letter back saying "haha sorry cant, busy!!!"

and binghe.. binghe does not take that all too well. who would've thought. not shen yuan. who dared ignore the literal emperor!? conqueror of realms??!! and so, he sets out to go see for himself how "busy" this lowly singer is!! que dramatic scene where binghe walks into a pub and theres like at least 50 or so people crowded to the back. hes confused at first, before he hears this almost angelic voice. it seems to wash over the entire pub, entrancing its residents. like a siren calling out.

there isnt exactly a "stage" in this pub, so he cant really see whos singing. he quickly makes his way towards the crowd and pushed his way through. after the people realize who he is, its easy enough. his eyes land on one of the most beautiful humans he's ever seen. his eyes are almost crystal clear in this lighting. a warmish brown, almost orange. his auburn brown hair is fully down, embellished with golden jewels and hair tinsel. a strange look.. but it works on him. and his skin..

before he can ogle anymore, the angelic mans voice tapers off, leaving the crowd disappointed. binghe looks up to see the other staring at him, eyes wide.

might continue this tmr or like fix it up a bit.. but yeah.. singer shen yuan save me.. please i need him so badly. also i love fics that have bingge and shen yuan bickering theyre always so good. i love them being silly in strange ways. part 2!!!

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 8

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

This chapter makes me want to cry especially knowing what I’ve prewritten for them.

Content Warnings - Talk of rape and murder, mental torture, talks of prostitution, tooth rotting fluff

One moment you were all sitting on the beach, the next moment, Finnick was bolting into the jungle after Katniss. You get up to follow but Johanna tells you to stay put.

She returns a minute later, beckoning for you and Peeta to follow. Something must be wrong with them.

You can spot Finnick and Katniss huddled on the jungle floor, hands over their ears as they try to block out some kind of noise.

“Jabberjays,” Johanna sighs. “They’re stuck in that wedge for the next hour.”

“Can they hear us?” Peeta asks as he tries to break the barrier with his machete.

“Nope,” Johanna states.

You sit on the other side of the barrier from Finnick, watching as the birds torture him. His nose is bleeding but otherwise he seems physically unharmed.

Who would they use against you if you were in there? Would they use the voices of your dead family?

The only person they could hurt you with was the one sitting right in front of you.

An hour can feel like an eternity when you have to sit and watch the one person you love slowly lose their mind. When the barrier drops, Peeta runs to Katniss while you walk slowly towards Finnick.

Sitting down in front of him, you set your good hand next to his to alert him to your presence.

“Finn,” you sigh, seeing the pain in his face when he looks up at you.

“You were screaming,” he states. “They were torturing you and I couldn’t stop them.”

“I’m ok,” you reply.

You sit with him in silence while Johanna rants about the games and Katniss freaks out about her sister. I guess that’s who’s voice she heard.

“Can we go to the beach?” Finnick asks and you nod, walking down with him to the shore.

The two of you sit on the edge of the water, closer than you would usually sit but you can tell he needs the comfort.

“I can’t lose you,” he tells you as you stare out towards the cornucopia.

“I can’t promise you won’t,” you respond. “But I’ll try.”

“No you have to promise,” he states with pain in his voice. “I can’t lose you.”

You look at him and see how honest he is. As much as you’d like to hope he could survive without you, you worry he can’t.

“You won’t,” you sigh, looking into his sea green eyes.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asks. “I need to know you aren’t going to slip away from me.”

You allow him to grab your hand, feeling his calloused fingers against your smooth ones. The jabber jays must have really gotten to him as he never asks for physical contact with you.

Higher up the beach, Katniss notices the scene by the water.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to touch her,” she comments.

“Only he is,” Johanna replies. “Nobody else.” This made sense to Katniss after hearing her scream for Finnick for an hour.

“Why does touching her set her off?” Katniss asks. “I didn’t see her react that way in her games.”

Johanna sighs and looks out towards her two friends.

“She was, uh, raped during her victory tour,” she explains. “Killed the guy during it and hasn’t spoken or allowed people to touch her since. That’s why the capital calls her Feral, but they skewed the story to make it seem like she attacked him unprovoked.”

Katniss silently stares at Y/N, unsure of how to process that information.

“He was a game maker,” Johanna continues. “An important man in the capital. She never healed from it.”

“I don’t know how one would,” Beetee chimes in. “She’s been through a lot.”

“Why aren’t they together?” Peeta asks the older victors.

“They’re stubborn,” Johanna shrugs. “She doesn’t want to hurt him and he has a complicated deal with the capital that would make dating hard.”

“It would be hard to date all those capital women with a girl back home,” Katniss mutters.

“Don’t assume he likes jumping from woman to woman in the capital,” Johanna angrily states. “All victors have duties we don’t have a say in. Ever wonder why most of us have families anymore?”

Katniss swallows and looks at Johanna, shocked by this revelation.

“That could have easily been you.”

“What do you want to do when all of this is over?” Finnick asks you. You’re still holding hands and you’ve moved to rest your head on his shoulder. For once the contact isn’t bothering you.

“Go back to four,” you reply. “To our old routine.”

“That would be nice,” Finnick hums. He wishes so badly that he could tell you everything but he can’t. He barely convinced Plutarch to put you on the rescue list. He wasn’t sold on the idea of you being brought to 13 with your unpredictability.

When this is all over he wants to go back to four with you. He wants to move out of victors village to your own house by the sea with a big garden you can walk freely in. He wants to spend the days outside with you, showing you around the district you haven’t explored in 5 years.

He wants you to be his, permanently. He thinks you’d say yes, but at the same time he isn’t certain. He’s never asked you out for the simple reason that Snow would kill you if he did. He told Finnick as much.

He hopes you realize how much he loves you, even if he can’t show it.

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[sixpennydame]

Make. Believe. ❖ Act 1

Actor!Levi x Fem!Reader

It’s your first sex scene as a leading actress, and it’s with none other than Levi Ackerman. But you both can stay professional….right?

Warnings / Content: NSFW, Minors do not interact, oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal sex

A/N: I've been working on this one shot since April and it's finally here! There will be a Part 2, written from Levi's pov, available now!

Act 2 | Act 3

“Oi, you ok? Ready to do this?”

Levi stands naked before you. It’s nothing new - you’ve seen his nude body several times already while shooting this film. But today is the day that you shoot the main sex scene with him - the first you’ve ever done as a professional actress.

And despite all the preparations you’ve done, you’re nervous as hell about it.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah…I’m ready.”

The Camera Assistant raises the slate, “Scene 24, Take 1…” *Clap*

“Action!”

When your agent told you about the role you knew you were perfect for it. An ingénue role: innocent, pure, but headstrong, and when you finished the audition, you knew you’d gotten it. 

The movie is set in the 1920’s and tells the story about a woman who had been married off to an older, powerful man who owns a large estate. She has an affair with the quiet, mysterious groundskeeper. It’s all about class, duty, and desire.

You knew the role would require several sex scenes, and quite risqué ones at that. But that didn’t bother you. You’d been nude on stage while in acting school and you took your craft seriously.

What made you nervous was that you would be doing the sex scenes with Levi Ackerman. 

