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mclennonlgbt · 7 months ago

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Paris in John and Paul’s life

30th September 1961:

“John and I went on a trip for his twenty-first birthday. John was from a very middle-class family, which really impressed me because everyone else was from working-class families. To us John was upper class. His relatives were teachers, dentists, even someone up in Edinburgh in the BBC. It’s ironic, he was always very ‘fuck you!’ and he wrote the song ‘Working Class Hero’ – in fact, he wasn’t at all working class. Anyway, one of John’s relatives gave him £100 for his birthday. A hundred smackers in your hand! That was a real windfall. None of us could believe it. To this day if you gave me £100 I would be impressed. And I was his mate, enough said? ‘Let’s go on holiday.’ – ‘You mean me too? With the hundred quid? Great! I’m part of this windfall.’” - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“We planned to hitchhike to Spain. I had done a spot of hitchhiking with George and we knew you had to have a gimmick; we had been turned down so often and we’d seen that guys that had a gimmick (like a Union Jack round them) had always got the lifts. So I said to John, ‘Let’s get a couple of bowler hats.’ It was showbiz creeping in. We still had our leather jackets and drainpipes – we were too proud of them not to wear them, in case we met a girl; and if we did meet a girl, off would come the bowlers. But for lifts we would put the bowlers on. Two guys in bowler hats – a lorry would stop! Sense of Humour. This, and the train, is how we got to Paris." - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“And Paul and I also did the same thing, once. We just cancelled. We’d made it, in Liverpool. We were making good money, for those days. I can’t remember what it was – maybe a couple of hundred dollars a week – but enough that you’d have a little extra. You’d have it in your back pocket. And Paul and I just— A relative of mine gave me a hundred pounds, for my birthday, which I’d never seen that much money in me life. Paul and I just canceled all the engagements, and left for Paris… And George was furious, because he needed the money – to work, you know. But that was another time when the group was in debate as whether it would exist or not.” - John Lennon, 1976, an interview with Elliot Mintz

“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together – in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart Sutcliffe, Anthology

"They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from the Beatles and going off to Spain. En route, they’d stop a day or two in Paris, to size up the Brigittes, check out the kind of clothes Jurgen Vollmer wore, and perhaps see Jurgen himself, if he was around. [Johnny] Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday 30 September. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station with them and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent, and so close.” - Mark Lewisohn, All These Years: Volume One

“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, ‘God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris – John was funding it all with his hundred quid.

We would walk miles from our hotel; you do in Paris. We’d go to a place near the Avenue des Anglais and we’d sit in the bars, looking good. I still have some classic photos from there. Linda loves one where I am sitting in a gendarme’s mac as a cape and John has got his glasses on askew and his trousers down revealing a bit of Y-front. The photographs are so beautiful, we’re really hamming it up. We’re looking at the camera like, ‘Hey, we are artsy guys, in a café: this is us in Paris,’ and we felt like that.

We went up to Montmartre because of all the artists, and the Folies Bergères, and we saw guys walking around in short leather jackets and very wide pantaloons. Talk about fashion! This was going to kill them when we got back. This was totally happening. They were tight to the knee and then they flared out; they must have been about fifty inches around the bottom and our drainpipe trousers were something like fifteen or sixteen inches. We saw these trousers and said, ‘Excusez-moi, Monsieur, où did you get them?’ It was a cheap little rack down the street so we bought a pair each, went back to the hotel, put them on, went out on the street – and we couldn’t handle it: ‘Do your feet feel like they are flapping? Feel more comfortable in me drainies, don’t you?’ So it was back to the hotel at a run, needle and cotton out and we took them in to a nice sixteen with which we were quite happy. And then we met Jürgen Vollmer on the street. He was still taking pictures." - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“Jürgen had a flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front, which we rather took to. We went over to his place and there and then he cut – hacked would be a better word – our hair into the same style.” - John Lennon, 1963

Interviewer: I heard you took a trip to Spain before once, didn’t you? On Holiday? Paul: I didn’t go to Spain, no. I tried once to make Spain but… and John and I were gonna hitchhike. We hitchhiked down from Liverpool… We didn’t hitchhike. No, we got the train down from Liverpool ‘cause we thought we won’t hitchhike down the first bit. And we got the boat over to Paris. Then we got the train into Paris ‘cause we thought: “Well, it’ll be too hard to get a hitch here”. And we just stayed in Paris all week. And eventually… I mean, all the time trying to get out of Paris and make Spain! We never made it, we just flew home at the end. What a lazy hitchhiking Holiday!

“The thing was all the kissing and holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic just to be there and see them even though I was 21 and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing. And they weren’t not mauling at each other, they were just kissing.” - John Lennon

"John’s 21st birthday was a month away, and he knew he was getting money — 100 pounds cash, more than he or Paul had ever seen in their lives. (…) Bob Wooler was party to their planning, and fought with them:

They were bored, and decided they would go away for a month. I thought this was disastrous because they would be away from the scene too long and lose their fans, Fans were very capricious: they moved from one group to another. And anyway, what about the other two members, George Harrison and Pete Best?. What about them, what do they do? We argued a lot about this — we argued in the back room of the grapes pub to a large extent —- and they said ‘Well, we’ll go away for a fortnight only’

(…) Equally, the promoters who paid the Beatles over-the-odds to present them every week had to “lump it” (….). To a man, and woman, they were incensed by it - but John and Paul hadn’t a care. They didn’t mean to be rude about it but basically it was tough shit.

it was tough too on Dot and Cyn, Dot simply had to accept the situation, but Cyn had a greater case of grievance. John was heading off without her when he could so easily gave waited for the art school holidays. (…).

That John was taking Paul, no one else, accentuates the renewed closeness since Stu quit The Beatles. They were the Beatles force, an unstoppable and authentically powerful pair. “Lennon had the attitude”, Wooler said, “and taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were superior human beings”

"You’d always see them together, in the pub or walking along the street", says Johnny Gustafson of the Big Tree. "They were a duo, and seemed each other’s equal". Bernie Boyle, the young lad hanging around with them at every opportunity, says, "They were like brothers, with John as the elder and Paul’s mentor. They were so tight it was like there was a telepathy between them: on stage, they’d look at each other and know instinctively what the other was thinking"

They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from The Beatles and gofin off to Spain.

Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday, September 30. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent and so close. - Mark Lewisohn, Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years (2013)

As was written in this post: That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.

Unconfirmed quote (may or may not be true):

"He must have been fond of me to spend that money. He let me have all the banana milkshakes I wanted.” - Paul McCartney

In January 1964, only a few scant weeks before the Beatles took America by storm, the band mates settled in for an extended stay in Paris. For the group, the Parisian visit proved to be a magical experience, with the Beatles playing 18 shows at the Olympia Theatre between Jan. 16 and Feb. 4 (source).

The Beatles were staying at the George V Hotel at the time. John and Paul composed "Can't Buy Me Love", "I Should Have Known Better" and "If I Fell" on the piano.

The photo Paul took of John (in the "Eyes Of The Storm" book):

1966: Paul, his girlfriend Maggie McGivern, John and Brian Epstein spend 5 days in Paris. "All of them flew into France separately — Lennon had been filming abroad and Epstein had been away on business. Maggie and Paul, she says, traveled apart ‘as part of keeping the relationship secret’. During the five-day trip the foursome stayed at the same Paris hotel where she and Paul shared a luxury suite. ‘It was a marvelous holiday,’ she says. ‘. . . just walking around the streets of Paris.‘My abiding memory is of me, John and Paul lying under the Eiffel Tower, gazing up at it. We couldn’t go up because we would have been recognised, and we were masters at the art of avoiding people." [x]

1969:

Hoping to get married in France, John Lennon and Yoko Ono flew to Paris on this day [16th March].

The couple had decided to marry on 14 March 1969, two days after the wedding of Paul McCartney to Linda Eastman; whether it was in response to this event on some level is open to conjecture.

On McCartney’s wedding day Lennon and Ono were travelling to Poole in Dorset, where he introduced her to his Aunt Mimi. During the journey he asked his chauffeur Les Anthony to go to Southampton to enquire about the possibility of the wedding being held at sea, on the cross-channel ferry to France.

(source)

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible” - Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life (2008)

"We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required." - John Lennon

1974:

“After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.””

— May Pang, Loving John (1983)

1978:

Wings album "London Town" is released. It includes the song "Cafe on the Left Bank", the lyrics of which clearly refer to John and Paul's trip to Paris.

Late 1970s (maybe 1978?): John is singing to Paul about Paris in a home recording. Longer version

1970s: John writes "Skywriting by Word of Mouth", a book that would be released in 1986. One story is about sex he had with a woman in Paris. Here it is. As anon noticed here: "...the woman is called Amie L'Nitrate and Amyl Nitrate is a reference to poppers. He talks about grabbing her 'pomme de frites.' Her potatoes? He uses the term 'tread lightly on some loafers' which is an old euphenism for being gay. Amie says they should have sex to God Only Knows. Then John says their relationship ended in a seething rage but he still thinks of 'her.'" @sgtsaltsband concluded in the same post: "so he writes a story about PARIS ( where he and paul went on a trip for his 21st bday and never stopped talking about it ) , in the HOTEL where the Beatles stayed later on [Hotel V in 1964] , names the girl after POPPERS ( a drug commonly used by gay men during sex ) , the girl wants to have sex to PAULS fave song and he uses this PHRASE." Also: this is an excerpt of the story:

"Boogie" is a slang word for sex or dance (also, "Born to Boogie" is a 1972 movie starring Marc Bolan, Elton John and Ringo Starr). "Band on the Run" is a Paul McCartney and Wings' album which John loved. "Sue you sue me" can be a reference to to the Beatles' legal and business disputes and the fact that Paul sued John, George and Ringo in December 1970, and to "Sue Me, Sue You Blues", a song by George.

(thank you @menlove for uploading the story and pointing out interesting words!)

1994 - Paul inducting John to Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:

“And then on your 21st birthday you got £100 off one of your rich relatives up in Edinburgh, so we decided we’d go to Spain. So we hitch-hiked out of Liverpool. And we got as far as Paris, and decided to stop there for a week. And eventually got our haircut, by a fellow named Jürgen, and that ended up being the ‘Beatle haircut’.”

I also remember watching an interview with Paul about his album "Memory Almost Full" (2007). Thank you for adding, @ringompreg!

youtube

(it's like 7 minutes in) Interviewer: There is a very beautiful song called "The End Of The End", the way you talk about your whole ending, and the lyric goes: "It's a start of a journey to a much better place." You mean, better than England? Paul: It's basically a start of a journey to France. Or Spain through France. Yeah, that's what it is. It's a much better place, Paris.

Also worth mentoning:

"All You Need Is Love" begins with La Marseillaise.

"Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" contains French-language speech by BBC broadcaster Pierre Le Sève.

Bonus

#mclennon #mclennon is real #mclennon anthology #paris #frankly i miss paris #may pang #yoko ono #linda eastman #the beatles #gay #bisexual #france #insane #compilation #master post #Youtube

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 9 months ago

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I Believe You, But Tell Me Again

(x)

Summary: Y/N is wondering if Jensen still sees her as he used to.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of fluffy smut. Sexy af Jensen. Rockstar!Jensen. Definitely a warning. Unprotected PinV sex. Oral (f receiving), Brief fingering, some slightly insecure thoughts, established relationship. Fluff.

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3,314

A/N: This fic is a request by @lacilou .

I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I can't get this out of my head. Jensen, in the photo you're using for Off and On Again. Where he's super hot, and he knows it. Kinda cocky but totally in love with the reader (established relationship - married, long-time girlfriend??) And reader doesn't understand why he's so into her, but she KNOWS it even though Jensen has to remind her with "Feel this? It's all for you, "while he's holding the reader's hand over his bulge. If you could throw in "this what you want?" while he's slowly stroking himself as he walks towards the reader, lust in his eyes.

I hope you enjoy it sweetie, and everyone else too.

The dividers below were created by @talesmaniac89

The lights were bright, slightly blinding, as Y/N sat in front of the two cameras aimed at her. There were two cameras so they could decide later on which side was her better side. Or possibly her worse side, depending on the tone of the interview.

Y/N squinted at the primped and stylish woman sitting across from her getting her makeup touched up. She wondered, would this interview be a friendly one? An interview to say, “Look everyone! Aren’t the Ackles great?” Or would it be one of those interviews that had an edge of nasty hovering just beneath the smile of the interviewer.

She watched this interviewer, Shauna, pull away from her makeup artist, scowling. “It’s fine, Lisa. Just leave it alone.”

Uh oh.

The interview started off friendly enough, touching on the things most journalists talked to her about - Jensen’s incredible skyrocketing success, his status as a rockstar icon, what a talent he was. As Jensen’s biggest fan, Y/N always enjoyed those kinds of questions. She couldn’t get enough of bragging about her ridiculously talented husband.

But then the mood of the interview shifted and Shauna started asking much more pointed questions.

“Now, Y/N, you and Jensen have been married over a decade now, right?” Y/N nodded. “Is there a secret to your success?” Shauna was smiling, but Y/N could see that her gray eyes were calculating.

