#i think he said it was the Stunt director

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[berzahoes]

moments | tom blyth

summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)

an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼

ON SET OF BILLY THE KID

since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).

“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.

“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”

“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.

“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”

“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”

“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.

eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.

“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.

“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.

“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.

“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.

the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.

“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.

then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.

“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.

“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.

before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.

LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY

it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.

“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.

“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.

tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.

“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.

“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”

“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.

“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.

“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.

eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.

KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL

“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.

“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.

“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.

“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.

“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.

“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.

“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”

“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.

the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.

“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.

“is tom blyth single?”

the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.

“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.

“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.

“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”

[natalievoncatte]

“Director Danvers, Lena Luthor is here.”

Alex stared at the speaker on her desk for a moment, feeling her anger rise. She didn’t need this now. Whatever stunt Lena was pulling, now was not the time. She had fires to put out and Supergirl was out of the fight.

Kara, a voice whispered. Kara, your sister.

Alex’s prime directive was take care of Kara. Yet here she was, again, dealing wit the aftermath of Kara being knocked down and beaten to a pulp in service of people she didn’t even know. Half of them hated and feared her now.

How had she let this happen? By small allowances. Step A led to Step B and then on to Step C. It started with looking the other way while Kara foiled robberies and rescued cats from trees and led to Kara defacto joining an organization whose mandate was, on paper, to imprison her or worse. She told herself that she was doing good, that between her and J’onn, they had become the wolves keeping the wolves from the door. Under the right leadership, an organization mandated to “control” aliens could help and protect them.

It gave her no comfort when Kara was lying in the sunroom unconscious, and the government was breathing down Alex’s neck while J’onn was off finding himself on some pacifist bullshit quest.

(Why did their fathers always leave them? Were the Danvers girls doomed to face everything alone?)

Now Lena was here. Luthor’s sister. Alex had let herself trust this woman and she wasn’t sure how that happened either.

Might have been because her kid sister, her precious dumbass kid sister, was over the moon for her Lena and didn’t even know it.

It was Luthor who did this to Kara, Luthor and his allies. Alex had enough of this. There would be no trial this time. No public spectacle. She didn’t care if it ended her career or even her freedom, she was going to kill him, because Kara couldn’t. Kara would always look for the other way, the perfect solution. She was beautiful and good, a hero who came from the heaven to set things right. A saint.

Alex was not and she never pretended she could be.

She drummed her fingers on the desk and stared at the speaker and said, “Keep her in the lobby.”

“No, Director, I mean she’s here, outside your door. We… she can be persuasive.”

Alex reached over wearily and hit the button to open the doors.

Lena marched in, and the sight of her took Alex aback. The boardroom predator with the razor sharp hairstyle, flawless makeup and fuck me pumps was gone, replaced by what Alex would think was Lena’s kid sister under other circumstances. She looked her age, for once, dressed in faded jeans and a threadbare MIT sweatshirt, carrying a battered messenger bag.

Alex had never seen Lena so bedraggled. Her hair was a chaos of unkempt curls pulled into a low ponytail and she was sans makeup, and for good reason. Her eyes were painfully red and the tracks of her tears were as livid as if they’d been left by claws. Her bottom lip was trembling and she fiddled with the strap of her bag.

“Close the door,” said Lena. “Can we talk here? Is this room secure?”

Alex pushed the button and closed the doors.

She had barely said “Yes”.

“Where’s Kara?”

“Not here. Why would she be at the-“

“Don’t fuck with me, Alex.”

Alex looked at her sharply. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here with this, after you started working with Lex again.”

Lena stormed forward and slammed her palms on the desk, rattling Alex’s possessions. She leaned forward and glared with Alex with a furious, teeth-baring demand.

“The clone almost killed her. Where is she?”

Alex swallowed hard. “I’m not sure what-“

Lena cut her off. “I know Kara is Supergirl, Alex. I need to see her. Please.”

Alex rocked back in her chair as if struck by a physical force. The words slam into her chest like a brick into her sternum.

She knows.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve know for months. But you have to listen to me. Lex knew. He told me her identity, tried to throw it in my face so I’d turn on her. He knew her real name, he knew about you, he knew about your mother. You have to do something now.”

“Oh my God,” Alex said, standing. Mom.

“He wasn’t going to stop, Alex!” Lena blurted, almost hysterical. “He was never going to stop. He was going to kill her, he swore to me that she was going to die. I had to do it!”