You’d had a crush on him since your teenage years, when you saw him in the Attack on Titan series. You, and every other girl that saw him in that show. Ten years later, he was still one of the most sought-after actors in film and television. He excelled in dramatic roles and was a skilled physical actor, even doing most of his own stunts. In interviews, he was always cool and quiet, letting the other actors take the spotlight. He also kept his private life particularly private, and this gave him an air of mystery.

 You weren’t sure what to expect when you met him for the first time with the rest of the cast at the first script table reading.

“Mr. Ackerman, I’ll be playing the part of Anna. It’s an absolute honor to be working with you.”

His grey eyes give you a once over, then he shakes your hand. “Please, call me Levi. I hear this is your first leading role.”

Just shaking his hand, you’re already blushing. How will you react when you actually have to touch him romantically?

You shake those thoughts out of your mind right now. “Y-yes, it is. I’d appreciate any advice you can give me.”

“This director is pretty strict about sticking to the script. I’ve worked with him before. But with love scenes, he’s going to give us a lot of freedom to kind of just do what we want.”

Oh god. He’s already bringing up the sex scenes. And he calls them love scenes. You feel your face getting even hotter. 

He notices. “I’m guessing you’ve never done a love scene before.”

“I uh..” you were going to try to think of something witty to say, but it feels difficult to talk suddenly, “I haven’t, actually.”

He smiles. “It’s normal to feel nervous. The most important thing is for you to trust me, and for us to respect each other.”

The room is filling with more cast and crew as the table reading is about to start. Levi gestures for the both of you to have a seat. “Why don’t we start by getting to know each other after the table reading? When we’re not shooting we can get together and help each other with lines and maybe eat together during breaks. That way, I won’t feel like such a stranger.”

“That would be so nice. Yes, let’s do that,” you reply, feeling better and more comfortable with him already. He just seems so…normal. Not at all the broody, rude character he’s made out to be in the tabloids.

After that, you spent most of your free time with Levi. You’d hang out with each other in your trailers, working on memorizing lines or just talking. The director insisted on shooting most of the movie on location and not in a studio, so you were all left to basically live in a small town in the countryside. Levi would invite you out with other cast and crew friends. He was friendly - much friendlier than you’d imagined him to be - but you noticed that the larger the crowd got, the quieter he became. You much more enjoyed the time when it was just the two of you.

Leading up to your sex scenes, you and Levi were required to meet with an intimacy coach. She was pleased to hear that you and Levi were already getting to know each other, since trust is key. The three of you talked over the scene and the movements required. 

“There will be moments where you two will have to be naked with each other, but when you two actually recreate sexual activity, you can use intimacy barriers and skin colored thongs and underwear,” the coach suggests. “Levi, I know you’ve done sex scenes totally nude in the past.”

That’s right..the independent film he was in a few years ago. There was a lot of controversy about the very explicit sex scene in that movie. So they were completely nude during that scene? Why do you feel jealous?

“Whatever Reader is comfortable with. I’ll follow her lead,” he says, matter-of-factly. 

The coach looks at you. “And you’re comfortable being nude with Levi?”

You’re trying so hard not to blush and look professional, as if this conversation isn’t giving you butterflies in your stomach. You feel Levi’s grey eyes on you. “Yes, it’s not a problem.”

Later that afternoon, your words were put to the test. You were to shoot a scene where your character catches Levi washing outside his cottage. It’s a short scene but you’re nervous. When you arrive on set, Levi is already in a robe waiting. 

The scene is set, and Levi takes off his robe. His body is even better in real life. He’s toned, and he has a perfect six pack with a deep v shape on either side. A black trail of hair leads down to his..

No, you shouldn’t look, it’s unprofessional. But you want to so badly.

“Reader, go to your mark,” the Director’s Assistant says.

“Y-yes, of course.” You take your place by the wall that surrounds his character’s cottage. When the director yells action you walk along the wall until you get to the entrance, but before you enter his garden, you see him washing at a basin near the home. You’re supposed to look for just a moment, then turn back against the wall and blush at seeing him. 

But when you peek around the corner, you can’t help but let your eyes linger for just longer than you’re supposed to. He’s washing himself, the water flowing over his beautifully toned body. His hair is wet and he pushes it back.

“Cut!” the director commands. “Reader, you were staring too long. Remember, she’s shocked at what she sees and quickly turns away, but she’s also titillated.”

You blush and look over to Levi, who you hope is far enough away that he can’t hear what the director is saying. “Got it. Sorry about that.” You take your mark and do it again.

The next day, you had to shoot some other scenes and didn’t see Levi all day. Although the day’s shoot went without a hitch, you couldn’t help but think about that perfect body of his and how you would soon be touching and kissing it. 

You arrived at your trailer earlier than usual the next day. There were a few cast and crew members ambling about, but it was otherwise quiet. You knock on the door of Levi’s trailer.

“Come in,” he answers. When you enter, Levi is casually sitting, drinking his tea and reading through today’s scenes. “I thought we could discuss how we wanted to block today’s physical scenes. It’s no nudity, but since it’s their first time,I think there are some particular movements they want us to include.” 

It’s strange, talking to Levi about, “me grabbing your breast,” or, “when I enter you for the first time,” as if these are the most normal conversations to have in the world. But even hearing him say these words in his deadpan way of speaking is making the blood rush to your cheeks. After a lengthy discussion, you scribble some notes in your script for later, then make your way to your trailer to get into costume.

The scene is set in a hunting cabin far from the main estate. As your character has just left a dinner party, you’re wearing a beautiful wine colored gown that everyone remarks on. Everyone except Levi. He sits in his chair and seems to be in some kind of ultra-focused state. You’d never noticed before, but maybe that’s how he gets into character.

Or maybe he’s nervous too.

Your heart is pounding when the director says action. “Please don’t go,” you say, as you grab Levi’s arm. 

You’d blocked out the scene with Levi this morning, but you suddenly have an urge to deviate slightly from the plan, not because you want to, but because you now feel like that’s what your character would do at this moment. 

You hold his hand and begin to kiss his palm and wrist, then you place it on your cheek. It’s so innocent, but full of yearning.  Levi’s body goes tense, but then he unexpectedly moves his thumb to your lips and you open your mouth. You begin to suck on his thumb, then his pointer finger, looking at him seductively when he finally pulls it out. He lets out a sigh and then he’s kissing you passionately; you pull down his suspenders while he lifts up the gossamer layers of your dress. Your mouths crash together as he undoes his pants. He tastes like spearmint, and you wonder if he did that on purpose. He moves away from the kiss and pulls off your underwear, and then he’s on top of you and between your legs. 

Although his bare ass is showing, the camera angle doesn’t necessitate him completely against your crotch. But he pushes slowly as if he is entering you for the first time and after a few thrusts, he starts getting faster. 

Your character is going through a lot of emotions at this point: desire, guilt, pleasure. You look away and your cheeks begin to flush as Levi continues to move, a certain kind of desperation in every thrust. You both begin to breathe heavily, your hands in his hair and his head in the crook of your neck. One final thrust, and there’s only silence, until..

“Cut!” the director cries out. “Good work, you two. Now, let’s do that again, with some closeup shots.

“You okay?” Levi asks as he gets off of you and grabs a rag to wipe off his sweat. 

You straighten your dress and a makeup assistant comes over to touch-up your makeup. “Yeah..I’m fine.”

“They way you approached me, with the kisses on the palm and taking my fingers - that was a nice change.” He looks at you as he returns to his mark. “You have good instincts.”