It was a question she’d been asked a lot in the last couple of years as their ten year anniversary came and went. People seemed very interested in the fact that their marriage had lasted so much longer than had been anticipated. When Jensen had started dating her, just a nobody from nowhere, everyone had predicted it wouldn’t last.

People on social media and angry people with podcasts all had an opinion on their relationship.

-- She’s not cut out for the limelight.

-- It’s way too hard for someone like her.

-- She’s not used to the media. She’s gonna break under the pressure.

-- He’s a rockstar who could literally get any girl he wanted. So, what’s up with him picking her?

-- It won’t last. These showbiz marriages never do.

But ten years on, now people were wondering how they actually made it to a decade. “What’s the secret?” They all wanted to know.

“There’s really no secret, Shauna.” Y/N said with a smile. “When two people are madly in love with each other, when they respect each other and work together as partners, staying together becomes much easier.”

It was a variation on the same answer she’d given dozens of times. It happened to be true, but Y/N was still tired of trying to find new ways to explain to people that they got married because they loved each other, and they stayed married because the alternative was unthinkable for either of them.

Shauna smiled a sharp smile. “And in all those years, you’ve never been worried about the rock and roll lifestyle…leading Jensen astray?”

Y/N kept smiling because she couldn’t falter and let the reporter know she’d scored a hit. They weren’t usually that pointed with the infidelity question. Usually they skirted around it, saying things like, “Does it ever get hard when he’s on the road?” or “You must miss him when he’s touring. How do you keep tabs on him?”

Y/N’s personal favorite version of this question came from a middle-aged woman reporter with lipstick on her teeth. “Have you ever just shown up to surprise him, or tried to catch him being naughty?” It was said with a cheeky grin as though they were just besties chatting, but Y/N had wanted to snatch the woman bald.

Shauna’s version of the question was the closest anyone had ever come to asking her outright, “Do you worry about your husband cheating on you?”

Y/N kept smiling and shook her head. “No, never. If you knew Jensen, you wouldn’t wonder about it either. He’s the most loyal man I’ve ever known, and the most honorable. I know beyond a doubt that he doesn’t take our vows lightly, and that he would never, ever hurt me like that.”

Shauna seemed slightly taken aback by Y/N’s adamant, genuine answer, clearly expecting some anger or some kind of dramatic reaction from her. When she didn't get it, the reporter just smiled again.

“So sweet.” Was her response, acid dripping from her words.

***

The day of interviews had taken quite a bit out of Y/N, especially the last one, and she was tired as she wandered out to the limousine that was waiting to take her and Jensen back to their hotel, whenever he was done with his part of the press junket.

The limo driver opened the door for her and smiled. “Fatima says Mr. Ackles is almost finished and will be out in about ten minutes. Do you want to wait for him? Or should I take you and send another car for him?”

Y/N smiled back and shook her head. “No, let’s wait for him.”

“Okay, great.” The driver said as he closed the door behind her.

In less than ten minutes, she saw Jensen push out of the double doors, and amble towards the car. He wore black jeans that clung to his thick thighs, and a gray t-shirt covered by a black, long-sleeved denim shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the veins and corded muscles in his forearms - muscles he’d gained by long hours spent playing the guitar.

As he got closer to the car, she watched him push a hand through his long hair, sweeping it off his forehead, and she sighed deeply. Good God, he was so stunningly sexy.

Even when he was just walking, he moved with the same seductive grace he used like a siren song onstage. No matter how many times Y/N watched him in concert, she never got used to that kind of magnetic, cocky seductiveness that poured out of him when he was singing. He knew he drove people crazy. He knew it, and it just made him smile.

He was smiling now as he climbed into the car. “Hey beautiful.”

Y/N smiled tiredly at him, feeling her heart warm at his usual greeting. When he settled into the seat, he reached over and pulled her into his lap.

She squealed lightly as he lifted her, and then chuckled. “You know there are seatbelts we’re supposed to be wearing.”

Jensen shrugged and squeezed her tighter against him. “Nah! I gotcha.”

Y/N laughed again. “Oh, okay then.” She said, snuggling closer to him. The interview had knocked her off kilter a bit, and it felt especially good to have Jensen’s arms wrapped around her.

She tucked her head under his chin, and he ran his big hand up and down her arm. “Hey,” he said with concern lacing his voice, “everything okay?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a long day sitting in the same room, being asked basically the same questions.” She shrugged. “I just wanna get home. Or, well, hotel.”

Jensen accepted her answer, kissing her forehead and then her lips. “Me too.”

They ordered in their dinner, neither of them keen to face more crowds and questions, and spent the evening watching some trashy reality TV before calling it a night a bit earlier than usual.

Y/N went into the bathroom to get ready. She brushed her teeth and took off her makeup, and as she stood in front of the mirror she looked at her face closely.

There were some lines there that hadn’t been there when she first met Jensen. She knew there was a gray hair or two hiding amongst the rest that also hadn't existed back then.

She pulled her silk nightgown tight against her body and could see where she was rounder than she had been when she was younger. Her muscle tone wasn’t as good.

I should hit the gym more, she thought.

She pinched one of her love handles and pulled at her skin, wondering what Jensen really thought about all these changes. She knew he loved her, knew that he’d always found her attractive. But how was that holding up these days? Did he still feel the same kind of heat for her? Did he still want her as desperately as she still wanted him?

She jumped slightly as Jensen popped up in the mirror behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, and nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. He wore his pajama bottoms and nothing more. She looked at his biceps flexing around her as he squeezed her back against him, and his round, muscled shoulders, broad and strong, and she sighed. He was still so unbelievably perfect.

She lightly tapped his forearm where it rested just below her breasts. “You scared me.” She said, her voice accusatory.

He chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.” He caught her eye in the mirror. “But you seemed to be lost in thought.”

He moved his lips to her temple. “What thoughts are swirling around in that beautiful mind of yours? Hmm?” He murmured.

She shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.”

Jensen’s face in the mirror wore a disbelieving look. “Don’t believe that for a second.” He pulled back slightly, and turned her in his arms so she was facing him. A small line of worry was creased between his brows.

“You’ve been quiet all evening; something is obviously on your mind.”

Y/N shrugged again and looked down at their bare feet. “Just tired.”

Jensen put his knuckle under her chin and made her look at him. “Y/N. Tell me.”

Y/N was caught completely by surprise as her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t know where these doubts were coming from or why she was feeling this way. Maybe it was just one too many snide questions.

Jensen’s face crumpled as he saw her tears. He cupped her cheeks and brushed them away as they spilled over her lashes. “Baby.” His voice was worried and confused. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, nothing happened. Really. It was just this reporter.”

Jensen waited for her to continue, but his worried expression darkened slightly in anger.

Y/N bit her lip and debated what to tell him, how to explain the feelings she barely understood herself. Finally she just went for the honesty they’d always had with each other; they’d never been afraid to ask for what they needed from one another, and what she needed was reassurance.

“Do you still want me? I mean, the same as you used to.”

Jensen seemed completely taken aback by the question. Clearly that hadn’t been where he expected this conversation to go. He shook his head.

“Why would you even ask that? Of course I do.”

Y/N frowned. “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. Please, tell me the truth. Are there things about me you’d change if you could?”

Jensen’s expression turned thunderous and he dropped his hands from her cheeks to grip her upper arms. “Y/N.” He said firmly. “What the hell are you talking about? Where is this coming from? Of course I don’t want you to change.”

“I don’t mean my personality, or whatever.” Y/N explained wiping her tears away with both hands. “But my face or my body, the way I look. I know it isn’t the same as when we first met.”

Jensen shook his head, his voice incredulous. “Well no, you don’t look exactly the same as the day I met you over a decade ago.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “But you know, I’m pretty sure I don’t either.”

Y/N felt her skin flush. “But you’ve just gotten hotter.” She frowned. “Guys do that.”

She opened her mouth to say something more, but Jensen slammed his mouth down on hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and invading her completely. She let out a little whimper as his hands let go of her arms to grab her ass and press her hard against him. He kissed her long, deep, swallowing every soft moan.

When he pulled back his voice was husky with want. “Baby, I don’t know where these questions are coming from, but I know the answers.”

He grabbed Y/N’s hand and placed it on his hard cock where it tented his pajama bottoms, obviously not restrained by underwear. She bit her lip as he closed his eyes and groaned when she wrapped her fingers around him.

“Feel this? It’s all for you, all because of you. Fuck, Y/N do you see what you do to me? Still? Always?” He pushed aside some of the bottles and jars that littered the countertop and lifted her onto it easily. His hand slipped between her legs and he groaned at her bare, wet pussy. “Believe me when I tell you that I want you. Every day. All the time. Years don’t change that.”

He shook his head. “In fact they just make things better cause now I know what happens if I do this.”

He dipped his head, sucking her satin clad nipple into his mouth, while his thick middle finger slid inside her body at the same time. A strangled cry left her lips and she thumped her head back against the mirror.

She felt him smile against her. “Exactly.”

He took his hand out of her to tug on her nightgown. She shifted slightly so he could pull the silky material over her head as he continued. “And yet, your body’s always a revelation to me. It never stops fascinating me.” His eyes followed the path of his fingers as he trailed them down her arms and then over the soft swell of her breasts. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin and her nipples puckered.

He circled his forefinger around the tight little bud, before dipping his head once again to flick the tip of his tongue against it.

Y/N moaned deeply and wrapped her fingers up in his honey brown locks. “Jensen.” She gasped as he sucked her breast into his mouth and drew on it deeply, causing her cunt to clench and quiver.

He pulled her forward, to the edge of the counter, and then dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her wide open so he could reach his tongue up to tease her hole. Y/N plunged her hand back into his hair and tugged on it before pushing his head harder against her dripping pussy.

“God, fuck Jensen, yes.” She rambled.

He hummed against her folds before nibbling at her clit, making her knees try to lock around his ears. But his superior strength kept her legs spread wide so he could feast. He breathed hot against her, alternating between flicking his tongue against her clit and sucking it between his plump, luscious lips.

It wasn’t long before Y/N was bucking against his mouth as she rode out her climax while he lapped up her juices. She panted desperately and tugged on his hair again, begging him. “Please Jensen, fuck me. I need to feel you, need you inside me so badly.”

Jensen stood and scooped her off the counter, walking back into their bedroom. He laid her out on the bed, making sure her head was propped up on the pillows, before stepping away from her. He moved far enough back so that she had an unencumbered view as he slowly lowered his pajama bottoms.

His cock sprang free to lean, hard and dripping, against his stomach. Y/N felt her mouth go dry and a keening moan erupted from her throat as he gripped himself in his fist, pumping slowly.

He walked towards her one slow step at a time. His voice was a growl. “Is this what you want?” She nodded, biting her lips and trying desperately not to come again, just from watching him.

“Tell me you want it.” Jensen ordered.

Y/N nodded again, almost frantically. “Yes, fuck. I want it. I want your cock.” She reached for him as he stood barely a foot from the side of the bed. “I need it. I need you.”

Jensen climbed onto the bed on his knees, grabbing up her wrists with both hands and pressing them into the pillows on either side of her head. He stared into her eyes as he spoke.

“And I need you too, Y/N. I need you desperately, obsessively. I need you every waking minute. I need your love and your kindness. I need your good soul and beautiful heart.” He entered her in one hard thrust and she cried out. “But I also need your soft body. I need to sink into you. I need to feel you move against me. I need to hear you say my name like a moan. I need to feel you clench tight around me.”

He began moving slowly, sliding in and out of her with silky, unhurried movements. “I will always love you. I will always want you. And I will never need you any less than completely.” He cupped her cheek with one hand. “Do you understand me?”

Y/N nodded and gasped as his cock slid over her sweet spot. “Yes. Yes.” Was all she could manage to chant. But it satisfied him and he began to move faster.

He switched positions slightly so he could lift her hips off the bed, hooking her knees over his forearms. He began to slam into her, hitting that same sweet spot over and over until Y/N was screaming out her overwhelming pleasure and falling into euphoria.

Jensen continued to jackhammer into her, grunting harshly with each thrust. He pounded into her pussy over and over until she was once again on the precipice of bliss. As his hips faltered, he dropped one of her legs so he could slide his thumb between their bodies and swirl it against her clit. She screamed again and fell for the third time, clenching around him and pulling his climax out of him, along with her own.

The familiar aftermath of damp skin pressed together and lungs starved for oxygen, brought Y/N a kind of all encompassing satisfaction and peace. When Jensen finally rolled off of her, she rolled with him, so she could slot herself up against his side, wrapping one arm over his ribs and laying her head on his chest as he ran his fingers teasingly up and down her back making her shiver.

They were both quiet for a few minutes before Jensen broke the silence. “Y/N tell me the truth.” He said, and Y/N could hear the protectiveness and anger on her behalf permeating his tone. “Did someone say something or do something to hurt you today?”

But she just shook her head. “No, it wasn’t any different than a million other interviews really.” She shrugged. “Something about it just hit me, I guess.”

She raised up on her elbow, chin in her hand, to look at him. “But if you tell me you love me as truly, madly, deeply as you did the day we met, then I believe you.”