“Do what?” Alex whispered.

“I had to kill him,” Lena wailed, balling her fists impotently as if she were trying to choke her own soul. “I had to!”

The reality of it slams into Alex and before she knows it she’s rushed around the desk to throw her arms around her friend, all thoughts of Luthors and loyalty and everything else going out the window as Lena sobs into her should.

“I killed my big brother.”

Lena’s voice so so small, so broken, that Alex can’t help but sob with her.

The fucking bastard just wouldn’t stop hurting them, even in death. Alex didn’t believe in hell but she wished she did for Lex Luthor.

Lena’s sobbing ebbed but did not fade entirely. There was only one cure for that.

“Come on, let’s go see our girl.”

Alex led Lena outside. First, she flagged down Brainy and gave quick, clipped orders: Get Eliza and get her here now, and find Nia and do the same. Then make a list of anyone Lex might have targeted and find them and get them secured.

Then she took Lena to the sunroom. They stopped outside and Alex handed her a pair of silly looking goggles.

“We can’t stay long, the light is too intense even with sunscreen, and you look like you burn.”

“Like a lobster,” Lena choked, pitifully.

Alex entered the code and opened the door.

Kara lay on the padded bed in a paper gown, bathed in sunlight. She was a mass of bruises and her right arm and left leg were in casts, a collar wound her neck. She’d been unconscious for three days now, possibly in the same kind of healing hibernation she’d fallen into after her first fight with Reign.

Lena rushed to Kara’s side and cupped her cheeks with her hands, brushing back sweat-dampened hair.

“Oh God,” Lena blurted, “oh please oh God Kara wake up.”

“She’s been out for days,” said Alex. “She’s stable, just not coming around. This has happened before. We think it’s part of how her body heals serious injuries. It just takes time. She’ll wake on her own when she’s ready.”

Lena didn’t even seem to hear her. She leaned down with an intensity and intimacy that shocked Alex to the core, and then shocked her further. Lena loosed three words in a language from a dead world that she has no business knowing.

“Zhao w rrip.”

Alex was thunderstruck. Lena knew Kryptonian?

“Lex had a translation dictionary,” said Lena. “I just hope I pronounced it right.”

“We need to go,” Alex said, glumly. “You can stay at the DEO. We could use your help and it’s safer for you here anyway.”

“Just let me stay another minute. Please.”

“If I do, your face will be peeling off tomorrow. We can visit again later. Come on.”

“I can’t,” Lena choked out. “I can’t leave her.”

Alex was an about to say something else when her mother fell open. Kara’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately turned to Lena, bleary-eyed.

“Did you mean that?”

“Yes, Kara, I meant it.”

“But zhao means-“

“I know what it means,” Lena insisted, so full of joy now. “I know what it means, darling. That’s how I meant it. I love you, Kara.”

Oh.

Alex swallowed hard. She didn’t want to interrupt but Lena, and not to mention Alex herself, would get very sick very fast if they didn’t leave this room.

Lena grasped Kara’s uninjured hand.

“You have to go. It’s not safe for humans in here.”

Lena swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

“Before I… can I…?”

“Yes,” Kara whispered.

Lena darted down and gave Kara a quick, soft kiss on her lips, lingering for just a moment. Kara smiled at her and their hands slid apart as Alex half dragged Lena out of the room and closed the door, then ripped off her sun shades and stared.

“How long?” she breathed.

“I’ve been in love with her for at least for years now,” Lena said, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve wanted to tell her for so long.”

Lips trembling, Alex was besieged. She remembered every time that she told Kara to stay away, not to trust her, not to tell her. The weight of what she has done presses her down as firmly as the knowledge that Kara will be healed soon lifts her up. There’s only one thing she can do.

She swept Lena into a bear hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting you and pushing you apart. I’m sorry I didn’t see sooner.”

Lena, at last, fully broke down in Alex’s arms. Later, when Eliza arrived, she passed off Lena-hugging duties to her mother until Kara was fully awake and can leave the sunroom.

Then, Alex went and did what you do for family.

She got rid of the body.

[icarusredwings]

Watching interviews from the olden days and finding gold.

Finding out that Hugh Jackman having to "be the alarm clock" for James Mcavoy and Micheal Fassbender because of how hung over they were is simply hilarious.