“Thanks.” You laugh to yourself, because the compliment makes you blush more than when he was rutting against you.

The cinematographer changes cameras and gets closer. “Alright, let’s do that again..”

——

The next day, you meet with the intimacy coordinator to choreograph the next sex scene scheduled for the end of the week. In the midst of taking notes and discussing with Levi the motivations for each movement, you become quiet, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. Because for the last few days, you’ve had trouble differentiating your feelings for Levi and your character’s feelings for his character. The line seems to be blurring between them, and that concerns you. 

In between scenes, you truly enjoy spending time with Levi. He’s smart and funny. He nerds out about tea and kung fu movies, and you’ve spent many an evening just listening to him go into more detail about the two than you ever thought possible. He gives you ideas when you struggle with character notes, and even helps you to memorize lines. At night, in the privacy of your hotel room, you’ve fantasized about what it might feel like to be desired by him, to hear him say your name as he touches your body.

Then you hear your name being called by the coordinator and you snap out of it. “Is that ok with you? Being completely nude for the scene?” she asks.

“No..no..I’d like for both of us to be covered,” you answer. It’s better this way, you think to yourself. It keeps it professional.

Levi shrugs. “Fine by me.”

You both walk back to the hotel at the end of the day, but Levi stops you before you enter the building.

“Hey, you ok today? You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine. I guess I’m just nervous about tomorrow.” 

“I get it. But we’ve put a lot of work into this. And I’d like to think we trust each other at this point.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

Just like that, you feel more at ease. He just has such a way with you. “You’re right, we’ve done well so far. And I do trust you, Levi.”

——

When you arrive at your trailer the next morning, there’s a to-go cup on your table. 

To calm your body and mind. —Levi

Your makeup artist smiles as you read the note. “Levi just brought that by. You sure have a great leading man.”

You smile. “Yeah, I sure do.”

The scene takes place in the forest in the afternoon. Your character has snuck away from her home to meet him, far away from spying eyes. The Director has decided to film the scene in sections instead of one long scene, at least for now. 

The marker board is clicked and you and Levi walk hand-in-hand among the trees. He pulls you into a small clearing, then grabs the back of your neck as he starts kissing you fully. You pull away and look him in the eyes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Your character is a lady of high society; it’s scandalous for someone of her stature to say such a thing, but here she is, with this man that is ‘below’ her, and she wants nothing else than for him to ravage her.

You can totally relate to your character, in that regard.

He moves closer to you and begins to fondle your breasts, then he grabs the front of your white cotton blouse and tears it off of you, revealing your bare chest. 

He lays his chore jacket on the ground. “Undo my trousers,” he commands, and you do so. You then lie down on the jacket beneath you while he pulls down his trousers and takes off his henley shirt. When he takes off his trousers, you look away.

“No - don’t look away. Look at me,” he says with authority. He crouches over you and easily pulls off your skirt. 

“Cut! Let’s get them ready for closeup shots.” The Director and his team set up for the next shots as you and Levi sit awkwardly on the ground. You can’t move too much because you don't want to spoil the continuity of the scene, so you freeze as your hair and makeup team tousle your hair and touch up your makeup.

Both of you have your groins covered but other than that, you are completely naked, except you’re still wearing your stockings and boots. The Director tells Levi to get on top of you and he does so.

“Ready to do this?” He whispers.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you answer.

“Scene 24, Take 1..”

*Clap*

Levi is immediately kissing your lips, then moving down to your neck and collarbone. He looks back up at you and begins to thrust, each one hard and deliberate. You begin to move your hips to meet his thrusts and he breathes heavily into the skin of your neck. Even without actually having sex, the friction enough is turning you on; that, and Levi’s kisses on your body.

Then you feel it. A hardening bulge rubbing up against your clit. You look into his eyes and see a brief flash of recognition, but neither of you break character. 

He pulls you up and your legs are wrapped around him. He continues to thrust into you but it’s slower now, your bodies working together as you grind. His hard cock is rubbing your clit just right, and you feel like you could come from just this feeling alone. You’ve forgotten about the hoards of people watching both of you right now and you’re completely in the moment, letting him pull you even closer to him. 

“Levi..” you whisper in his ear. It slips from your mouth before you know it; there aren’t any lines scripted for this scene, and you’re hoping it wasn’t loud enough for the boom mic to pick up. It earns a look from Levi and then he smirks - you’re not sure if that was in character either. 

Your hands grasp at his hair and he starts slowing down. You look up at the sky thinking about the pleasure you - and your character - just felt. Then your lips graze against each other as your breathing becomes more calm.

“And cut! Great work you two I loved how that flowed. Let’s take a 15 minute break. I’ll look through the footage and decide if we need to re-shoot anything.”

Just like that, the moment is gone. The Director and others begin to move equipment and Levi’s assistant brings him a robe. He has it on and around him before you can barely get off of him.

“Good work,” he says curtly as he walks off. Your assistant takes a little longer to get to you, so you’re sitting there, naked, trying to figure out just exactly what happened between the two of you.

Levi keeps his distance during the break and as he listens to the director’s notes. You have to re-shoot a few closeup shots, and although the energy is still there, something is different. You can feel it. 

——

Levi doesn’t come out with you and the crew for dinner that night, and he doesn’t reply to your text messages. You’re worried - did you do something to offend him? Was it because you moaned his name during the scene?

That has to be it. It probably made him feel awkward. Maybe he thinks you’re unprofessional. It makes your palms cold and clammy just thinking about disappointing him, you can’t bear it.

But you can’t deny that he was turned on during the scene. You felt him against you. You couldn’t have imagined that.

You walk back to your hotel room lethargically. You think about texting him again, this time apologizing for your behavior, but before you can, there’s a knock on your door.

“Levi?”

“Hey.” He shifts one leg to the other, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you open the door wider for him to enter, “come in.”

He enters, his body language clearly restless and troubled. “What’s up?” you question.

“About today’s shoot….I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m always professional. I respect you as an actress.”  

He paces the room and has a difficult time looking at you. You assume he’s going to reprimand you for your behavior today, so you prepare yourself. “I know you do, Levi. And I respect you.”

He finally stops in front of you. “But me getting turned on today…I don’t want you to think less of me. It’s just that you’re-“ he runs his hand through his dark hair. 

Butterflies begin to form in your stomach. You’ve never seen Levi this flummoxed before. He takes a deep breath and it seems to give him focus as he moves closer to you. 

“You’ve done something to me. When I had you in my arms today, I couldn’t help myself. Then when you said my name like that…”

He looks into your eyes. “I’ve kissed you countless times during this filming. But right now, I want to kiss you as myself.”

Your heart does backflips and your throat is suddenly dry. “So kiss me,” you invite, moving even closer to him.

It takes him a moment, almost as if he is checking if it’s truly ok. Then with a deep breath, he grabs the back of your neck and crashes his lips into yours. Even though you’ve kissed him many times, this time it’s different. There’s an electricity to it, an honesty, as if he’s laying bare his entire self to you. 

His hand moves from your hip bone to under your shirt, his soft touch sending shivers down your spine. It doesn’t take long for his other hand to make it under your shirt as well, and soon he’s pulling it over your head and off of you. 

You also start letting your hands roam, first down his back and then under his t-shirt. You grab the hem and pull it off of him, but before you can do more he’s working on unclasping your bra. 