Jensen frowned slightly. “Are you comparing me to a Savage Garden song?”

Y/N giggled, but ignored the question, kissing him softly before laying her head back down on his chest. She smiled against his skin as she spoke.

“I believe you, but tell me again.”

Jensen’s breath ruffled her hair as he sighed contentedly. “I will love you, and desperately want to devour you, every single day of my life - for the rest of my life.”

Y/N nodded, and her voice was full of confidence as she snuggled closer. “Thought so.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#jensen ackles #jensen rpf #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles fan fic #request fic

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hellfirecvnt · 4 months ago

Text

Hard to Get

Prewar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ****This is a COMPLETE fic. This post is LONG!! Unprotected sex, oral, lying, slight fluff ending, Idk what else.

Summary: It's been a new experience being cast in the lead of the latest Hollywood movie. What's even more nerve-wracking is your far-more-famous-than-you co-star. After you can't seem to sell the chemistry between you to the director, you're pushed to spend more quality time with your cohort.

Notes: Barb doesn't exist. Cooper has never been married. I know she's the "bad guy" but I love and support Barb just bc she's a beautiful woman. Thank you.

"Quiet on the set!" A stout, demanding man's voice cuts through the dull rumble of idle conversation across the set of the movie you're starring in. It's your first lead role in a Hollywood blockbuster. You're nearly a month into filming, much more comfortable than you were in those early days. The veteran actors used to give you the hardest time. Some in jest, others in spite or envy. That's just showbiz.

Not a day goes by that nearly every man on the set makes at least two inappropriate remarks to a woman co-star or doe-eyed extra. Nearly, because one man, the other lead, has yet to make your stomach churn with unsafe discomfort. Cooper Howard. He's a world-renowned actor, known best for his westerns, but just as popular in other genres. Of course, he did ask you out for drinks in your first two weeks on set. He said it was to get to know each other, seeing as the two of you will be spending so much time together while filming, but your 10-foot-high walls wouldn't waver. You turned him down. Since then, he's been nothing but a gentleman.

The movie you're making is about a burnt-out detective on his last case. Cooper plays Detective John Silvers and you play the villainous minx, Monae Lark. The plot is that Monae will give John the run around of his life, accumulating mutual respect for each other's skills and eventually, accumulating romantic tension. The only issue with that storyline is... You are seemingly terrible at faking chemistry. SO much so, in fact, that they canceled all your scenes for the day and sent you back to your trailer. You are horrified as you step through the door, having held a perfectly calm face until then.

"Whoa, what's wrong with you?" Your agent, a short, frail, older woman with silver hair and a smoker's voice perks up on your couch when she sees your distressed face. Her name is Verna, and she's represented you throughout your entire career.

"They've canceled my scenes for today..." You slump in the seat nearest to you.

"What? Why?"

"Apparently, Cooper Howard and I don't have any chemistry." You make a mocking gesture with your hands. "The director is pissed."

"Well, duh. That's people's livelihoods we're wasting with every reshoot." Her bluntness hits you like a kick in the gut. "How do you two not have chemistry? You've been spending time together, right?"

"Of course! We read lines for almost two hours every day!"

"No, honey. That's working. Do you two spend time together? Like, get dinner and get to know each other?" The nonchalant nature of your agent's question perplexes you.

"Well, no," you admit.

"So you've just been coming in here and greeting him like a fuckin' grocery clerk before barking prewritten lines at him for a few hours?"

"I- Well... Yeah. He asked to get drinks back when filming first started, but I didn't want to look like the woman who got one big break and started fucking any man in Hollywood I could get my hands on!" The desperation in your voice is becoming more and more apparent.

"Relax, babe. The PR training we're gonna put you through to promote this film is gonna kill you if you can't have a little dinner and survive a few baseless rumors. I'm about to call his agent right now." The silver-haired woman reaches for the mint telephone and dials a number into the rotary.

"He still has scenes to shoot today, he's gonna be busy-" Your sentence is cut off when Verna holds a finger up, signaling you to give her a moment of silence. As she chats away on the phone, talking as if she's known the guy for years, you step over to the window of your trailer. Hesitantly, you peek outside, and there he is. Your intimidatingly famous and peculiarly handsome co-star.

"Fabulous! Talk soon, darling," your agent chimes from across the trailer. Just then, you see a man in a suit approach Cooper and tell him something. Context clues tell you all you need to know about their conversation. He's merely alerting his client of a scheduled meeting with his horrifically embarrassed cohort. You nearly squeeze your eyes shut to avoid the humiliation of any sigh or eye-roll he expresses in response, but that's not the case. You can hear him through the thin walls of your tin sanctuary.

"Tonight? Perfect. Send her something nice from me." He gives his agent a friendly pat on the back, sending him off. You can't help but notice Cooper's lingering smile, a new pep in his step. You can't help but chuckle at the display, it's monumentally relieving.

Filming wraps up for the day and even though your workday was cut short, you remained on set for various screen tests and voice-over work. A sudden knock on your trailer door causes you to jump. You pull your robe over your silk slip dress and open the door to an intern holding a luxurious flower arrangement in a crystal vase. Coincidentally, your favorite flowers.

"Oh! Thank you." You take the gift with a smile and the young man announces that it's from Cooper Howard, though you'd already gathered that much. "I'll be sure to thank him properly, then." You smile as the intern nods and takes off to his next task. You can't help but grin as you proudly place your new bouquet front and center on the counter. The large studio lights finally cut on and you step onto the large, open floor. It's much busier and louder now that the director has left.

"Glad to hear you changed your mind," a smooth, deep voice captures your attention. You turn to see Cooper approaching you, adjusting the buttons of his sleeves.

"You must forgive my ignorance, Mr. Howard. I'm a Broadway girl. I didn't realize how different our worlds are until I got here," you laugh. "Being seen out with a costar on that side of the circuit will get you dubbed something tasteless if you're not careful."

"Ah, well. Seems like the tabloids should spend less time worrying about what women do with their free time. I promise not to give them anything to talk about." He smiles a bright, friendly smile, winking.

"I appreciate that," you say, walking beside him as you head toward the exit. If you were leaving the theatre with your co-star in this way, all eyes would be prying into you with jealousy and hoping for the opportunity to knock you off your pedestal once and for all.

"You do have to do me one little favor though." He stops walking as if his request will be heavy. A lump grows in your chest as you assume this is it, this is where he proves he's just like the others.

"You've gotta knock that 'Mr. Howard' shit out," he chuckles. "Cooper." He extends a hand as if to redo your meeting all those weeks ago.

"Y/N," you grin, shaking his hand firmly. He repeats you as if your name tastes sweet on his tongue. With that, the two of you make your way to his car. He opens the door for you and you can't help but chuckle at his chivalrous actions. Cooper takes you to the nicest restaurant in town. Pricey, even for your recently fattened wallet.

"So, what should I know about classy, mysterious Y/N?" The refined, older man grins at you from across the fine wood table.

"Classy and mysterious? You give me far too much credit." You make a dismissive motion with your hand. "I'm an open book once you get to know me."

"And how easy of a feat is that, exactly?" He intentionally tilts his chin up, looking down at you through his eyelashes. You're taken aback by the effect it has on you. Unwilling to be an easily swooned newbie on the scene, you regain control of your train of thought.

"Not at all." You smile wickedly. "I hope you're patient."

"Of course I am, I've hardly noticed it's taken 20 minutes for our wine to get here." The two of you share a quiet laugh in the dimly lit restaurant.

"What about you, Cooper Howard? What should I know about you that the tabloids haven't already covered?"

"I'm an open book, no effort necessary." He shrugs. You burst into a hard-to-stifle laugh.

"I hardly believe that. What do you do in your free time?" You ask, staring off small.

"I drink inside a big, empty home and I reminisce." He sighs.

"What on Earth are you on about?"

"Before I was The Cooper Howard, I was just a man with a farm in the middle of sunshine and fresh air: nowhere."

"I never would've guessed," you shrug, taking in the new information. The waiter continuously fills your glasses and you take small sips as you listen.

"What about you, Broadway? What were your early days like?"

"I've been training and performing since I can remember. But I know I used to love drawing when I was a kid. I still do it sometimes, when I have time."

"Are you any good?" He asks bluntly.

"I'll have you know I was better than kids three and four grades above me in the arts program," you brag unseriously.

"You'll have to draw me something someday."

"I'd love to," you grin. The two of you continue talking, sharing funny stories from your childhoods and early days in your careers. After a while, this man whose status and essence alone used to intimidate you somehow feels like a peer.

"What brings a star of the stage over here to the film industry?" Cooper asks smoothly.

"They sought me out, actually. Must've been my look or the way I sound like honey with a transatlantic accent," you wink. Cooper chuckles, enchanted by you. He reaches a sly hand across the table and watches you notice it. You glance at his awaiting palm, but you don't meet his touch. He raises an eyebrow as he slowly closes his hand, drawing his arm back in.

"This place is nice, but-"

"I'm not going to your place, Mr. Howard."

"I was going to say we should order another bottle of this wine." He laughs, drawing you in with his brilliant smile.

"Forgive me, Cooper. One of these days I'll let my guard down," you jest. The evening rolls on smoothly. Your table is a quiet haven of laughter and camaraderie. For the first time in your career, onstage or in front of the camera, you feel a genuine sense of friendship with your co-star. When you performed Chicago as Roxy Hart, your male cohorts made the air thick with discomfort, while the women did everything in their power to drag you down. It's not their fault, of course. The industry forced them to be that way.

As the hours pass like minutes, the night comes to an end. Cooper pays the bill and tips the waiter a generous amount, not unnoticed by you. He walks you to the car, opening the door for you to slip inside.

"And they say 'Chivalry is dead,'" you wink as Cooper closes the door. In the few seconds it takes for him to round the vehicle and open the driver's door, he lowers his guard. Truly taken aback by your suave nature compared to the nervous mess he's known you as. It must be the wine, though neither of you is drunk.

Undecided whether or not he's met his match, Cooper finally opens his door and takes his position in the driver's seat. He seems almost nervous, not moving as gracefully or speaking as cool as he's known for.

"Just right around this corner, here," you say, pointing to the turn that leads to the road you live on. Cooper can't help but steal curious glances at the enigma next to him. What was meant to be a business dinner/ PR move has turned into a challenge to him, and doesn't every cowboy love a challenge? Of course, he had no plans of overstepping any of your many firm boundaries, but he planned to melt you the same way he melts for you right now.

You arrive at your home and he unfastens his buckle as well, leaving the car on. You glance at him, assessing his intentions. He's quick to notice your ocular pat-down and volunteers to put your mind at ease.

"I'm walking you to your door, sweetheart."

"That's very kind of you, Cooper. Thank you," you smirk, entertained by his ability to read you so keenly. He escorts you safely to the large oak door of your humble, yet still high-end abode. The two of you stand in silence for a moment until you speak. "If you try to come inside, I'll have to sic my very large dog on you."

"A very large dog?" Cooper asks, feigning mild fear.

"She doesn't like men," you smile warmly, bantering playfully.

"Maybe one day, she can try warming up to me."

"Until then, Cooper Howard," you nod, disappearing inside your house. He's nearly shocked, but mostly he's giddy.

What a woman, he internally monologues. His walk back to the car packs that same pep as when he found out about their dinner in the first place. Maybe even more.

After just a couple weeks of running lines together and the occasional after-work bar hop, your days on set become a comfortable routine, rather than a journey into the lion's den. You can't help but feel like you have Cooper to thank for that. The scenes between you two are now known to make the interns blush.

"Action!" The director's firm voice slices through the air. You and Cooper are positioned at opposite sides of the "room," a set made to look like Detective Silvers's office. It's dark, and a dim street lamp's glow reaches through the barely opened blinds. You run a delicate finger along the windowpane before speaking your first line.

"You've impressed me, Detective Silvers. That's not an easy feat." You take two steps to the left, placing your foot perfectly on your mark.

"You're not so easy to fool, Ms. Lark. Not like they said, anyway." The tone in Cooper's voice when he plays this character sends a wave of involuntary goosebumps down your flesh.

"You can call me Monae, honey. Don't we know each other well enough by now?" You strut gracefully across the room, leaning teasingly over his desk, where he sits. "They always say I'm a fool, because I play it so well, don't I?" Slowly, Cooper straightens up in his seat, bringing his face closer to yours as you drape across the desk.

"You keep a hell of a poker face, darling," he whispers. Something in his eyes tells you it's Cooper speaking, not Detective Silvers.

"Cut! That's a wrap!" The director dismisses the crew. Everyone's shoulders relax in unison. It's undoubtedly been smooth sailing ever since you and Cooper started spending more time together.

"Hey, Y/N," Cooper calls out to you as you head back to wardrobe. You turn and meet his gaze with a smile. "You're not busy tonight, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm waiting for my coworker to tell me what our plans are," you chuckle.

"Coworker? Ice cold. We're friends." His grin is diabolically attractive. You thank the stars above for the layers and layers of makeup concealing the darkening blush on your cheeks.

"Of course we're friends, Cooper. What are we getting into tonight?" You ask with an excited grin.