Also finding out that James slammed them into a Lexus (only doing 12 miles an hour) got thrown 10 feet, immediately got up and looked back to see Micheal (who was once on the back of the golf cart) now sitting upright in the drivers seat after smacking his head on the seat and got a gash scar on his leg from it- Only to start "maniacally laughing" and literally RAN AWAY once blamed, Is also so young cherik coded.

These crack heads definitely were getting into some nonsense trouble.

Micheal saying he thought the scene from the strip club with charles and angel "I thought we looked like the two old men from the muppets"

Micheal calling the x men "Charlie- boy's kids". Perfection.

Also the way James looks at him when ever Micheal just bursts out into song is so pure. The "wow this idiot... thats my idiot." Glitter in his eye.

James finding out that Micheal isn't american by driving up to him on a vespa, and screaming at him in his normal voice is so funny.

"Fuck you erik-"

"His names derik."

"How long has he name been derik?"

"Since the begining- you just keep calling him that."

Even the bloopers of Hank and Charles are such a vibe.

"Hold your breath but make it look like you aren't holding your breath" Man these leather suits gave them so many problems fr.

"I already said im not a man. I cant jump this damn wall!" I think storm says as the director goes right up to hugh and is like "Litsen when I say so youre gonna jump this wall" and hughs like idk about that mate. "Ill be talking to you through the big microphone that everyone hates" says the director. "Were gonna take the batteries out if it" says someone else.

Hughs stunt double: *screams*

Hugh: Let it go sis

Hughs stunt double: *dies*

Something about how the directors talk to hugh and how hugh speaks directly to multiple set members makes me feel like half the cuts they had to make was because of him joking and being a silly theater kid LMAO

Everyone randomly dancing all the time, including old magneto.

James too. The blooper of him violently killing a bug on the chess set in the plane scene is so "insane charles" iconic.

Also poor Evan peters. He kept slipping everywhere. And theres so many shots where hes just standing there in charater getting absolutely soaked while charles and Logan do some ridiculous shit lol. Him at panels is so awkward too. Describe your character " hes a little weird uhhhh hes fast. Hes quick. He talks fast he runs fast..... uhhh its like at the atm waiting for the bastard infront of you to move out the way" "I wish my dad magneto could try these 😀" "thats my dad"

Evan also wishes they would have done the scene in apocalypse where he tells him hes his son and all the metal in the room drops. Im someone has written this already but that sounds great.

"THATS MY SON, QUICKSILVER!" Shouts Micheal multiple times. "My boy!" "Its in the genes darling." "I had him when I was very young 😁"

[talleyuh]

just finished the bear season 3 and there is such a collective cognitive dissonance from everywhere from the writing of the show all the way to the social media marketing.

i know i’m biased because i particularly like syd and carmy together, but this season was strange but in different ways than the last season was strange.

not only does carmy take a backseat as a protagonist about halfway through, he and syd have hardly any scenes together, but i think the show almost suffers for it. this season was certainly funnier than the last, but the neil and ted fak got old and old fast. it certainly doesn’t help that even though carmy has a new arc every season, but he doesn’t take the lessons he should’ve learned into how he should act going forward. it’s stunting his growth and now that we have three seasons to compare to one another, it’s only more apparent.

we’ve already talked about how funny characters are stronger than comic relief characters and that’s essentially what the faks are. i really liked neil’s more vulnerable moments where he got to be taken seriously but it’s hard to take him seriously when all of his screen time is him doing stupid shit. also the hauntings thing? it really was not that funny.

also the show is making such an active attempt to rewrite its own history and i don’t understand why. so many little details that connect moments from the past and present to make up who the characters are and yet it’s kind of being thrown out the window.

claire being described as carmy’s peace threw me for a loop because he felt out of place in his own relationship. i think we all know the clip of carmy’s late s2 panic attack where thinking of claire and him together makes it worse but now we are given so many more scenes of when he was happy? what narrative are they trying to spin here? was carmy genuinely in love with claire or mostly disinterested, because it can’t be both.

even claire doesn’t seem interested in being with carmy at this point, and who can blame her?

her presence was just kind of weird to me, because she didn’t really interact with the rest of the cast until the 9th episode. i think her brief hospital scenes were to flesh her out more, but it’s really just creating vulnerabilities and revealing the seams. and because she’s never really been developed as much as everyone else in the series, we’re left with more questions. who was that in her bed? why was she never fired for insane medical malpractice? what is any of this for?