“I want you so badly.” His voice is low and raspy as he lays you on the bed.

You’ve started peeling off your leggings but he takes them and pulls them off roughly, desperately. “There are condoms in the drawer of the bedside table.” He gives you a look. “You know..just in case.” He smiles, then reaches over to the drawer. As he does so, you pull off your underwear and start touching yourself. You rub your clit in circles, watching him as he stands over you.

There’s a giant bulge in his grey sweatpants and you can see the lust in his eyes. “God, you’re beautiful.” He throws the condom packet down and dives in between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to have you like this? To take this beautiful pussy as mine?” He starts licking at your folds and you swear you’ve entered heaven. He starts flicking his tongue over your clit, alternating between fast and slow. Your back arches and your hands reach down to grip his hair. 

“Yes, yes, right there….fuck…” You can’t believe this is happening. Levi is here, he wants you, and he’s eating your pussy in a way that no man ever has.

Just when you feel you could climax, he stops. He reaches down next to the bed and picks up the condom package, sticking it in his mouth as he takes off his sweatpants and underwear. 

You’d seen him naked on set, but his cock had been flaccid at the time; now that he’s hard, it’s even more impressive. As he puts on the condom, you lick your lips, preparing yourself to truly - finally - have him inside you.

He can see the desire in your eyes. “Look at you - so eager for my cock are you?”

“Yes, Levi, I want it so badly. I’ve always wanted you.” You open your legs a little wider, inviting him to go between them. 

He moves in and looks down on you as he touches his cock. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. I don’t know how I’ve kept myself in check for this long.” 

You smile. “So you’ve been thinking about me?”

“Of course I have. How could I not?” He positions himself above you and rubs his cock on your entrance, covering it with your juices. “When I’m not on set with you, you’re all I think about.”

Before this night, Levi had always had a quiet, awkward confidence to him, as if there were a multitude of thoughts happening just below the surface; but now, he was assertive and cocky, telling you his thoughts and desires without any restraint. You loved seeing this new side of him.

He enters you slowly and you both take a deep breath, then he begins to move faster as he sees a smile form across your face.

“You feel so good…fuck…” 

Your words encourage him to pick up the pace, the sounds of his hips slamming into you reverberate throughout the room. “Shit, you’re so wet, I can’t get enough of you.” He moves down to kiss you passionately, then he starts to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Be careful..I have to shoot a scene tomorrow,” you warn, halfheartedly.

“Makeup can cover it up,” he growls in your ear and then continues.

He feels so good, you can’t resist anything this man does to you, so you give into him completely as his cock rams into you and his mouth claims you.

The evening is a flurry of moans and grunts, him having his way with you on the bed, against the wall, in the shower - it was as if you were both discovering pleasure for the first time. Real pleasure - not performative. 

As the sun begins to rise, you both lay exhausted and satisfied in the bed, the sheets in a tangled mess around you.

“This won’t change how we work together, will it?” you ask with a worried look on your face.

“Why would it? If anything, it’ll make our chemistry on screen more believable.” He kisses the top of your head. “And this will make the preparation for the other sex scenes much more interesting,” he says with a boyish grin. 

You can’t argue with that. “I suppose life sometimes does imitate art.” 

Join my taglist!

I'm tagging those who seemed interested when I wrote the drabble, but let me know if you wanna be untagged.

@thevelria @lunaeheroine18 @meltingforthatackerman @adanfore @blondebebop @levisfavoriteacup @dont-f-with-moogles @itty-bitty-baby-face @ricecrispiebirb @whorenamedbee @rec-a-fic @leviismybby @littlerequiem @satorizz @lost-in-the-daylight @nube55 @kingkonoha @mrsackxrman @youre-ackermine @luvjiro @wanderlustqueen-writes @mrsackermannx (happy late birthday present, bby, this one-shot is for you <;3)

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Telepatía

✧.* Request- @cvmtitss

"Hey, my first time requesting you! I was wondering if you could do a joost w a fem reader where she's famous as well and she has a concert but doesn't think joost can make it due to him being busy or she thinks he has a tour and he comes back early without telling her. And so while she's performing the music, either suddenly changes or turns off and then she turns around and sees joost like proposing overall it js seems rlly cute and fluffy ❤️"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Musician! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff

✧.* Summary - Joost proposes to the love of his life while she is performing on stage in front of thousands of fans.

✧.* Extra- The reader's performance will be inspired by Kali Uchis' stage performance at Lollapalooza in Brazil (2023) because i'm obsessed with that fucking performance LMAO but if you guys don't like it, ofc change it up for your own imagination. Also highlighted parts are dutch.

✧.* Word Count - 1,442

It was one of the last tours that (Y/N) was doing and she decided to add the cherry on top in Brazil. She had everything ready to go. Her crew, her outfits, the stage, but she was missing one important thing. Her man. Joost was always there to support (Y/N) at her concerts. Whether it was on stage performing with her or watching her with heart eyes behind the scenes. This time, he was on his own tour in Europe, which was what (Y/N) thought.

It was a couple hours before the show was about to start and (Y/N) was starting to get ready while being on the phone with Joost. l “I’m really sad you aren’t here with me, my love,” she expressed.

She heard Joost softly chuckle on the other line. “I know, honey. I wish I was there with you. I love watching you sing and dance, but this is your last show and I finish mine next week. We’ll see each other soon, very soon, gorgeous.”

(Y/N) was content to hear that. She couldn’t wait to see her lover. “I know, im so excited to see you again. Anyways, I got to go. My stylist just arrived,” She blew him a kiss and ended the call with ‘I love you’ one of the few phrases she knows in dutch.

Mine while, in a small town in Brazil, Joost made a plan to get to where (Y/N) was performing and get on his knee to pop that one particular question he’s been waiting to ask her. He landed there a couple days before (Y/N) was set to perform. He presented his plan to his crew and they immediately were on board to help him. His social media crew helped give the allusion to the media that Joost was still in Europe. He had it all planned out carefully and it was all going smoothly. The only thing getting in his way was time. He had to wait a good couple of hours to sneak into her set.

Joost managed to get (Y/N)’s manager’s number and immediately called him. A couple rings pass by until he heard the sound of the other line getting picked up. “Hello?” he heard the voice of (Y/N)’s manager say.

“Hey, what’s up man, it’s Joost. Can I facetime you real quick?” Joost asked.

“Yeah man,” the manager said. They quickly switched to facetime to talk “face to face” (virtually).

“You will never guess where I am at,” Joost said in a jokingly manner. He turned the camera to a small flag of Brazil and giggled.

“Are you serious? That’s awesome, dude, welcome. Does (Y/N) know you’re here?” the manager asked. Joost turned his camera back on his face and shook his head, saying no.

“No, and we need to keep it that way because…” Joost picked up a small black box and opened it. It revealed beautiful gold ring with the most alluring diamond on top to show the camera.

The manager let out a happy laugh, “That’s fucking awesome, man. Are you going to ask her after her show?”

“No, I’m going to ask her during her show, on stage. And that’s why I called to ask you if you can sneak me on set and not tell her. I want this to be special to her,” Joost replied.