"There's a new lounge opening downtown. I know the owner pretty well. And not to brag or anything, but it's a pretty nice place to get a table on opening night." He smiles, holding his arms out as if he's waiting for a yes or no from you.

"Your friend's club is opening?"

"Well, don't make it sound too exciting now," his sarcastic tone draws a laugh from your lips.

"I'm pulling your leg, Cooper. I'd love to go." The two of you split off to get out of costume and makeup. Once you're back in your own attire, you begin to feel a sense of panic.

"You gotta stop making that face, babe. You're gonna get a worry line." Verna appears in the common area of your dressing room.

"Verna, what do you know about the new lounge opening downtown?" You turn to her with narrow eyes.

"It's a pretty big deal. Bonnie Lewis was complaining about not getting a table until next weekend," Verna laughs. You begin to wonder what kind of strings Cooper had to pull or if his story about knowing the owner was true. Not that you think him a liar, it just seemed like banter at the time.

"I need to go home." You snatch your keys from the hook next to the trailer door and bolt to your car. Verna stands in confusion, hair blowing in the breeze of your speedy exit.

"No, no, no!" You groan as you tear through your closet. Nothing seems to fit the idea you've made up in your head of what a woman should wear to something like this. You can't decide which would be more horrifying, being overdressed or underdressed. You start thinking up excuses to give Cooper why you can't come out tonight when suddenly, there's a knock at the door.

"Delivery for a Ms. Y/L/N?" The bright-eyed delivery girl hands you a large, flatter box. You thank her and nod goodbye, taking the package inside to your room. You scan the outside for any indication of what it could be or who it's from. You get fan mail all the time, so it's nothing new.

You take a blade to the taped seams and uncover a note atop a few layers of tissue paper.

"For tonight, if you want. -C.H."

You furrow your brow as you reread the note a few more times. Curiously, you place the note aside and reach for the tissue paper, unfolding it to reveal a stunning mass of glistening fabric. With widened eyes, you reach into the box and lift the garment to see it's a long, crystal-stoned dress with a high slit up the side. It reminds you of something your character, Monae Lark, would wear. It's gorgeous and looks like it costs as much as your Hollywood home.

You hold the dress up to your body in the mirror next to your bed and it's perfect. You certainly didn't own anything of this caliber until now. You get dressed and ready, hoping your finest jewelry does the dress its due justice. For just a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You take in this heavenly view, you can hardly believe it's you staring back at all.

A ring of the doorbell snaps you from your thoughts and you make your way to the door. Standing on the other side is Cooper. The moment his eyes meet yours, his face becomes illuminated with a big, marveling smile. He glances at you, up and down, taking in the way the dress drapes over you like water down a stream.

"You look magnificent," he speaks in awe.

"Thank you for the dress, Cooper. It's beautiful." Your eyes sparkle as you thank him for your gift.

"You're discrediting yourself. It just looked like a sparkly piece of fabric before I saw it like-" he places his hands daringly on your hips. "This." You gasp at his invasive action, taken aback by his boldness.

"Shall we get going, then?" You smirk, undeniably excited by his touch. He leads you to the car and opens the door for you like a gentleman. His chivalrous displays only make you yearn more and more. He's always like that, even on set. He prioritizes your comfort, especially in the sex scenes, which you've been reshooting a lot lately.

Cooper escorts you inside the lounge. They don't even check the list, everyone knows who you two are. Eyes and camera flashes all focus on you as any and every media outlet tries to get their hands on the latest spot to be seen in downtown Hollywood. You feel glamorous on his arm as he leads you to the table. Cocktails are promptly ordered and arrive at your table in impressive time.

You take in your foreign surroundings. It all looks so high above you, yet you're here. It's humbling. The ceilings are tall and dark while the rest of the room is dimly lit. A band plays smooth music to a crowd busy with multiple conversations. You're both sat in a large booth with seating that wraps all the way around. The low light bouncing off the crystals on your dress draws any and all attention to your table. To you. To Cooper sitting with you.

The night is fun and exciting, you nearly lose track of your drinks, but as always, you manage to remain only slightly buzzed. Careful not to sully your own name with drunken hijinks. And while you're not drunk per se, you are feeling much bolder than usual. You can't seem to pry your eyes off of your arm candy. Cooper is quick to notice, playing into your flirtatious behavior.

"Do I have something on my face?" He chuckles, brushing his hand against his cheek, tracing his jawline. You know right then that you've been caught gawking and your face turns bright red, hidden thankfully under the dim lighting.

"No, Cooper. I just happen to like what I'm looking at, is all." You bite your lip, surprised by your own words. You even think you can see him blushing.

"If I'm being honest, I really like what I'm lookin' at as well." His eyes burn into yours.

"Everyone's looking at us," you whisper, drawing closer and closer to him in the round booth.

"Let them watch," he mumbles, closing the gap between you two and drawing you into a passionate kiss. Your heart begins to race as his hands roughly grip onto you, pulling you closer to him in the booth. "Can we get out of here, darlin'?"

"Take me home, Cooper," you sigh as your eyes travel back and forth between his eyes and his lips. You don't know if it's the drinks or the rush of being the main attraction in this swanky club, but it's taking you over and you have no objections.

"Whatever you say," Cooper says with a sly smile, extending a hand to you to guide you out of the booth. The walk to the door seems endless, as you find yourself ravenous to get him alone again. It's no secret for either of you that tensions have only been growing ever since your first dinner together. He clings to you, not so much possessively, but protectively. Almost as if he doesn't keep you latched to his side as you make your exit, you might fall away and break like the delicate crystals adorning your flowing dress.

The brisk night air coats your flesh in a cloak of goosebumps. Anticipation accelerates your pulse to an unknowable pace. When you reach his car, you pull his collar to your chest, cueing him to pin your hips against his vehicle and kiss you deeply, ignoring the paparazzi flash. But only for a second, as the second blazing flash snaps you back into reality and you hastily make your way into the car, giggling. Cooper shoots a knowing look at the flashing cameras, smirking with pride as he struts to the driver-side door.

When he gets inside the car, you're both laughing at the prying cameras. A part of you feels worried about how the tabloids will make you look, and Cooper can see that fear on your face. He furrows his brow.

"Hey, you know it's all..." He trails off, staring at you intently. You can nearly see his gears turning behind his eyes.

"Are you okay?" You ask, confused by his mid-sentence shutdown.

"Forget about it, I gotta get you somewhere a little more private." He winks, pulling out of the lot and past the ever-flashing journalists. You've fantasized plenty of time about this moment, how it'd play out. It's your current favorite dream to have, no doubt. His hand on your thigh lightly digs his fingers into your flesh, growing more and more desperate the closer you two get to your home in the hills.

You emerge from the car after he parks haphazardly in your driveway. The two of you are apart for mere seconds before he's upon you, locking your lips with his, wrapping the full lengths of his arms around you. You're nearly, quite literally swept off your feet. You lead him to the door and he follows your every step, beguiled. You open the door and spring inside.

"Surely I get to come inside just this once?" Cooper leans in your doorway as the distance between you grows. You stare at him, scanning your eyes up and down teasingly. He looks like he's ready to fall on his knees and beg.

"You're quite the gentleman, Cooper Howard." You shift your weight to your hip.

"My mama didn't raise me to barge into a lady's home uninvited."

"What part of our trip to the door makes you think you're uninvited?" You tilt your head. The conversation seems almost reminiscent of the characters you both play.

"The part where you didn't invite me in," he grins.

"My God, are you a Vampire?" You jest. "Please come inside. Make yourself at home," you say sarcastically. "Do I need to tell you what I expect you to do next?" Your words are rushed, as he speeds toward you once he's received his invite. He wraps you in another firm embrace and plants kisses and light bites along the slope of your neck.

"I think I can take it from here, darlin'." He plants another kiss. "Unless you're feeling like bossing someone around." He winks, allowing his hands to wander freely up and down your body, grasping at your breasts and thighs.

"Keep kissing me," you demand, to your own surprise more than his. He does as he's told, only hesitant for a second to register what you said. You break the kiss momentarily to make another demand. "Take my dress off, carefully." You instruct. Cooper happily obliges, doing exactly as you ask, carefully. Once your dress is carefully placed aside, he takes in the breathtaking sight of you, nearly bare before him, just a room's length away.

Your undergarments suggest you had this plan in mind long before getting in the car this evening. Lace and silk with garters and corsetry. You're unreal, even to a Hollywood Star like Cooper. His mouth hangs agape as he drinks in the image laid out in front of him.

"Well?" He awaits his next instruction.

"Oh, please," you scoff. "Lose the jacket, loosen the tie." He does as he's told, taking your commands and unfastening a few of the top buttons of his shirt. As he draws closer to you, crossing the room from where he'd sat your dress out of harm's way, he rolls his unbuttoned sleeves up his arms. There's something primal and animalistic about him as he towers over you where you lie on the bed.

"Now, you tell me what to do." Your voice is almost shaking as you say this, excited and anxious to shift the power dynamic. Cooper's face spreads into a soft smile. It's almost eerie.

"Come here." He snaps his fingers softly, pointing to the edge of the bed in front of him. You giddily comply, taking your seat with a pretty posture. You're perfectly positioned at his waist. "Belt."

You waste no time, wrapping your hands delicately around the buckle of his belt, unfastening it and moving on to the button and zipper. Cooper's erection strains against his underwear, hard and throbbing against your palm. He sighs at your touch, eyes rolling back in his head as you toy with him through his boxers.

"Touch yourself," he commands with a quiet rumble of a voice. You do as you're told, locking eyes with him as you slip a hand past your panties. You moan under your own knowing hand, pouting your lips in an 'o' shape. Truly putting on a show for someone so deadset on maintaining a "pure" reputation.

"Cooper," you moan his name, earning a surprised smirk from him. He shakes his head in disbelief.

"So careful, so reserved, so... Mysterious," he chuckles, caressing your cheek in his palm as you continue to play with yourself. "I knew you must've had secrets, but my God, you filthy little thing." His words are like sugar and honey as he showers you with praise. "I'm going to make you feel so good, babydoll."

Cooper gently tugs your arm away from your drenched panties and replaces your hand with his own. He carefully pumps his middle finger in and out of you, earning sensual moans from deep in your chest.

"Oh, my God!" You chant to the heavens, riding an indescribable high. Cooper is far more skilled with his hands than you could've anticipated. After a few moments, you realize he was paying attention to the way you touch yourself, and is now attempting to mirror that. And he's doing well. The attention to detail is enough to bring you ecstasy all on its own.

He tugs his undergarments down, freeing his tumescent cock from its restraints, still fingering you all the while. His large size is jarring, but you've never been the type to turn away from a challenge. You take his shaft in your hand and pump up and down as you wrap your lips around his tip. His hand is quick to find the back of your head, carefully working you further and further down his length with each bob of your head.

"Jesus Christ, baby. Look at you," he groans, tugging your hair to make you go faster. You keep at it as long as possible, long after your neck is good and sore. Finally, he takes a sharp inhale and pulls your face away from his waist.

"Lay back on the bed, darlin'. I can't wait for this anymore." Cooper withdraws his hand and slides your panties down your legs, careful to leave the rest of your scandalous outfit in place. You're certain he's going to place himself in front of you and fuck the daylights out of you, but instead, he lowers his head to your dripping cunt and begins licking broad stripes up and down your slit.

You melt into his technique as his tongue explores every corner of you. The knot in your stomach tightens as you arch your back, desperate for more contact. A daring hand makes its way to his pushed-back hair, encouraging him. You can feel his lips curl into a grin against your delicate skin. In your pleasure-induced haze, you begin to wonder how you found yourself in your own bed, getting eaten out by Cooper Howard.

Suddenly, he pulls away. His actions are rushed now, almost desperate as he reaches for his waist, taking the base of his cock in his hand and positioning himself over you. You're anxious but excited. There's a fire in your blood as he slips inside of you. Both of you emit guttural moans, filling the room with the vulgar sounds of huffing breaths and wetness as he thrusts in and out.

"You look so pretty when you're getting fucked," he whispers in your ear before jerking you up from where you lie. He positions you on your hands and knees and you take it upon yourself to arch your back like a cat, dipping as far down as you can. The sight of it is enough to make Cooper faint. You're the prettiest putty he's ever had in his hands. He trails his soft, open palms down your sides, resting his hands on your ass.

Cooper gropes and smacks the supple flesh, earning coos of approval from you with each strike. He basks in your beauty for a while, taking the moment in. He bites down on his index knuckle, looking away from you for a moment. You glance over your shoulder to investigate the sudden hold-up, and he looks preoccupied.

"Cooper," you gain his attention back to you. "Now is a terrible time to have second thoughts..."

"I'm afraid all I'm thinking about right this second is this." Abruptly, you feel him slip back into you. A gasp invades your lungs as you push yourself backward, allowing him deeper inside. His pace is quick and steady, guiding you like an expert to your orgasm. He's at it for so long, your arms threaten to buckle. When he notices the slightest waver in your elbows, he shoves your face into the mattress. Your arms are instantly relieved and he picks up his vigorous pace.