also a lot of the lighting this season has changed. i saw one user (can’t remember who but their post was super interesting) mention how much warmer and inviting the scenes with syd are as opposed to the coolness and almost detachment the scenes with claire were. except we see carmy in cool lighting a lot more this season.

i also wanted to add where carmy gets overwhelmed in the finale, thoughts of claire coming in with a violin sting like a horror movie doesn’t add to the narrative that they keep telling us. that’s another thing i noticed. they tell us how great claire was even though their time together hindered him being involved with his passions and his coworkers, but they retcon things and add scenes of them happy and have carmy tell us how amazing she is but they barely cared to show us.

a huge theme in this show is family and responsibility. and the scene where neil fak said claire could be the one to take care of carmy and vice versa really rubbed me the wrong way. first of all, i think it kind of supports the idea of codependency which isn’t great but i could be reaching. second, carmy isn’t really equipped to take care of anyone and i think the way he interacts with his coworkers when he’s frustrated is proof of that.

don’t get me wrong, i thought this season was amazing television, christopher storer is a brilliant writer and director, joanna calo really should helm more episodes bc ice chips was actually a perfect episode, and ayo getting the opportunity to direct tina’s episode was so amazing and i really hope i see her name in more directorial projects in the near future. but i think we’re getting a little lost in the plot here and losing sight of what the heart of the show is. the literal restaurant. and logically some of the decisions made don’t exactly hold up and i would hate to see this show fumble.

it can’t be a coincidence that so much of the show’s marketing is tied to carmy and syd and i think efforts to trick the audience are actually making the show suffer. or the increasingly less subtle decisions in the editing in the few scenes of them together? are you really gonna gaslight a whole audience for the sake of a misdirect?

[idiopath-fic-smile]

i make no promises, like i genuinely don't have any real ideas for scenes after this one, but uh here is more Singin' in the Rain ot3, continuing from here. they're not even on the honeymoon boat yet! but for whatever it's worth, there are shenanigans.

Here was another thing Cosmo had failed to predict: Don was a nervous flier. 

Cosmo had been up in the air a handful of times; Archibald owned a small personal craft that he flew sometimes on the weekends. And sure, it was cold and noisy and there was no denying that watching the ground disappear below you could give a guy a bad case of the stomach lurches, but it was a thrill all the same. An adventure, he thought, burrowing deeper into the very warm wool coat he’d had the presence of mind to bring. Don was generally up for an adventure; he’d once ridden a motorcycle full speed off a high canyon and fallen ten stories into the water below, for nothing but a day’s wages and an approving nod from the director.

The airplane offered comfortable seats and tables and fashionable cold salads served by very calm stewardesses, but from the moment of liftoff, Don sat there like a man waiting for the electric chair. Now he was clutching the armrests so tightly, the knuckles stood out sharp and white against his normally very appealing hands. 

“We should have taken the train,” said Kathy.

“Nonsense,” Don gritted out. “I’m fine. This is all perfectly fine.”

Belted in on either side of him, Kathy and Cosmo exchanged a look. One of the benefits, thought Cosmo, to being the funny little friend and not the leading man was that you were allowed to admit when you were terrified, at least a little, at least if you could make it a joke.

“I’m so sorry, Don,” Kathy said. “I should have asked if you’ve been in one of these before. Even knowing we’re perfectly safe, a train would’ve been so much more comfortable.”

Don closed his eyes. “Really, Kathy,” he said, a little more sharply. “You don’t need to—” The plane dropped several feet, and he swallowed hard.

Cosmo considered the situation. The facts were these: Don Lockwood was too proud, and too enamored with his wife, to be willing to discuss such a weakness in front of her, and now if somebody didn’t act fast, the three of them were in for an awkward, unpleasant flight. Or rather, series of flights, since the plane was going to need to refuel a couple of times along the way.

There was nothing else for it; Cosmo would have to save the day.

He took in Don’s ashen complexion and Kathy’s guilty face, and then he said cheerfully,

“Y’know, Kathy, for what it’s worth, Don actually has been in one of these before.” When this failed to earn any real response from the man, Cosmo poked him in the cheek. “Haven’t you, Don?”

“What?” said Don distractedly, swatting the finger away. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

Don’s tense brow creased for a moment in irritation. “I think I’d remember—” he started.