“100% we’ll let you on stage and hide you. (Y/N) is going to love every second of whatever you plan to do. Uh, yeah, alright i’ll alert everyone about the plan and let you know when she arrives at the stadium” the manager said. Joost gave him a quick thank you and goodbye before hanging up the call. He did a small fist pump and smiled. Now the only thing to do was wait.

Seconds gradually turned to minutes, at least that’s what Joost felt. The more he had to wait, the more he was desperate. It felt like the universe was doing that on purpose to test him. It was killing him. He couldn’t wait to see his lover. His beauty. His woman. His everything.

When the time finally hit, Joost practically dashed out his hotel room and jogged towards the elevator. Him and his crew he took got taxis and they were finally on their way to the stadium. The drive was filled with laughter, smiles, and conversations. Joost knew how to light up a room, so him preparing to do one of the best things ever made everything 10 times better. Even the driver was joining in on the good time.

Joost finally made it to the stadium. His heart realized what was about to happen and started beating faster. There was a lot of fans and reporters there that he had to ignore. Joost always loved to talk to his fans but, at that very moment he couldn’t blow his cover. He needed this to be a surprise.

The backstage crew immediately went into action when Joost stepped foot in the stadium backstage. They did everything in their power to hide Joost and distract (Y/N). Joost would watch his girl from a far and fall in love even more. Her beauty always made him fall to his knees.

It was finally time for (Y/N) to perform. She went on stage with her backup dancers and got into position. They covered (Y/N)’s frame with giant white feathers, like if she was an elegant swan. She was able to hear her adoring fans and got butterflies in her stomach. She heard her fans already cheering even though they couldn’t see anything on stage due to it being pitch black. She loved every moment of it all. It was finally time to wrap this all up.

She heard the introduction music and narrator speak. She turned to her back up dancers and smiled, “You guys ready?” she asked. They all nodded and asked if she was ready, not knowing that question had a double meaning. She said yes with a big smile on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the one and only, the elegant, the heart stealer. Everyone here, please welcome, (Y/N)!”

The dancers pulled back the feathers, revealing (Y/N) and everyone cheered. She was finally performing. Meanwhile, Joost was backstage watching the beautiful performance. He got the little box ready and was preparing himself. He watched as (Y/N) sang, danced, performed with her life. He always loved that about her, she always knew how to put up a performance.

Joost saw the fans go wild and it was just the very first song. They all sang along like it was karaoke and dances to the beats. He watched his favorite girl with heart eyes and before he knew it, the song was about to come to an end. It was finally time to do what he always wanted to do. He told the crew to signal the DJ to prepare to lower the music.

As (Y/N) was about to finish her song, the music lowered and cut off all together. She thought it was a mistake so she improvised and continued singing the song. She didn’t want to disappoint her fans. That was until she heard her fans scream even louder. She got confused and was wondering why everyone was going crazy until she saw some fans in the crowd point behind her.

(Y/N) turned around and saw her man, on one knee with a box containing a beautiful gold ring with a gorgeous diamond showing. (Y/N) couldn’t believe her eyes. She covered her mouth in shock and started tearing up. It took her a couple of seconds before she said yes. She watched as Joost put the ring on her finger with a huge smile on his face. Joost got up and hug her tight.

In that moment, it’s like everything and everyone disappeared. All that mattered was Joost and his lover. “I can’t believe you did all of that, and for me?!” she said to him.

“Of course I did it all for you, my love. You’re the only woman I love and you are my everything,” he replied. Joost gave (Y/N) a kiss on her lips and pulled away to look at her, “I'm going to stay on stage with you and watch because you look like a goddess when you’re performing.”

Joost took the microphone from (Y/N) and turned to the audience, “Brasil! Prepare for this woman to have a new last name! (Y/N) Klein!” The audience erupted in massive roar-like cheers. The soon-to-be newlyweds gave each other one last kiss before a new song played, signaling (Y/N) to continue the show.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Hey peoples i hope you liked this im so in love with this man </3 i like writing to muscian readers cuz then I can add what artist I wanna be like (ariana grande, kali uchis, lana del rey, etc etc)

[countessvalentines]

Best Bourbon I've Ever Tasted

pairing: cooper howard/f!reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: 18+ Only, Minors Do Not Read!! sexual tension, smut, alcohol, swearing, oral sex,

summary: you meet cooper howard at a networking mixer hosted by vault tec. Neither one of you enjoy the scene so you sneak away to make your own.

notes: you voted on the premise, now here it is! If y'all like it and want more, let me know! :)

dividers by @saradika

gif by @doortotomorrow

Despite not wanting to be at a corporate party, you have to admit the venue is impressive. This mansion has picturesque lighting, perfectly placed trees and shrubs, a pool that looks like an ancient Greek bath and an ornate firepit. You'd seen a few nice houses in L.A at this point, but nothing this lavish as this place in the Hollywood Hills. 

This is what they call a "networking mixer," really just an excuse for people in the industry to show off and feel important. As the new face of Abraxo cleaner, your agent insisted you go. Vault-Tec was hosting and they hadn't picked a cleaning agent partner company yet and Abraxo was hoping your winning smile and personality would win them over like you had America. 

You make your way around, smiling and nodding at various suits. You definitely aren't loosened up enough for the "networking" part, and would much rather not do it at all if you can avoid it. You find a relatively quiet spot by the pool to collect your thoughts, and to consume a bit of liquid courage. You see a nearby pop-up bar set up and order yourself a gin martini... You need something strong for this. As you wait for your drink, you look around the party, seeing if any familiar faces are in the crowd. There's a few representatives from Abraxo you've met a few times, some familiar Nuka Cola faces that are at what seems like every function in L.A., and some Vault-Tec suits that keep trying to sell people on their "Hollywood" vault. 

You hear the bartender call out a gin martini, and you turn to grab it. As you reach for your cocktail, your hand comes into contact with another... 

"Oh, I'm sorry." A familiar voice says as you brush hands with them. When you look up, your eyes widen as you realize who's hand you're touching. It's Cooper Howard. 

He quickly takes his hand away and offers you the drink. 

"Ordered the same thing." he explains the mishap. 

Cooper Fucking Howard ordered your drink. You didn't expect to see him at this event - of course you knew he'd been the spokesperson for Vault-Tec, but word on the street was that he was trying to distance himself since the divorce. Maybe representing the company that employs your soon-to-be-ex wife was too uncomfortable. Who could blame him? 

As you're silent and lost in thought, he looks up at you. "Well, uh, please. You take this one." He insists. As you take the drink from him, you find your words. 

 "Th-thank you." Graciously you nod and accept. 

Quickly, the bartender brings up another gin martini and places it on the countertop Cooper tips him for both of your drinks and with thanks, he holds up his glass to you.

"To coincidence." He says in a toast. 

"To coincidence." You reply as you clink glasses together.

"You're the new Abraxo girl, right?" He asks, walking from the crowded bar and lighting a cigarette. 

He offers one to you, and you accept, so he leans his lighter into the cigarette now between your lips. You're shocked he recognizes you, but you're flattered.

"Yeah, that's me." You put on your best commercial voice. "If you've got a clog that's full of muck, trust Abraxo to get it unstuck!" 

You both chuckle at the bit and Cooper holds his hand out for you. 

"Cooper Howard." He introduces himself to you as if everyone in this place doesn't know who he is. 

You nod in acknowledgement and take his hand, introducing yourself in the process. 