"Oh, god!" Your wails echo off the walls of your large bedroom, stroking his ego with every moan.

"Come on, baby... Cum for me..." He huffs, talking you through the growing knot in your stomach. He withdraws for mere seconds to shift your positions. He plants his feet on the floor and returns you to your back, tossing one of your legs over his shoulder as he picks up where he left off. His thrusts become sloppy, though they still maintain that toe-curling speed.

"Oh, wait!" You cry out, but his hips refuse to relent. He shushes you sweetly, fucking you until your climax renders you breathless. You moan loudly and sensually, it's like music to Cooper's ears. You're well and fucked out as he continues chasing his own high. After only a few more moments of overstimulation, he pulls out and pumps his cock until he finishes on your lace-clad chest. You watch him through fluttering eyelashes as he throws his head back in ecstasy.

"You're... Something else," he huffs between heavy breaths. You create room for him to collapse next to you on the bed and he happily obliges. The two of you, sweaty and breathless, lie in comfortable silence for a short while. "Hey, when do I get to meet your big, dangerous dog? She's awfully quiet."

"I don't have a dog." You state flatly, admitting your lie.

"I had a feeling that threat wasn't so serious."

"Oh, it's plenty serious. It's just not true. You can stay the night if you want," you offer with a smile as you rise from the bed and make your way to the bathroom to shower.

"Stay the night, huh?" He repeats you.

"Yes. I'd like it if you did," you wink, disappearing to clean yourself up before bed. Just as you're about to reach for the handle to turn the water off, you're joined in the shower.

Cooper buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close to his naked body from behind. You share a passionate kiss under the warm running water before you step out and let him take over. The two of you sleep in each other's arms, completely naked, bundled in your expensive bedclothes.

In the following days, news breaks of your visit to the lounge with Cooper. The photo of the kiss by the car is plastered on every magazine faster than you can blink. At first, you're terrified of what this could mean for your stage career, should you never get another role in film, but Cooper continuously reassures you. Weeks go by and you can't remember the last time you left the set without him by your side. He makes you feel safe and beautiful. You trust him in ways you didn't think you could trust men in the industry. You don't care if the two of you never label what you have, you're just happy to have it.

It all seems to be a little too perfect until the day the film debuts. You and Cooper are a sight to behold on the red carpet at the premiere. The cameras can't seem to keep their blinding flashes off the two of you. Cooper seems in high spirits, wrapping you in tight hugs and kissing your forehead sweetly. You're a sap for his PDA ways.

The movie receives a standing ovation and you've never felt more pride in your life. For yourself, your co-stars, and the crew. Riding a high so strong it feels like glitter in your blood, you can't wait to get your man back home and show him how proud you really are.

"Cooper, hey!" You call out to him at the exclusive after-party. When he turns to face you, he smiles wide, pulling you in for a kiss while damn near dipping you like a dance partner. "Whoa, I need to call your name more often."

"Screaming it works for me too," he winks, eliciting a red-faced chuckle from you.

"Are you coming back to my place, or do I have to beg?" You ask, staring up at him with large, sparkling eyes.

"Well," he looks at you and then glances around the room, seemingly lost in thought for only a moment once again. "Of course, darlin'."

After arriving at your home and promptly tearing each other's clothes off, you lie leisurely on the bed next to Cooper. All of a sudden, he's sitting up and getting out of your bed. You're hardly aware of what he's doing until you realize he's getting dressed.

"Where are you off to?" You sit up, perplexed by his out-of-character quickness to leave.

"Unfortunately, I'm a busy man after a film premieres." He's staring at his cuffs, fastening the button as he talks to you.

"Of course, of course. It's just... So late."

"You're telling me, honey," he quips, planting a quick kiss on your lips and disappearing out the door. You hear him exit out the front and start up his car, pulling off into the night. You sit in silent shock. Surely that didn't just happen. Cooper Howard didn't just come over, fuck you, and leave after your film premiere after weeks and weeks of an ongoing intensely sexual relationship.

You decide to remain calm, after all, what else can you do? He's not yours to worry about, but worry, you do. You climb out of bed and shower as usual after a night with the beautiful man you thought you trusted until moments ago. What reason did he have to lie to you? To leave? You're a white-hot ball of smoke and fire when you emerge from the bathroom.

A lot of things can be used to describe you, most of them, very good. One thing, for you, stands out. Anger. You're slow to anger in nearly any situation, but when it happens, it happens. You're someone else entirely when you're angry. You get dressed, somewhat casual, somewhat flashy. Something to blend in wherever you may find him because that's where you're going.

After perfecting your hair and makeup- not one to get caught slacking- you slip into your car and make your way to the first few places you can assume he'd be. You check the restaurant where you had your first outing, in case he'd already romanced another co-star on another set. Not there. You check the lounge his friend owns. Not there.

"Hey there, handsome. The owner in?" You ask the bouncer.

"He's in the back, you're welcome to come in, Ms. Y/L/N."

"Thank you, darling. You're my favorite part of this place, you know that?" Your praise causes him to blush slightly and you make your way to the back office.

"Whoa! You can't just waltz in here!" A man wails angrily behind a shabby desk.

"I can. I definitely can. Where is Cooper tonight?" You tilt your head, scanning the man's face for any inconsistencies in his expression.

"Oh, shit! Y/N, we don't really get a lot of customers before we open," the man jokes, hoping to avoid the question. Not because he knows anything, but simply because he's not a snitch. You respect him for it... or not.

"Where is Cooper?" You repeat.

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell ya if I did." The man shrugs shamelessly.

"I'll be seeing you, Vince." You smile warmly and depart. From behind you, you can hear him yelling after you, asking how you know his real name. You're a different person when you're angry, an observant person.

You leave the lounge and check a few more places with no success. Finally, you drive toward his house. The car is completely silent save for the sound of your angry, shuddered breaths. What it all comes down to is you never expected Cooper to owe you anything, but he was going to call it quits to your face like a man or you'll do it for him. When you pull down the long, private driveway, you're shocked and appalled by what you see.

There's a party going on. A real classy rager, it would seem. Your perfectly lined and lipsticked upper lip is pulled into a disgusted sneer as you exit the vehicle and calmly strut toward the door. You don't bother knocking, who'd hear it? You walk right in the door and resume the endless search for Cooper. You circle like a vulture to a carrion, eyes narrow with anticipation.

"My God, Y/N, is that you?" A familiar voice booms behind you. Sebastian. He plays a part in the movie that just dropped.

"Sebastian, you look stunning in yellow," you gush, latching onto his arm. This outgoing, charismatic behavior is foreign on you, but he's too drunk to notice your near-blind rage.

"Does Cooper know you're here? Come with me, darling." Sebastian guides you to the backdoor down several sets of porch and deck stairs. You can already see Cooper before he sees you. He looks drained.

"Sebastian, is he okay?"

"You ought to know, shouldn't you?" He winks, nudging you with the arm you're clinging to.

"What does that-" your question is cut off.

"Cooper! You won't believe who I've found," Sebastian announces, stepping out of the way to reveal you. Cooper's eyes widen.

"Ohh... Sea Bass, you gotta get out of here..." Cooper whispers, not breaking eye contact with you.

"What? Why? I thought you-"

"Go inside, Sebastian." You intrude, staring tangible daggers into Cooper. Sebastian finally vacates the premises and you wait for Cooper to start talking. The two of you share a long moment of staring before he finally stands from the patio chair.

"Y/N, I can-"

"Explain? You can explain. This is incredibly hurtful and confusing, but thank God you can explain." You hiss. He's taken aback by your venomous tone, but he knows he has it coming. "You don't owe me anything, I get that. But I was so clear that I didn't want to be treated like this." Your words sound heartbroken, but your tone is steady and harsh.

"I would've told you- I wanted to tell you, but your agent-"

"About the party? I don't care about the party, Cooper! I'm talking about all this fucking time we've spent together. You really put on a show for those paps, I remember that. Why go public when we won't even put a name on it?"

"Y/N, are you talking about the PR stunt? By the car? I thought that you..." He motions vaguely with his hands to symbolize his confusion.

"A- A PR stunt?" You repeat, mouth hanging open.

"Wasn't that why you kissed me?" Cooper asks, clearly as confused as you are.

"No, Cooper." You nearly laugh in disbelief. "That's not why. Why did you come to my house and do all that in front of no cameras? Huh? Was that a PR stunt? Did that feel like I knew it was a PR stunt?"

"I hesitated! I was wondering the same when you-"

"Well, thank God you hesitated. Hallelujah, amen, I'm going home. Sorry if I messed up your ruse. I hope I didn't ruin the illusion of nothing." You grit your teeth to stop you from speaking anymore. The walk back up all those steps and past everyone inside feels a thousand miles long. Cooper just stands there, silent, watching you walk away. Your emphasis on your last word holds all the hurt you were trying to hold back.

"What just happened?" Sebastian appears behind you like the busybody he is.

"Exactly what everyone thought: nothing." Your words are meant to sound hateful and angry, but they just sound sad now. You speed out the front door, away from the party and everything it entails. Once you're in the car, tears pour down your face. Your worst fear comes true. Humiliation, heartbreak, hubris. You begin to understand what they mean when they say "too good to be true."

At your agent's request, you're staying at home for now. Minimizing going out unless it's for press. And God, there is so much press. So many large rooms that feel hopelessly cramped as you find yourself shoved into Cooper at every turn. You maintain perfect composure for the cameras, even Verna is impressed as she watches from the sidelines. She's heard your woes time and time again, but even she sympathizes with you this time. You worked so hard to avoid this situation for so long in your career.

"Do you think we could talk later?" He mumbles in your ear with a big, fake smile and you giggle as if he's whispered sweet nothings.

"Fuck you." You reply with a playful faux grin. He sighs, but neither of you let up from the act.

"You really are Monae Lark, huh?" Cooper chuckles nervously.

"Please let me just get through this in peace." Your voice carries hurt. So much so, that he can feel it in his chest when you speak.

"Alright, I'm sorry." It's the last words shared between you two for the entire rest of the evening. You're ice cold, surrounding yourself with walls much, much higher than before. Cooper notices, but no one else, save for Verna and maybe even Sebastian, can tell a difference. Your ability to mask this pain only adds to his endless guilt.

You're being interviewed with another actress, finally tied up in a conversation you want to be in. You're glowing in comparison to your moments next to Cooper. Meanwhile, he and Sebastian sit off to the side, having just finished their interview with the same host.

"I think you should just accept your loss. Maybe you two can rekindle something in ten years," Sebastian shrugs. Cooper looks at him in disbelief of what he's just suggested.

"I don't want to 'rekindle something in ten years,' I want her now. I want her back." He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, stressed.

"I thought you weren't putting a label on it," Sebastian chuckles.

"That was before I found out that she had no idea we were doing PR, fucker."

"Oh, calm down. It was a misunderstanding," he looks at Cooper. "So make it understood."

In the days following that event, Cooper tries his hardest to take Sebastian's advice, but you won't let him speak when you answer your house phone and realize it's him. Weeks go by and you demand Verna find a way to schedule you and Cooper at opposing time windows for every press event here on out. You appease the crowd with a lot of "We just missed each other, but I'll see him at home," with a stupid wink. Everything feels so fake. It feels like you're constantly acting now, it's exhausting.

"Look doll, I can't help you out of seeing him at the award show in a few weeks," Verna warns. It's now been a month since you and Cooper last saw each other, longer than that since you've spoken. You're both so busy, your minds haven't had time to ruminate on each other like when you had to see each other all the time. The pain has softened and even the paps stopped asking about where the other one is when you go out.

"It's fine, Verna. But I want you to hire the stylist from my press tour in Italy last year. When I was in Aida."

"On it, boss," she salutes, already holding a phone to her ear.

Verna gets you some face time with the stylist and you discuss what you're looking for in the look. You describe something sparkling and demanding attention, something Monae Lark would wear. As you watch the designer sketch, you realize you've described the dress Cooper gifted you. You're just now piecing together that it was meant to look like your character, it wasn't meant to be a sentimental gesture. You become furious all over again, demanding that the woman scrap that sketch.

"I want it form-fitting, black, silk." You begin listing adjectives that feel right.

"Tulle gloves? Fingerless?" The designer introjects.

"Yes, I love it. Not fingerless. Past the elbow. I want villainess, I want revenge."

"A revenge dress on the red carpet? I love my job." The artist begins sketching like mad and you watch your vision come to life on paper. It's perfect.

"You have two and a half weeks to get me fitted for this dress, is that okay? I'm sorry for the short notice." Your kindness goes a long way with this woman. She ensures you'll see your dress long before the deadline and you do, having a fitting only a few days over one and a half weeks later. The dress is everything you could've hoped for and after the alterations you're dressed to kill.

The night of the award show, your dress is perfectly fitted and your hair is styled intricately to match. A makeup artist finishes off your look and you stand to check yourself in the mirror. You look like your character stepped right out of the screen. A cold, heartless, murderous vixen, scorned too many times.

"Have you decided who you're walking with?" Your agent asks, concerned.

"I can't show up alone?"