“It was for one of those early stunting gigs,” said Cosmo. “A little biplane. They gave you goggles and an aviator hat and a brown leather jacket—” The incident stuck in Cosmo’s mind mostly because Don had looked very good in that jacket, but there were half a dozen reasons nobody needed to know that, “—and then they had you crash the plane through a barn.”

“Through a barn?” Kathy repeated, disbelieving, because apparently the fan magazines didn’t tell you everything after all.

“Into, not through,” said Don. “I didn’t come out the other side.” His fingers had relaxed ever so slightly on the poor armrests. “And that doesn’t count, that contraption never got off the ground, I only had to—”

“Into a barn?” Kathy interjected. “Why?”

Cosmo stuck a mock-pensive pose. “The things we do for art. And five dollars. And I think the producers let him keep the jacket.”

They had; Cosmo had suffered that autumn.

“Well, what about common sense,” said Kathy, “and human rights, and basic safety?”

“I said he had goggles on, didn’t I?” 

The truth was, back in those days, no matter how dangerous the feat, how seemingly impossible the stunt, Cosmo had never truly worried. It was Don, and Don could do anything. Except admit to his wife that he needed help, apparently.

“What about—about dignity,” she went on, and Cosmo snorted.

“I regret to inform you that Lady Dignity will not be making an appearance tonight.”

“Cosmo,” said Kathy, slowly, “Why in the world did you let Don do a thing like that?”

“Let?” Don and Cosmo said in unison, Don a little weakly but it was something.

“Don’t pin this on me, madam,” Cosmo added, “I am not my brother’s keeper.”

“Not my brother at all,” Don muttered, which stung a little, but Cosmo decided to let it slide in the face of how his plan was working.

“That’s hardly the worst thing we did for money,” Cosmo said instead. “Has Don told you much about our ignoble days on the road?”

Kathy shook her head, delighted. Don very discreetly kicked Cosmo in the shin. Things were looking up.

.

“So there we are,” said Cosmo, “performing in this tiny hamlet in Nebraska called, I kid you not, Oatmeal—”

“Oatmeal?” Kathy laughed.

Don had freed his fingers from the armrests entirely; he was now resting his entire face in his hands. He was no longer pallid as Nosferatu; in fact, he might have been blushing.

“It was Coyoteville,” Don volunteered without looking up.

“Pal, if you think I’d forget a place with a name like Oatmeal, Nebraska—”

“If you think I’d forget a place with a name like Coyoteville—”

“Coyoteville was in New Mexico!” said Cosmo. “Coyoteville was where we had to bunk with that ventriloquist, remember?” He watched as Don sat up and snuck a look at Kathy, who was clearly having a ball.

“The one who insisted his dummy got its own bed?” Don said with a slight smile.

“Don and me had to sleep on a twin mattress on the floor,” said Cosmo, “Curled up like a pair of puppies, if you can picture that—”

“I think so,” said Kathy, leaning forward, eyes bright, “only what happened in Oatmeal?”

“Wait, was Oatmeal where—” Don started.

“Yes! We’re about halfway through our routine, singing and hoofing our hearts out—fit as a fiddle and ready for love—when we look off to the side, at the next act waiting in the wings and we see—”

Don laughed. “You’re right, we were onstage when we realized it!”

“—at more or less the same time, I think—”

“Yes?” said Kathy.

“—the Amazing Dancing Daisy, the headliner following us—”

“Nobody had bothered to explain to us that she was a trained donkey,” Cosmo explained. “We were literally opening for an ass.”

“How was she?” Kathy managed, once she had more or less gotten her wild laughter under control. “The dancing, I mean?”

“Her footwork was a little sloppy,” said Don.

“Don’s just cross,” said Cosmo confidingly, “because she got much more applause than us.”

“They kept throwing her flowers!” said Don. “What was she meant to do with them? She didn’t even have hands!”

“So listen, Kathy.” Cosmo leaned way over Don to make eye contact with her. “The next time you two are having some sort of petty domestic squabble, if Don tries to act all high and mighty, just remember: I’m pretty sure your lawfully wedded husband is still, deep down, jealous of a donkey.”