"If you don't mind me sayin" Cooper says while taking a drag of his cigarette and a sip of his martini. "You seem a bit too good for..." He gestures at everything around you. "...this." 

Inquisitively, you tilt your head and take your own sip of the cocktail you're holding. 

"How's that?" You ask curiously. 

"Well, you should be makin pictures, pretty face like that? Wasted on commercials if ya ask me." 

The comment takes you by surprise, did Cooper Howard just compliment you? Did he just call you pretty? In your stunned state, you remain silent as he looks at you apologetically. 

"Forgive me if I crossed a line..." He says while putting the cigarette in his mouth and his now free hand on his chest.

"No, no." You interrupt. "It's just that I... I didn't expect that. Thank you." Finally acknoweldging his compliment. 

He looks relieved and smirks sideways. He seems to appreciate your humility. 

"Whys that, now?" He asks, sipping the martini while maintaining eye contact with you. 

"Well, To be honest I've heard quite the opposite from casting directors." You explain, looking down, somewhat embarrassed at the explanation. 

"Wanna know a Hollywood secret?" He asks, leaning in and taking a step closer to you.

When you nod, he leans even closer to your ear and says in a low but audible voice, "Casting directors don't know shit." 

You can't help but get goosebumps from the baritone in his voice, and a giggle spills out of you. 

He smiles in response and continues... 

"I started as a stunt man, ya know." He says while finishing the last of his cigarette and putting it out on a nearby planter. 

"Director asked me to stand in for a second, read a couple lines." He polishes off the martini. "He liked how I read, next thing I know, I'm replacing the guy the casting director hired." 

That's something you didn't know and wonder how many other people do... then it dawns on you. 

"I bet half the people here are casting directors." You point out. 

"Well, if someone complains I hope they kick me out." Cooper teases. 

"Not having a good time, Mr. Howard?" 

You ask, half already knowing the answer.

"Please, call me Cooper." He requests in a pleading tone. "And, if I'm honest, this isn't exactly my idea of a good time." He confesses. 

That, you can understand. 

"My agent thought it would be good to 'keep up appearances'. Not many people are looking to hire an old cowboy anymore." He seems saddened, almost defeated and you can't help but feel for him. 

You've heard all the rumors, you know about his divorce and the lack of work. You've respected him as an actor and been a fan since as far back as you can remember. Seeing such a talented and seemingly genuinely kind man in this town is a rarity, especially among actors. It's such a damn shame. 

"Casting directors don't know shit, right?" You remind him of his own words while trying to catch his eyesight with your own again. 

He smiles sincerely at you, eyes bright and shining. "That's damn right." 

There's a pause between you, full of a tension you can't quite place. In the silence, you finish your drink and place it on a nearby server's tray. Once you turn your attention to Cooper again, he breaks the tension.

"Can I get you another drink?" He asks politely, pointing behind you to the bar. 

You're about to answer yes, when an idea comes to you. Neither one of you want to be here... maybe an appearance was enough to appease both your agents. 

"How about I get you a bourbon?" You suggest, a hint of mischievousness in your voice. 

Cooper cocks his head a bit, looking at the nearby bar. "They don't have good bourbon, I asked." 

"Ah, well, I guess we'll have to get bourbon somewhere else, won't we?" You ask playfully, the liquor in the martini taking effect and giving you a sudden confidence. 

"I spose you're right..." He trails off, trying to deduce your plan. 

"Follow me, try not to make it obvious." You say in a quiet voice as you lean close enough for him to hear. 

You begin to walk towards the back gate of the backyard that leads into the rest of the Hollywood Hills. You turn your head over your shoulder to see if he's following, and by some miracle, he is. 

You smile to yourself as you find a trail behind the mansion, leading up to the Hollywood sign... Perfect. 

Carefully you remove your heels and start walking up the trail, your stockings instantly dirty from the dusty walk. The two of you make light conversation on the fifteen minute hike, both of you more winded than you'd like to be. 

Once you get just underneath the middle of the Hollywood sign, you stop to catch your breath and announce,��

"We're here." 

Cooper looks around, arms outstretched. "Is there a bar in the side of the mountain I don't know about?" He jests. 

You exhale a laugh and lead him to a darkened corner of the trail. It's so dark you can't see a thing, but you know your way. Cooper takes out his lighter to illuminate the path a bit and he sees a small cave mouth.

"What is this?" He asks awe stricken. 

"I'll show you, cmon." You reply while gesturing for him to follow. 

Once inside, a small hot spring is revealed, a few small boulders and shrubs around and some green grass and moss the closer it gets to the water. It's like a small private oasis... 

As Cooper looks around in astonishment, you dig through a nearby bush and pull out a quarter empty bottle of bourbon. You slosh the bottle around to get his attention, and it works. 

"As promised" You say, offering him the bottle. "Sorry, no glasses here. Think you can share?" You ask with a smirk. 

"I guess I have to." He playfully remarks back. He takes an impressive swig and hisses as the alcohol goes down his throat. As it settles, Cooper hands the bottle back to you and you take an equally substantial sip. 

His curiosity gets the best of him and he has to ask, "Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No, actually." You explain while sitting on the edge of the hot spring and removing your soiled stockings.  "It's off limits during the day and it's damn near hidden at night. I found it getting lost one night, but that was when I first moved here years ago." You explain. "Far as I know, no one else has found it or used it. At least, my bourbons still here every time." You say shaking the bottle of bourbon and offering it back to him. 

He comes closer to you to accept the drink and you dip your feet and calves in the warm water. You let out a satisfied sigh as you can feel your muscles relax. The mixture of the strong liquor and the warm pool is sensationally soothing, and you feel your mind relaxed along with your body. 

Something about Cooper makes you feel like you've known him for longer than an hour, and you feel less intimidated by him than you thought you would. 

Cooper follows and sits next to you, taking off his black cowboy boots and placing his feet in the water, his pants getting slightly wet. 

"Ah, damn. That's nice after that hike." He says, taking another generous drink from the bottle. 

"I hope it was worth it." You say, placing your hands next to you and leaning back on them slightly. 

"Of course it is." Cooper replies. "Free bourbon, a natural jacuzzi and a beautiful woman for company? You bet it's worth it." He flashes that trademark winning smile in your direction and you can feel your heart beat a little faster. 

"You flatter me." You reply as you look away, cheeks turning pink. 

"I don't do that sweetheart. I ain't just blowin smoke." He says in his smokey voice as he puts a hand over yours on the earthy floor. 

It's then you know he definitely is hitting on you, and you can't help but give in. One of the world's most famous cowboys thinks you're beautiful and good company... What better compliment could there be? The tension you felt before feels more palpable than ever now. 

In your alcohol induced confident state, you lean towards him slowly, pursing your lips slightly and inviting him to close the distance between you. Cooper obliges and captures your lips with his, tentatively at first, but when you kiss hungrily back, he responds in earnest. 

He dips his head to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and inviting your tongue to dance with his. His hand reaches up to cup your face as he scoots closer to you, kissing passionately. As your tongues dance together, you move your hand to his chest and gradually scratch your nails down to his stomach. With less support, you instinctively lean back and Cooper takes this as an invitation...Not that it isn't. 

His body presses against yours, pushing you gently to the ground. As you move, you continue kissing, each kiss growing more and more desperate. Your hands move across his stomach, tugging at his shirt and yearning for more intimacy. 