"I'm afraid only the men can get away with that one unless you want prying eyes," she shrugs. You opt for calling Sebastian. You don't want to look like you're attempting to make Cooper jealous or hurt his feelings and you know all your actress co-stars already have dates and escorts. He graciously agrees, happy to know his two pals have opted for the high road.

"Well, let's get you on that carpet," Verna escorts you to your limo where Sebastian waits. The ride to the event makes you nauseous with anxiety, but you're not sure why. It's not like this is new to you anymore.

You make a grand entrance, on your co-star's arm, causing you to be bombarded with inaudible questions and blinding camera flashes. Sebastian separates from you for his own photo op. You give them various sultry poses, looking over your shoulder, and placing your hands on your hips. Your face remains stone, emotionless. Your sharp makeup and flat expression make you look like a piece of art. You're melting into your character for the cameras when you hear someone yell that Cooper Howard just walked in.

A decent amount of the cameras that were shoved in your face migrate over to him. Time seems to slow down for one whole minute as the two of you lock eyes. Every emotion neither of you had any time to feel has come rushing back. You reach out to Sebastian for some sort of grounding. Cooper notices that you're on his best friend's arm and he knows it's to show no malice. He sees it for what it is, an olive branch.

"Wow, you really mastered that empty, yearning, hopeless, doomed-love expression!" A man behind a camera shouts at you. You'd thank him, only you weren't trying to make that expression, regardless of how on theme it is for Monae.

"Let's see Cooper and Y/N together again!" Another pap yells, prompting Cooper to join you where you stand against the backdrop. Sebastian reminds you that the show must go on, leaving your side so your ex-fling can replace him. Cooper pulls you into his embrace, keeping his eyes on the audience. After several flashes, they demand to "see the love." You pull Cooper into a tight hug, smooching him on the cheek, leaving a large lipstick mark. He's smart enough to know that while you didn't show up with intentional arm candy, this isn't his real welcome. It's all for the cameras.

Without much thought, Cooper, to keep up the charade, catches you off guard by planting an unsuspecting kiss on your lips. It shouldn't have affected you the way it did, but the moment he pulls away, you two finally get a look at each other. Sebastian and Verna seem to be locked into the slow motion of the moment as well as their eyes bulge out of their heads while they watch your face shift through emotions.

"You're the meanest man I know," you whisper, heartbroken, before running off the red carpet and into the nearest empty area. You do your best to find privacy before you let your tears ruin your makeup.

Back in the carpet, Cooper and Sebastian stare at each other in horror before Sebas finally speaks up.

"Oh, no! A wardrobe malfunction at an event like this is dreadful. I'm glad she was able to catch that," he announces, patting Cooper on the back. That story seems to sell just fine as the cameras move on to the next arriving star.

"What the fuck were you thinking, kid?" Verna appears before Cooper the second he gets inside the building.

"I wasn't! I thought a kiss would shut them up, I was trying to speed this whole thing up for her," he sighs.

"Where did she go?" Sebastian asks the raspy old woman.

"We don't know. She took off so quickly, I couldn't see where she went." The old woman mumbles something angry under her breath and returns to looking for you.

You're in a room not intended to be accessed during this event, but it wasn't locked, so who cares? You find the nearest seat and allow yourself to cry quietly into your gloves.

"What did I do to deserve this? My career is so fucked when this gets out, and what is he?" You rant aloud to no one.

"He's looking for you," Cooper answers your rhetorical question.

"No, he's fine. His career is fine. Everything for him is fine."

"What makes you think that? That I'm fine?" He sounds offended, frustrated.

"Well it was all just an act to you, wasn't it? I fell hard and it was just overtime for you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he makes a sharp motion with his hand, angry and precise.

"I thought you felt the same and I'm utterly embarrassed now. I'm so embarrassed, I can only be angry. And I'm so heartbroken, I can only cry. It's unproductive." You pull a compact mirror from your clutch purse and begin fixing your makeup to the best of your ability. "I didn't want to be your on-set floozy."

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't communicate what that night at the lounge was. I'm sorry I let you invite me inside your house. I swear, I thought you knew what we were doing. I thought the self-preservation thing was a shtick you were just really good at." Cooper takes a few steps closer to you. "I thought it was just fooling around, so I didn't want to get attached, but-"

"But what? Because this is all just kind of hurting my feelings again."

"But I did get attached. I did catch feelings. The night of that party, I was outside spilling my guts to Sebastian because he was the only person who would hear it."

"Cooper..."

"I'm not done." He puts a hand up. "I miss you. I've been pissed off every single day just because I can't talk to you. The minute I forget about you, it's like the wind blows a different way and I'm reminded of the way your hair catches in the breeze when you're in my car with the windows down."

"Cooper."

"I think about you every single day and I'm fucking livid with you for making me wait this long to get to say this to you." He inhales deeply. "I think I- I'm in love with you."

"That's... A little sappy, Cooper."

"Oh, come on." He drops his shoulders, defeated until he hears you start to chuckle.

"I guess I'm in love with you too," you admit.

"You guess?" He raises a brow, feigning offense.

"Would it have hurt this bad if I wasn't?" By now, Cooper's crossed the room. He answers your question by closing the gap between you and locking his lips with yours. It feels like breathing for the first time in months. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. You both missed this.

When you both finally rejoin the party, you're inseparable. Nothing in the world can knock the cheesy grins off your faces. Sebastian looks on proudly, standing next to Verna.

"Well, looks like I've lost my date," Sebastian laughs. "Shall we?" He offers Verna his arm and she laughs loudly before accepting.

You and Cooper quickly find yourselves in the position of Hollywood's favorite couple. It not only skyrockets your career, but his as well, seeing as your fan base from the theatre followed you over to film, and eventually, they found and adored Cooper. The next time either of you comes to a misunderstanding, you take Sebastian's advice. Make it understood.

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thoughtspresso · 1 year ago

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This Tweet by Aka Akasaka:

I always thought there was something unhealthy about Akane’s relationship with Aqua. And while I don’t think she had ill intent, personally, it’s just like a lot of people you may have met that also either had depression or have very unstable support systems -- they tend to depend heavily on people who did treat them with kindness and gave them affection. Albeit, not by their conscious effort to use people, simply a reflex driven by a personal need to feel useful and appreciated by the people they feel love for.

Spoilers after the break.

In many scenes after Akane’s attempt during the LoveNow arc, it’s shown that she’s become to give a lot of herself to whatever it is she thought Aqua would need of her. She was happy to give those things, including:

Act as his dream girl

Be his showbiz girlfriend even with her awareness that he’s using her

Help him kill somebody in the industry

Bear his emotional burdens

Kissing and sex, even during their showbiz relationship

Listening to her romantic rival brag about their steakhouse date and be cool with it

Being in a relationship with somebody who she knows still bears feelings for somebody else

Being okay with getting bugged/GPS-tracked if only he said so

Tracking down his father for him

Confronting and possibly killing him herself so Aqua doesn’t have to

I do think that Akane genuinely believes she was being helpful. She believes doing these were all good things.

But what she doesn’t really realize is that she was, in a way, being an enabler to Aqua’s darkness, or triggering his traumatic feelings even further.

There was something consuming about their time together.

I felt like, Akane was absorbing him somehow. Not in the literal sense. But their relationship was one where they fed into each other’s darkness. She wanted Aqua to be more dependent on her, and he was kind of glad to have someone enable his delusions--whether that he would find and kill his father, or that it was all over and he should just stay with Akane because it was the safe, scandal-free relationship to have. In Akane he found a brief respit, but also he continued to lie to himself a lot.

He gives this up when he realizes that even with Akane, being with her puts her in danger. It was the very opposite of the thing he hoped to achieve in that relationship, when he said he wanted to protect her.

In really stark contrast, Arima Kana says things like this:

She just snaps him right out of a fucking monologue.

Whenever Aqua tries to bear everything by himself, she reminds him crudely that he never had to protect her, and that he’s supposed to learn how to communicate:

In a way, it’s Kana’s radical honesty and her core understanding of who the true Aqua is all along that will set him towards the path of real freedom and healing.

Of everybody, she’s the one who knows what Aqua is like when he was at his best. And every time they’re together, they draw out the light from each other.

That, instead of Akane who says “I’ll go to hell with you if you ask”, Kana just says, “Wake the fuck up”.

So often, being stuck in your trauma also means that you need help getting out of it. You need good support systems to remind you that your trauma isn’t all that you are. And this all-consuming guilt you’ve borne on your shoulders isn’t really there anymore--you just believe that it is because that’s exactly what trauma does.

I think, despite Akane’s best attempts to remind him that things weren’t his fault, and that he doesn’t have to carry burdens by himself, the fact that she enjoyed being useful to him was, in some way, also keeping him there.

I know that there are a lot of great Kana moments after the baseball scene, but I’ve come to love coming back to their first time meeting each other again.

Even in her first re-appearance in the story, when Aqua was being all angsty emo sadboie about his acting career, Kana’s immediate reaction is to hire him, and believe in him.

Kana just wants to see him shine, too.

The way he makes her shine.

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko spoilers #oshi no ko fan theories #aquakana #aqua x kana #arima kana #hoshino aqua

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guppybibi · 4 months ago

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It's Showbiz, Baby.

𖦹 pairing: Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader

𖦹 word count: 2460

𖦹 content: shinsuke is in deep denial, slowburn…very slowburn. hints(?) of body image issues and eating disorders. shinsuke is insanely oblivious. mild cursing.

𖦹 notes: a lot of the farming terms are from google…i i dont know how it works. Also just posted it on my AO3 ! (hearts4abbie). I apologize for any misinformation about the topics here, all of these are from google. next one is them having a silly 'date' tee hee:p

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ Part 1 ┊ Part 2

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

It was the break of dawn, and Shinsuke was already up and about in the fields; sleep was still in his system. He yawns as he tends to his rice grains, spraying on some fertilizer to increase the yield. Adjusting his hat that keeps him cool while under the sun, he yawns while intently watching the sky as he waits for the sun to rise. To his own surprise, he was met with a light tap on his back which obscurely startled him. His body instinctively does a little jump, yet his face said otherwise as it was still the same as before. Turning around to see who it was, expecting it to be his family. You were standing right before him in humble clothing, one wouldn’t think of you as a viral sensation with how you looked like right now. Shinsuke mentally shook his head, he shouldn’t stereotype that all celebrities prance around in designer clothing..

“Um..Shinsuke, right? Can I ask you something?” You asked in a rather meek tone which Shin didn’t really expect, sure he had already met you yesterday but he couldn’t just automatically assume how a person acted based off of one single interaction. He won’t lie, he has watched multiple of your movies with his sister and you coincidentally played all of the roles that required you to be rude and mean. He just..expected you to act that way in real life as well since you were so good at playing those types of roles. It was like you were meant to be playing the role of an antagonist in every movie you star in, yet the figure in front of him tells him a completely different story. “Yes, what do you need Ms.- um..Y/N.'' He curses himself in his head when he slips up, he had permission from her to address her casually; after all they seemed to be about the same age as each other. “Well I’m sorry for bothering you if I did but I heard there’s a plaza nearby? Do you know the directions to it?” You ask, fiddling with your hair as you anticipate his answer.

“The plaza..? Well I’m not so sure which plaza you’re referring to but the nearest one here is about an hour away..” He replies and gets a disappointed look in return, hearing you mutter an “oh..”. The air of dismay surrounding you struck something in him, he wasn’t sure he knew what it was but he couldn’t stand seeing you feel that way. He assumes it’s just his hospitable nature striking a chord in his system, a lady was in need of help; his client out of all people so he needed to help. “I’m actually stopping by there later this afternoon to drop off some deliveries, maybe you could tag along?” He offers, quickly catching your attention. “I’d love to! Thank you so much, I’ll pay you-""No need to pay me with money, I don’t need it.” He bites his tongue to stop himself from offering her to help her around the farm or cleaning his home, remembering that she was a guest and a celebrity. He shouldn’t let her lift a finger, she was here to relax; not to scrub the floors of their porch. Though you notice he was about to say something, urging him to continue. Humans had the right to speak after all! Unless he was an alien–no that was stupid..You couldn’t help but visualize him as an alien though..”No no! Go on, I’m not that sensitive. I’m sure I can handle whatever you were going to say.” You insist, the white haired man still looking unsure. “I..Maybe you could help with scrubbing the floors..?” He suggests, his voice barely audible as he tries to avoid your gaze. “That’s it?” You question, tilting your head to the side.

Shinsuke looks at you, raising another thin little brow. You spoke of the chore like it wasn’t a laborious task, sure it wasn’t the hardest one but it still required a good amount of effort. “You don’t really need to-” “No! I- I mean, I’ll do it!” Shinsuke knew that he had no place to argue back, whenever he had disagreements with women he always somehow managed to lose. Whether it be with his grandma or sister, it seems like it hasn’t changed until now. “Alright, I’ll take the silence as a yes. When do I start?” You ask, looking oddly excited to do such a chore. Shinsuke thinks about how his whole family is still asleep right now, not to be awake in a few hours or so. It would be best if she started while his sister was asleep so she doesn’t go batshit crazy when she sees her idol scrubbing the floors of her home. “If it’s okay with you, you can start now. When you’re finished, come back to me.” He instructs while you nod in agreement.