With the wordless suggestion, he breaks the kiss to remove his shirt tossing it to the side before leaning down to kiss you again. You smile against his lips as he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck, moaning softly as he does. One of his hands roams to feel your hip, gradually sliding down your form fitting dress and feeling your thigh. You lick your lips in anticipation of his next move and you exhale a soft whimper.

Your lust has built significantly since his hand touched yours and you feel your arousal intensifying. He lifts your dress and slides his hands underneath it, caressing the soft skin of your inner thighs. His lips kiss up your neck to your jawline to your ear, before he asks in a husky whisper, "This okay, darlin?" 

Eagerly you nod before kissing him again, your tongue parting his lips needingly. Cooper presses his chest against you, lifting up your dress to your hips and slowly moving his body down yours. He starts kissing your inner thighs, before biting your underwear and pulling them down with his teeth. 

Your head rolls back, your hand reaching for his hair. You intertwine your fingers in his dark hair as he continues planting kisses further and further up your thigh. Your clit pulsates, anxiously awaiting any form of touch. You bite your lip as you feel his fingers part your slick, wet, folds and his lips lightly brush over your sensitive bud. He plants a kiss there before parting his lips and flicking his tongue over it. 

You gasp sensually in response and your hips roll up to meet him. His tongue moves faster and faster against your clit, before slowing down and pushing his tongue inside you. He repeats this pattern a few times before gradually licking up your opening to your clit teasingly. 

Your hips roll into him faster and faster as your arousal builds and builds. As he continues his delicious motions, your hand reaches down to grab the ground but finds his hand instead. He laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand tight, accepting your tightening grips as encouragement. His tongue starts rolling circles around your clit as he takes his free hand and inserts two fingers slowly inside you. He pumps them slowly, in and out, while his tongue continues licking your clit. 

You can feel yourself getting close to your sexual peak, and your grip on Coopers hand tightens. Your whimpers get loud enough to echo in the cave around you, interspersed with curses and moans. Your clit pulsates harder and you can feel your muscles contracting around his fingers. Sensing this, Cooper pulls back momentarily to look up at you...

"Good girl, come for me... that's it." His words are enough to send you over the edge and with a scream your cunt releases, your entire body spasming and your vaginal walls contracting over and over as you feel the wave of pleasure wash over you. 

Cooper continues to kiss your inner thigh, sliding his hands up your body and moving up with them. He brushes your hair out of your face before leaning down to kiss you sweetly. You taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his kiss. He breaks the kiss and moves his lips to your ear, smiling against your skin. 

"Best bourbon I've ever tasted."

[lowkeyrobin]

Trevor Spengler meeting a ghost his age that is stuck as a ghost because they doesn’t remember their surname or how they died or where they used to live? Like all the ‘important info’ from their memories is gone? Headcanons or one shot? Maybe he was called to “evict” them from a residence and took them home to try to help them?

oh em gee YESSS YESYESYES I love the gbfandom cause yall r so creative ; also this sounds very familiar to frozen empire LMAO ; dw melody kinda slayed ; phoebe is definitely gay idc ; reader knows how they died but not much else, but dw it's for the plot. it's alright let me go by summerdrive is literally the final part of this lol ; also this is super long compared to my other works. I think its good though lol

TREVOR SPENGLER ; lost soul

summary ; youre a lost ghost with no way around the new way of life you'd found yourself in, and trevor is intrigued by you, and decides to try and help you out

warnings ; language, talk about car crashes/death due to car accidents

disclaimers ; set post-frozen empire, me not knowing wtf mannhattan looks like. there's a hilly kind of area near lincoln park bc I said so

word count ; 2.4k

masterlist

The day progressed as usual for Trevor. Wake up, eat, chill out, wait for someone to call, go bust ghosts, come home, eat, sleep and then repeat it all again. Currently, stage five was in progress.

He sits behind Gary in the driver's seat, Phoebe at his side, and his mom in clear view in the front passenger seat. There was no speeding or heavy fight scene, just a calm drive out to a house just outside the main city.

Someone had called in a ghost, I mean, more like a haunting in Trevor's eyes. Nothing was being destroyed, but a very, very apparent ghost had spent the past week sobbing in the attic and banging on the walls.

As he lays eyes on them, he's mesmerized. Their aura is a light blue, contrasting the dark green, brown, and black hues surrounding the attic. They were like a match in the dark. He was attracted to them like a moth to a flame.

He stands on one side of the attic entrance, them on the other. He had to basically turn around to see them on the opposite side of the attic.

He awkwardly and shyly waves, seeing them look back at him, their face contorted to one of discomfort and shock. Tears drip down their cheeks and down onto their neck, scratches and bruises covering their opaque arms, legs and face. A light flickering movement trails down their arms and onto their shoulders and neck, resembling fire.

"Who are you?" They ask, a harsh tone in their voice. Their hands are balled into fists, hanging at their sides.

"Uh, my name's Trevor" He says, showing his empty hands for you, to get some sense that he wasn't here to hurt you. "I'm a Ghostbuster, we got a call that you've been banging walls and stuff..."

They look at him up and down, still thinking this Trevor guy wasn't very trustworthy.

"I just wanna help, okay? What does it take to get you somewhere safer and away from this house?" He asks.

They shrug, unable to hold eye contact. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know how I'm supposed to move on, I just wanna see my dad again"

Trevor's face quickly morphs into one of solem, feeling the same way as you right now. "I can try and help you move on" He suggests, "Do you know how you... died?"

"Car accident" You answer.

His eyes slightly widened for a moment before answering. "Would you like to come with me? So we can help you move on? We have a lab not to far away, we can try and help you find your way to continue on"

Phoebe, who'd been listening in from downstairs, having been holding the ladder before, speaks up. "We can help you break the fabric and space in time!"

They slightly jump back a bit, not having known that Trevor had guests.

"That's my sister!" He quickly explains, shooting a glare down the ladder towards her. "It's okay, we aren't here to hurt you."

They step forward a bit, the two separated by the hole in the attic floor. They peek down at Phoebe, who gives them a little wave and smile. They look back up at Trevor, who gives them a reassuring yet unsure look, silently urging them to come with him.

"Fine. But not to be experimented on. I just want to see my dad again, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's okay!"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Forty-four days that the lonely ghost had been staying at a lab where the somberly walked around, trying to remember anything other than their death. What were they meant to do?

They and Trevor had grown close, though.

He'd been working with them one-on-one nearly everyday, trying to figure out who they were, when they died, where they died. They'd grown accustomed to this talk, having it not make them grow sad or angry anymore. They became numb to it, they just wanted to move on.

Trevor made their time here worth it though. He understood them more than anyone else. They wouldn't even work with Lars or Lucky if he wasn't around. Lars would scold them and reinform that if they didn't cooperate that it would only take longer, but they didn't mind at this point. They'd like to stay and hang out with Trevor some more.

The same ripped jeans and sweatshirt they wore when they passed never grew any more deteriorated than it already was, strings and rips never mending themselves. They were still comfortable though, physically and mentally. That last day they spent with their father, they didn't know much about it, but their insides grew warm when they thought about or tried to remember it.

Hours and hours of work was rewarded with Trevor taking them out on a walk through the city and showing them the sights. They enjoyed it quite a lot, and didn't mind any stares or looks, just enjoying the time they were able to spend with the boy.

On one of these walks, Trevor brought up some good news. "I think we found your case, Y/n"

They look over at him, an eyebrow raised.

"We found the newspaper caption of the day after you died, it all matches up." He explains, pulling out his phone to show you a picture. "Car flips over gaurd rail near Lincoln Park, one dead, one in critical condition"

They nod, looking back up at Trevor. "I'm guessing I'm the one who died?"

He nods. "In the article it says your name, and your dad's" He hands the phone over to them, pointing the location as they zoom in.

"Y/n L/n" They whisper. "L/n"

He slows down the pace, seeing the look of pain in their eyes.

"What about my dad? Did he die too?"

He nervously shrugs, not having a definitive answer. They nod, handing the phone back.

"That's a great lead though, we can find out where he is. And maybe that can help us get you into the next realm, or whatever it is" Trevor speaks with reassurance. "I will get you there, I swear that on my life, okay?"

The two stand in front of each other on the empty sidewalk, surrounded by trees and cars passing by. He looks up at them, truth behind his dark eyes.

They chew at the inside of their cheek with a nod, wishing they could just hug him right now.

"Can we go visit where...." They speak softly, trying to ask a bit of a heavy question. That question should've been heavy for them, not him of all people.

He nods with a little smile, planning to go after they went out to eat, or, he did. Ghosts of their kind thankfully didn't need food, just being floating spirits trying to find their escape.

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The dusk had turned to night, the sun having set not long ago, the streets lit up by lights and the moon. The walk towards the crash site was silent while Y/n looked over the newspaper pictures a few times.

2021. That wasn't that long ago, yet it seemed like an eternity.

They approach the dented gaurd rail, right where the car must've flipped. Trevor hangs back, putting his phone back in his pocket after they gave it back. They look down the hill, seeing scraps of metal and tire rubber still laying at the bottom.

Their heart sank as they saw it.

Pieces of the scrap were clearly melted or burned, same with a few trees around the area, the bark charred black from whatever fire must've occurred. That had to have explained the fire on their arms, though they never remembered a fire. They must've died on impact.

Trev stands a few feet away, keeping quiet as he sees them just stare into nothing. Maybe they were recollecting memories or maybe their death or anything else in their life was coming back to them. He didn't want to disturb.

They look at the gaurd rail, sunken down to the ground. Some blood splatters still painted the backside, a little pool of blood staining the concrete.

They, with a smooth pace, walk back to Trevor, holding back tears.

"I want to find my dad. I want to know if he lived or not" They speak, pointing down at the blood. "Please, Trevor. I can't wait around any longer."

He nods. He nearly opens his arms for a hug but stops himself, remembering that he couldn't make physical contact with him.

"I'll come down to the lab tomorrow morning and we'll get to work, okay?"

"Okay"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The sounds of clicks and keyboard taps echo through the lab. Trevor sits in front of the computer, typing all sorts of variations of their father's name and the city, date, etc into the Google search bar. Y/n stands behind him, watching with caution.

Thank God for True People Search.

F/n L/n, Age 55 - Lives in Manhattan, NY (917)-123-4567.

"Holy shit" The two whisper in unison. They both lightly smile, quickly getting back to the mission at hand.

Trevor clicks on the website, instantly greeted by a picture of Y/n's father. Underneath was his full name, age, date of birth, phone number, and city and state of current residence. Below was more info, like his current address, past and current phone numbers, email addresses, possible relatives, etcetera.

The second person below the possible relatives was a familiar name and age. Y/n L/n, age 17.

"Holy shit, that's you" Trevor states, moving the mouse towards the name. "He's- He's not dead"

They're silent now, staring down at the computer screen.

"What the fuck? I spent all these years thinking he was dead!" They say, slowly backing away from the computer and Trevor, hands on their head as they try and not freak out. "What the hell?"

Trevor quickly stands up, proposing an idea. "What if we call him, and get him to come here and see you?"

They're quiet for a moment.

"I'm scared"

"I'll be right here"

Silence.

"I think this is what will make you be able to move on, Y/n"

They're quiet again, then they nod slowly, taking a little deep breath.

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Y/n sits in the chair Trevor was sitting in before, leg bouncing like crazy due to nerves. The curly haired boy, who thankfully grew out his hair some, was speaking words of reassurance to them. It was already four in the afternoon, the days passing on and blending into each other for poor Y/n.

They couldn't even remember how many days ago it was that The Possessor scared the shit out of them with a chair.

Finally, there's a knock on the door, which Trevoe quickly walks over to answer. They felt like they were going to vomit, if they even could.

"Y/n?"

They quickly look up, hearing the familiar voice calling their name. They'd never felt or heard something so familiar that it instantly warmed up their heart.

Their father stands in the doorway, Trevor in front of him as he walks toward them.

The man walks with a limp, carrying his 200 pound body down the hallway. A bushy beard covered the bottom half of his face, grey hairs peaking out between it. He wore a baseball cap, hiding whatever grey hairs he had up there as well.

Y/n quickly stands up, laying eyes on their father after all this time. They felt their whole core begin to burn as they saw him again.

"Dad?"

He smiles, opening his arms. "Y/n"

They quickly run to him, then almost through him, forgetting they were a ghost. They wrap their arms around him, knowing the couldn't make physical contact. He does the same, arms stiffly heald around each other.

"I missed you so much" They cry, looking up at him. "I thought you died"

The two pull their arms away from each other. Trevor watches a few feet away with a smile.

The older man smiles somberly, "I almost did, Y/n/n"

"Are you okay?" They quickly ask, looking at him up and down.

He sighs and shrugs, "I don't think there's been a day where I've been okay without you"

The burning only became worse, nearly hurting them. They didn't know if it was good or bad but you wanted to enjoy this.

"I love you, Dad"

"I love you too. I'm sorry I failed you" He speaks, tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for everything"

"It's okay" They lightly smile with a chuckle, the action performed by their surprise, shock and happiness of the situation. "I'm okay. Trevor has been helping me try to find you"

He looks back at Trevor who gives him a warm smile and nod, then back to them. They were beginning the process to fade away. Tiny, microscopic pieces of them began drifting away like leaves against the wind. They look down at themselves, feeling the fading and numbing sensation.

Their father nods, seeing the look of 'I need to speak to Trevor' and 'I love you' mixed in their eyes.

They quickly walk over to Trevor, wrapping their arms around him, still stiffly holding them over his shoulders.

"Thank you, so much. I can't thank you enough, Trev"

He smiles, wrapping his arms around them. "Thank you for trusting me, Y/n/n"

They can feel their body trembling, feeling themselves fade into nothing. They hear and feel Trevor crying a bit, trying to hide it.

"Hey, it's alright, I'll be okay" They chuckle, seeing the boy wipe his tears away as they're no longer halfway-hugging.

"I know" He nods, "Have fun moving on"

They lightly smile, and look back at their father. They hold onto whatever memories they had with both him and Trevor, waving goodbye to both of them as they fade into the oxygen around them.

Y/n's father wipes his tears, looking at Trevor now that they're completely gone, for good this time.

"Thank you for bringing me back to my child. Even if it was only for a moment. I can't find the words to express how much I thank you for that"

Trevor nods, "It's okay. Thank you for bringing such a kind soul into the world, Mr. L/n"

"You can call me F/n, son"