“The things you need are in the closet over there, thank you. If you don’t want to do it, you can always stop whenever.” “I’m not made out of glass, I can scrub a few floors here and there! I’ll be back.” Then you set off, Shinsuke could see your figure from afar–on your knees as you cleaned the floors. He can imagine his dear grandma scolding him for making a guest such as her clean their home. Eventually, you finish the task given to you; putting away all the supplies you used and proudly standing before the now squeaky floors. Looking over to the field, you see that Shinsuke was already pretty far. Running over to him, following his instructions earlier; you weren’t so sure if you were panting because you’ve been running too quickly for a while now or if your body is just tired from the task you just did. You always felt tired, you didn’t know why. Everyday you just felt so low on energy, like you were about to collapse and fall asleep. It never really worried you, you weren’t a sickly person–even as a child.

You stop in your tracks once you reach Shinsuke, who is still doing farm work. Hands on your knees and sweat beading on your forehead as you pant, you looked like you ran a marathon. A concerned expression arises on his face, about to reach out to help you before you start waving your hands. “I-I’m alright! I finished scrubbing the floors, they’re squeaky clean!” You babble, hands on your hips as you finally managed to lift your body up. “Um..alright, thank you Y/N. I’m actually about to finish up so we can have breakfast together? It’s 7AM already, unless you’ve already had your fill before coming up to me earlier?” Have you eaten yet? You don’t really remember, it’s not like you keep track of everything you do daily. You shook your head no, feeling your stomach grumble at the idea of food. You blush as you hear your tummy growl, wanting to shame your own belly from loudly announcing your hunger in front of your acquaintance. Shinsuke just smiles though, almost identical to the one his grandma always has. He doesn’t really notice the sounds of your stomach, not that he cares–it wasn’t any of his business. “Very well, come with me. I’ll just reheat some of the rice porridge we had last night, if that’s fine with you?” Rice porridge..It sounded nice, considering that the rice was made by them; a bunch of well trusted rice farmers–it must’ve been good. Yet the next words you blurted out next were quite different from what was on your mind. “How many calories does that have again?” You swore you sounded like a crazy health nut just now, realizing that it may have been interpreted as something rude. “It’s about 80 calories, I don’t see why it matters-” Stopping himself yet again, something felt weird..Shinsuke has never doubted himself, never. So why does he feel like he’s walking on eggshells when he’s around you?

Is it because you’re a literal leading light in the entertainment industry and could quickly trash his whole family’s name with a snap of a finger? No, with how you’ve acted so far; he can safely assume you wouldn’t do that over something so simple. However there really is something churning in the bottom of his stomach, you didn’t seem right to him. “80 calories huh..Well since I’m on vacation, I should treat myself to a good meal!” You mumble to yourself, shrugging as you watch and follow Shinsuke while you both trek back to his family home. You were honestly pretty surprised how welcoming he has been so far, is this how all province folk are? Wondering if his family was the same and that Shinsuke wasn’t an exception. You might as well move right here, this instant! “After you,” The bicolored man spoke, sliding the wooden door open carefully so as to not wake up his still sleeping family. Looking around his home as you step in, awe fills you once you see the traditional interior of the home. It felt strangely comforting, nothing you’ve ever felt even when staying at the grandest mansions back in the city. Everything truly has its own charm..”Make yourself at home, I’ll just heat up the food.” As Shinsuke excuses himself out of the room, while he heats up the food; the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. Perhaps it was just hunger, it must’ve been.

He’s never felt this way in a rather long time, the feeling has a similar tinge to when he was looking after his volleyball team way back. Watching over them like a proud father, feeling obliged to take them under his wing. Or the first time he saw his little brother, light shining on the swaddled baby as Shinsuke thanked the Gods above them. Care. That was what he felt. But why did he care about you? You were a mere client to him, ones he came across with everyday. What exactly made you different? He just couldn’t put a finger on it..He decides that he’ll soon do what he thinks is best, questioning his family about it.

Having breakfast with you felt natural, chatting about your two contrasting lives surely kept you both entertained as you gulped down the meal. The calming aura surrounding you both that felt just right was disturbed when Kimiko entered the kitchen, still in her pajamas with bed hair as she rubs her eyes open. She stood by the doorway, staring at you; recognizing you almost immediately. It took everything in her not to pounce onto you in excitement, she doesn't even know what to do first–is she still dreaming? She pinches herself, hoping she wasn't in a dream.

“Good morning Kimiko.” Shinsuke greets, interrupting Kimiko’s buzz as he drinks some water. Then you figure it was time for you to greet her as well, it’d be awfully rude not to. “Good morni-” “OH MY GOD! I- And you're having breakfast with my brother!?” She even takes a double take to make sure you were really eating together with her brother and he didn't even bother to tell her! She couldn't believe this, it was practically betrayal! “I’m Kimiko, it's so so so nice to meet you- I’m honored-!” She blurts out, taking your hand and shaking it instinctively. She was in such a thrill she didn't even notice she was crossing your boundaries a little bit.

What she did notice is how bony your hands are, a punch from you would definitely hurt..The inner Kita family hospitality and concern arises in her system, looking down at your linked hands. They were veiny but that was normal, but someone of your age and height shouldn't be this skinny. She slowly sets your hand down, apologizing for her actions. “It's alright, no need to apologize. It's a pleasure meeting you Kimiko, your family has been nothing but great since I got here.” You commented, flashing her one of your signature soft smiles that made everyone melt.

“And, thank you Shinsuke for the meal. I’m going back to my cabin, I’ll get ready for the ride later.” You then excuse yourself and leave the two siblings alone, once Kimiko makes sure you're out of the vicinity she gives her brother a knowing smirk. “A ride, huh? Got a date?” Shinsuke shook his head no, he was just doing you a favor after all. “No, she's going to the plaza so I figured it’d be best if we go together.” He gets a disappointed sigh from Kimiko, huffing as her excitement dies down. “Awh..too bad, I thought my brother actually scored a date with a celebrity!” The bicolored man was unfazed, used to her sister's teasing. Shinsuke never really bothered about his love life, putting his work and family as his top priorities. He knew it was important but he had to set goals first.

“Ya know I got eyes on the back of my head, I know you have a thing for Y/N. To be honest, you really aren't the only one so I’m not surprised. I wouldn't mind her being my sister in law!” Her words made the man think, he simply believed that this was just infatuation. She was a beautiful young woman after all, the whole world was aware of that so it really wouldn't be anything extraordinary. He wasn't one to believe in things such as ‘love in first sight’, those were just things entertainment made up. Kimiko knew what her brother was thinking, annoyed at it..or she's just a ‘little’ bit of a hopeless romantic. “I know you're thinking this is just infatuation again, and I’m not pressuring you to start a thing with her or anything–but if you feel something for her then go for it. Take the chance.” Again, this made Shinsuke think. He knew she was right, still–he never really had the heart to go further as ‘friends’ with the people he met. Not that he was uneducated about it, he was honestly just a busy guy. The part of her being a celebrity set him off a little bit though, her life was far from private and quiet. The complete opposite of what he desired, he felt like it wouldn't work out in the long run. “Um..yes, alright. Though I do believe a ‘crush’ of some sort is formed over time thr-” “Yes yes, we get it! No need to do some rocket science explaining, now go prepare the packages. I’ll have breakfast and clean up.” She cuts him off, pushing him out of their humble family home. Shinsuke grumbles under his breath..

“Maybe for once in my life, the results won't be just a byproduct.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x female reader #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #hq kita

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askthenoises · 1 year ago

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Hey guys!!! How are you guys? Hope your doing well! On with my qestion. What things do you guys do together?

A lot of the time when Theo is free we are at my cafe! We often chat and eat, it’s great!

Though, lately Theo hasn’t been that happy. He’s always doin’ that showbiz stuff! My lil’ Noisey needs a break methinks… Hope this blog is a new change of pace <:]

#hazel entry #pizza tower #noisette #noisette pizza tower #pizza tower noisette #the noise #the noise pizza tower #pizza tower the noise #pizza tower pizzard #pizzard #dougie jones

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

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And kia... ora (?!) to New Zealand, like you've never seen it before 🤭

Just listened to Monica Gleberman's latest podcast with S. Twice. I can only urge you to do the same: it's 19 minutes long and well.. I'd just love to read your thoughts on it. By the way, I had no idea the woman even existed (happens a lot in SC world, at least to me) before she chimed in with indignation, you know... the Palestine Letter, and such.

But first, my short assessment, of course. By the way, this was recorded, I think, on November 1st, based on this X post:

Showbiz being showbiz, all grudge is now forgotten and you can listen to the podcast on Spotify, here (no subscription needed, of course):

OK, I honestly think her voice and her completely clueless, torrential debit are totally meh, but maybe that's just me. She made me think of one of those Tupperware representatives, always eager (hungry?) to sell something to you and do it quick, drug-dealer style. Some in Mordor thought she was drunk on the job (a half-emptied bottle of SS Gin was emphatically mentioned at least twice during the interview) - as usually, no humor and nasty.

I just think she was just acting too cool for school and #silly, with a severe case of ovaries going...

... on top.

Straight off the bat, the OTT praise is on steroids: how amazing S is, how he never changed, 'same sweetest person and like an amazing human being and friend to talk to and I just love you'. Kill me now, but that was unnecessary - yet still useful, since it prompted this answer (02:54):

'Well, that's very kind of you to say, but I think that's not true...I think there's...there's a lot of smoke and mirrors, this is ALL fake, um...underneath, there's a completely different human being. I have a double, actually. I AM the double. Um.. no, it's been a great journey, I'm very lucky and yeah, it's [OL] given me a lot of opportunities, as well (...).'

Translation: I am joking, but not even joking, if you see what I mean.

You'd think that was casual banter? You might want to think twice. Like all Taureans, bless their heart, S always almost heavily insists, when he wants to make sure the message gets across (07:12):

MG: ' Soooo, I don't know what's true, what's not true, but I'm just gonna assume that, you know, you looove watercolor. So, what is your favorite watercolor painting to make?'

Huh? Did I get that right? The answer does not match the clumsy question. At all. But see/hear for yourself:

S:' Err, you know what, I mean, I actually do, I actually have a couple paintings.. um.. from a..an artist called James Morrison, he was a Scottish artist.. he.. he actually painted a lot around Scotland, but he also painted up in the Arctic... the Arctic Circle... I'm kind of obsessed with him, so yes, this actually,,, this is truth...damn, I didn't know you'd actually put truths in here, but, you know...'

MG: ' OK, so we're already breaking barriers, right? Like revealing secrets so that is... that is... true.'

I shall not comment this. I do not think it needs any translation, to be honest.

The 'illiterate' S is, apparently, a keen art connoisseur and how could it be otherwise, if you only think of his mum? And Morrison is not just your average Scottish watercolorist. If you care to check his Wikipedia page (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Morrison_(artist), you'll find interesting things, like:

His works can fetch at auction (here at Christie's in 2006), around...

... and the recent (conservative) estimates are stable. You can check them here: https://www.invaluable.com/artist/morrison-james-1932-9fybkaiqbc/sold-at-auction-prices/. A very good investment, on a volatile, whimsical market (I know very well what I am talking about).

Surely enough, some of you will just hear that horrendous cackle and the flirt fest that totally goes south by the end of the podcast. But maybe - just maybe - if you listen a bit more carefully, you'd have a rare peek behind that damn mask.

#Spotify

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1eoness · 1 year ago

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uhmmmm actor leon kennedy?? mayvbe

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni}

a/n bc i love rambling : so uhmmm when i was writing this there was an electric explosion right outside of our house so the power's out in our neighborhood and im back in this damn cafe LMAOOO

a/n : (update lol)i wrote this like monthssss ago (wtf this sucks).. so im back nd im gonna post this bc why the fuck not it's still rllyyyy bad and a lot of word repeating but yeah just felt like posting lol

synopsis : actor!leon kennedy has been in the gig too long to deal with nepotistic, wide-eyed girls like you. yet much to his exasperation, you're just too much of a greenhorn in the showbiz world.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -you can fucking skip this part idc- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you've only ever heard his name maybe once or twice in one of the magazines in your mother's bar. you must've read it over and over again, having to see his name and face habitually to endure the excruciating hours of working behind the bar with your phone in a locker. you weren't particularly enthusiastic about films or Hollywood or WASP families, either. but it was better than nothing.

it started like this. you were wiping the cedarwood slab that dewed with beer, when the woman who sat across you (having drunk maybe 4 pints) reached over with her veiny, grisly hands. the acrylics tapped at your temples when she held your awkward face.

said "woman" was your aunt who just got back from monaco. and she's been urging you to work with Pierce. whoever that was.

you were well content with the life you had right now. but sometimes—often in front of your vanity— you did find yourself fantasizing about the 'big city'. you caught yourself in a cliche dream but the idea was invigorating, the mere machinations of those opportunities dangled above your eyes like meat on a stick.

"..oh, but.. i don't think it's practical, you know?" you excused as you dismissed the billowing thoughts in your head. even if you had the physical assets that aligned with the director's vision, it would still feel wrong. some people go to literal schools for this stuff, don't they?

but she remained persistent. and after a low, lighthearted sigh, she continued her persuasion. "..y/n, you're a diamond in the rough." your aunt neared you, holding your hands together in a friendly hold. "..let me make it a reality for you."

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

so. were you a natural? hell no.

you're wearing a costume that you can't even touch without the stylists getting mad at you. you got harped on and poked at for so long you were starting to get a migraine. the studio refused to let up on you, jabbing at you passive aggressively until you curled like a millipede. honestly, you were more pissed than sad!

and leon? god, he was a total fucking hottie. and he was totally cold.

the director announced an hour break to everyone just before they'd jump straight to the next scene. you remained sat on one of the props, hands clasped on your lap, contemplating the choices you've made over for the 7th time today. you were fidgeting like you were anxious. you forgot how breaks felt. the luxury was there, five star hotels, velvet cushions and robes and office gossip and dinners with imported wine and cheese. but it felt like hell. working with leon was the only thing that made it even ten percent worth everything, but even he doesn't seem to like you. why was everyone so mean? fucking fair enough, you were beginning to hate this place so much you might ask for a cigarette yourself.

the petrichor mellowed through the film set, nibbling her skin with chill. nights in raccoon are cold, you needed to keep mind of that in case you decide to open your front door without a jacket. the alleyways were diffused by vapor lighting and LED signs. you also had another superficial thought. what do people on set usually do when they're on break?

you whip your head up, legs swinging slightly as you scanned the area. most of them are either adjusting equipment, going through script, or smoking one. you turned your head to your right without expecting much.

you saw leon leaning against the wall, next to the director, sharing smoke (you're beginning to see this is a trend) and cheap laughs. you were mildly surprised, not realizing they were both adjacent behind you, and you felt goosebumps rise when your eyes landed on leon. you quickly looked forward again. you didn't want to move away.

you missed leon's subtle smirk to himself when his gaze flicked to the crown of your hair. he took a puff of his stick, still sounding like he was talking to the man beside him. his eyes didn't leave you and the way you sat there like you were going to spend the remainder of your break spacing out.

leon's voice was nonchalant behind you. to you, it was faint chatter. "...life will chew you up and spit you back out before too long, but that's..."

...

was he talking to you?

leon wasn't too nice on you while you guys were on set, but he wasn't so directly mean either—emphasis on directly.

he's earned word of you from both your aunt and the director, obviously. he doesn't look like the type, but sometimes he has a knack for gossip. that's just how the nature of stardom works, doesn't it? name number #1 did this that tto name number #2, someone divorced someone, someone slept with someone—and the whole world goes aflame. he could care less about where you came from, why you're really here or who you were connected to. but something about you was thought-provoking. contrasting you, he worked for where he was. you just sat there looking pretty and snagged the role right away. maybe that sort of incompetency and oblivious audacity made you stand out from the rest. he found it pathetically attractive. you're an artless girl.

your head swiveled over your shoulder, looking behind and up at leon.

leon's eyes met your gaze halfway. "aww. is this your first big time acting gig, baby? no need to be nervous, it'll be alright." a tinge of mockery sweetened the husk of his voice. the director, who you now know is 'pierce', snickered at leon's subtle sarcasm.

the director tells him he's going to announce everyone to continue, since he wanted the rain to 'sex things up'. heaven's dew tapped lightly on the concrete as the director mounted his back off the vandalized walls, leaving you and leon alone in the same space. oh god.

for a minute you sat there quietly, letting the tension sink in upon the director leaving. you tentatively take another glance at leon. he wasn't looking at you anymore, and his hands were out his pockets as he swipes the little box open. soft brown tufts wisped when he shook his head to get the rain off his hair.

you got off the table. you walked to leon. you'd say your feet were moving on its own.

his head shifts to your direction. his bangs falling over his face. a gust of wind breezes by, and he smells deep, musky. like cardamom. cedarwood.

" if anyone's givin' you trouble on set..." leon looks down as he slips a cigarette in his mouth, rummaging in his pocket for his lighter. "you come to leon... 'kay?"

his hush voice was honeyed whiskey when it wooed at you, applying simple emphasis to his two-syllable name. leon, leon, how that name would sound in bed. there's a slight tease to his eyes, before diverting his attention to his cigarette, casting an orange glow in his palms when he flicks the lighter on with his thumb. his presence was prodding, inviting you with every inch of his body language. this man was blazing and you were a fucking moth.

he likes the way you're looking at him right now. your eyes are batting at every subtle sculpt of him. you can look away but he knows you're still thinking about him.

such a sweet thing, this one.

he decides to be 'friendlier', pitying the fact that you're obviously having a hard time socializing with the crew. "what's your favorite movie, doll?"

"mm.. i liked kill bill. and pulp fiction." you converse casually.

a name rolls off his tongue. "quentin tarantino." he nodded in what seemed like approval, watching a puddle.

you blink. "what?"

he glances at you and he doesn't reply, before leaving that wall all to yourself.

...

leon's tongue trickles with the taste of vouvray. you were art in the shadows, the honey lighting of the dimmed lamp doing nothing to illuminate leon's hotel room. your lips are glossed with his saliva, evidence of your breath went after he made out with you.

you're barely holding it, all while his big hands purchased at your flesh, drinking in the way you straddled his boner. the subtle friction where you were able to feel how big he really is intimidated you, blooming excited butterflies, your stomach fluttering at each soft push of your hips. you watched with your palms flat on his stomach, the soaked fabric of your panties collecting and staining all over his boxers as you stifled a needy whimper. "y'need it now, baby? oh, don't go soft on me now... i'll take care of you, just tell me."

his pretty baby, sitting on him and too shy to plead from the big shot. leon's hands languidly travel your skin, palms massaging up your sides. "...i-i wan' it.. i want you.. please.." you murmured hazily, leaning down to give him a soft kiss to compensate for the bashfulness that rode over your speech.

"is that right, sweetheart?" he bit his lip gently at the teasing sight, loving the way you sounded needier by the minute. "oh, baby, go on. it's all yours, yeah?.." he crooned, patting your thigh gently.

"easy, baby.. oh, there you go.. atta girl.." he groans prettily when he's muttering you through it, eyes delectably gazing at the way you sink on his length. it was cute to him seeing you not knowing what to do with your hands. but he watches you settle them on his built torso, and he could only look at you in adoration. god, he was so fucking thick and you were so highly strung..

leon's touch stroke at your knees. you aren't moving, and he looks almost amused seeing you try to render just how he feels inside you. "i can't.." he heard you murmur before you giggled quietly, to which made him chuckle as well. but the flustered laughter dies down. the actor groans, feeling your fluttering grip around his cock, making it his instinct to hold onto your waist.

it didn't take long before you started getting loud. your arousal lathered up and everytime you pump down a creamy squelch. "mhmmm... uhh, keep going.." leon whispers, and his eyes stared at where your bodies met. you could hear a soft whimper from him—vocally begging your sweet little self to go faster.

leon watches you trying to change the speed. poor girl, you looked like you were already starting to ragdoll. you resisted stopping, unable to with the way he'd rub into the right spots. leon took your small, depleted whine as a sign for him to initiate. he was just letting you have your fun. just until you'd get a bit frustrated. by this time he'd already lit another cigarette and the stick perches between his lips.

"..tiring, ain't it, sweetheart?" leon coos, feigning pity for you, fingers clutched at your hips like its his favorite thing to hold. he started to thrust up into your sopping little cunt, pulling a weak mewl out of you. there might be nothing he loves more than watching your supple frame as it bounces atop him.

"mmm.. aww 's okay, baby.. leon's got you.. mhm, that's right." he responds to every quaint sob you make. his stamina was stubborn as he gradually shifted his pace.

"nice and quiet, baby... don't want th't fucker 'pierce hearin' you..." leon almost feels like a sick fuck, pretty lips grinning slightly as he moans. "god, fuuuuck... mmmhh... uh- f-fuck!" leon almost whines before giving you a harsh thrust, as if he were desperately trying to make you his cocksleeve. if you were going to take it so well then you shouldn't be surprised at how he's gonna force you down, and keep you in place while he sluts you out.

you're murmuring something, and the words fall like blabber to his ears.

leon smiles endearingly, as if he isn't fucking you stupid right now. "mhhh.. wanna cum? you wanna cum?" leon asks as he tries to make sense of what you're saying.

and you gulp, gasping through your watering voice. "w-wanna cumm.. give it t'me-"

he tries not to laugh.

"c'mon, let me make you cum... i'll make it feel good.." leon murmurs before you could feel him pound into you, a whine dripping like syrup from your voice. your body barely keeps up. you feel tight and it's making leon's head tilt back a bit. "oh, there you go, sweetheart... atta girl.." he mumbles hazily as his mind starts to get messy.

"like that? uhuh? mmmh?~" leon moans back almost mockingly at each pleasured whine that spilled your voice. you're mindlessly pawing at whatever you can reach on leon, turning him on with your helplessness. "takin' me nice and well-..." he growls as he starts to piston up into your cunt brutally. you look cuter when you're stuffed with leon's thickness, when you're crying on what you begged for.

"leon, c-cumming" you lolled out in a low moan, head leaning slightly. "i'm gonna cum.."

he responds with a groan, hips rocking upward as he feels you clenching around him. "go on, baby, give it to me. 'm right here,"

he has you shuddering when you cum, the vibrating sensation jolting to your brain as it reeled in pleasure. it takes a few shallow thrusts to keep you satisfied but it's hard to tell when you're already sniffling and twitching on top of him. you wipe your face as you draw a few breaths. leon reaches to warmly take your wrist, thumb pressing onto your skin, feeling your heartbeat.

he watches you gather your bearings before generously caressing your hair once. you help yourself off leon's shaft and a heavy-sounding breathe escapes him in wonder.

leon whispers something once he leans into you and chucks his half-dead cigarette into the ashtray. "c'mere.." his one arm tucked around your back and eventually the other to your leg as he makes you lie down. he treats you with some sort of delicacy, at least until he doesn't.

leon tugs you closer with his arm hooked loosely under your knee, pulling your princess body in for a few intimate kisses to calm the both of you. he tastes mildly bitter. you hummed in his mouth when your lips lock together, eyes fluttering while you felt weak. leon starts muttering as he asks if anything hurts, if you're okay, if you're gonna stay here for the night. for a moment he doesn't say anything and he's just gazing down at you languorously while he breathes. he kisses one of your eyelids before he shifts.

maybe leon liked you better like this, on your fours, limping against the satin bedding as you cried and panted in a way that seemed like suffocation. his thick fingers tug at your hair once, your only teary view being the couch and the TV that dimly mirrored a reflection of you being held down be leon as he rammed into your dribbling hole tenderly. your legs occasionally kicking up against him, hitting him with your ankles as you found it hard to not writhe. he watches you peek over your shoulder, the expression in your eyes instigating struggle. "what?" leon tugs at your hair again, fighting the toothy smile from his face as he fucked you brainless. "didn't think i could make a whore out of you?"

leon lets go of your hair to rut into you with urgency. the bed was starting to jut out small squeaks from leon's rhythm. he leans closer, chewing on his lip as his eyes narrowed in pleasure. a soft growl emanates from behind you, skin on skin, breathing near your ear. the rough hands that were once planted near yours on the mattress start to grip your forearms like handles. he watches your back contort.

you jolt up as leon yielded you to his body, impaling you with his girth in a routinely fashion, urging you to cry louder. "oh, baby.." he whimpers lowly as he starts to feel himself lose control again.

"fuck, i can't.." you wail out, head hanging low briefly. he notices.

"ready to pass out, honey?" he pants softly.

you weakly shook your head.

"good girl." leon bit his bottom lip, whispering out a needy 'fuck' as he slammed into you while pulling you back. he felt satisfied by the way you yelped. his brows furrow, expression tainted with a lustful and crude color as he almost began to drool. brown strands started to get in the way of his vision. his breath is suddenly hitched, water lining his eyes as his voice turned up a note. he hisses, head tilting to the side. "fuck, fuck,-" his gruff words start to match with his thrusts. "take it- all-, yes, baby, that's a good- fucking- mnnnghh..."

it takes leon a while to recover, moaning lowly and riding his orgasm, watching you spasm beneath him while he spills inside you without much restraint. he tiredly fucks his load in you before he gives out and huffs a spent whine. he catches a glimpse of it. you're leaking white.

you're breathless, fatigued, sweating, and almost thoughtless as you catch some oxygen back in your lungs. you could feel yourself pulsating around his twitching shaft as waves of pleasure traveled your burning body. his arms loosen of their sensual hold before they catch you, pulling your weary form down to spoon with you momentarily. you can feel each other inhaling. exhaling.

a phone rang. it wasn't yours, you could tell by the ringtone. your eyes flit to see pierce's name on a default iphone screen. "i need a drink." leon exhales roughly, leaning over to kiss the shell of your ear before he reached for the bedside table to grab for his phone. he slipped out of the sheets with his phone on his ear.

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #this is so bad kms

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