Don grabbed Cosmo’s shoulder and flashed him a mock-scowl. “Why, when we get back on solid land…”

“I’m not afraid of you, villain,” said Cosmo, “not with your lady love here.” He stretched out an arm to Kathy. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Of course, good sir,” said Kathy, genteelly taking his hand and it was a joke, it was ridiculous, it was all completely harmless because Cosmo was hardly a threat to their marriage, and so Cosmo ducked his head and fluttered his lashes at her, and cooed,

“How shall I ever repay you?”

And then, without breaking eye contact, Kathy brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it, just a quick, warm, press of lips, entirely chaste but somehow something different, and Cosmo darted a nervous glance at up Don—he was practically in Don’s lap at this point, to better reach out to Don’s wife—because threat or not, there had to be some kind of line Cosmo was crossing. But Don was just watching them, with parted lips and slightly glazed eyes, as if it was not at all upsetting to see his girl and his best friend doing…whatever it was they were doing, and this moment was rapidly sliding away from any point of reference Cosmo might’ve had. 

Normally, Cosmo liked other people’s eyes on him. That was half the reason anyone was in showbiz, wasn’t it? Nobody might’ve looked at him twice in the street but with the right props and a couple of dance moves, he could be somebody for the length of a number or two, spread a little joy and get a lot of it back. So it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Don looking at him and Kathy like that. It was just—it was too much, too close to something he might’ve dreamed up alone in his bed at night. He hadn’t, but that was mostly because he’d lacked the imagination.

Cosmo freed himself, twisted back upright, and coughed. “On second thought,” he said. “I think the ventriloquist was in Dead Man’s Fang, in Arizona? Coyoteville was where that strongman threw up inside Don’s fiddle.”

“How did he manage to—” Kathy sounded sincerely perplexed. She’d left a coral pink lip print on the back of Cosmo’s hand. He tugged his coat sleeves down to his fingertips.

“Sheer determination,” said Cosmo.

[kirikiss]

Nightmare on Sesame Street!

prohero! bakugo It was no shock when Bakugo became one of the top heroes after high school. He was a powerhouse, and anyone could see he had a real shot at becoming #1. But being the best hero isn’t just about strength—popularity plays a big role too. So, it wasn’t surprising when his agency brought you on as his PR manager. Your job? To make sure people saw not just the fierce hero side of him, but also someone they could admire and root for. After all, with his temper, smoothing out those rough edges was going to be a challenge. not proofread...

tw: none!,

As you trudged down the hall, you could already hear the sound of Bakugo’s gauntlet tapping against his desk, the noise echoing from his office. Even though you were his PR manager, he had a knack for shooting down every opportunity you brought him. First, you pitched the idea of him having his own cereal. “Kids shouldn’t eat that crap,” he snapped. Then you suggested a hairspray ad. “Hell no. You couldn’t recreate this even if you had a blueprint,” he scoffed, gesturing at his hair. Every idea, every proposal, was an immediate no.

It was clear Bakugo had zero patience for PR stunts—he thought they were stupid, plain and simple. So, as you prepared to pitch him on a new opportunity to guest star on the Sesame Street Halloween Special, you could already see the scowl forming on his face. The tapping of his gauntlet stopped.

"Are you dumb?" he growled. "A hero isn’t an entertainer. We’re here to save people. Stop asking me to do dumb shit like this."

The office was silent as you began to walk out, only hearing the click of your shoes as you headed for the door. This was bad. If you couldn’t get him on board with these opportunities, his agency would fire you for sure. 

While Sesame Street was a kids' show, it would help soften Bakugo’s image and make him more family-friendly—something crucial for climbing the popularity polls. But since he seemed allergic to saying yes to anything, you started to devise a plan.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a chilly, spooky, day, with leaves drifting in and out of the streets, carried by the wind. It was October 31st, and the town was soon to be filled with children in costume. You were on your way to the film studio, minus the explosive hero, who was stuck at the office buried in paperwork. As you fought against the wind, you quickly checked your phone. I really hope this works, you thought, having stayed up all night brainstorming any possible way to get him to say yes. The harsh reality was that he probably wouldn’t.

But there was one last idea you had in mind. As you reached the studio, you took a deep breath, thinking, I really hope he doesn’t kill me. You opened the door, and the director greeted you with a smile. “Hi, Y/N! Nice to finally put a face to the name! The live taping will be starting shortly. Where’s Dynamight?” he asked, glancing around.

“He should be here soon, but if you could just excuse me for a second,” you said with a nervous laugh. Stepping outside, you dialed his number, clearing your throat as you prepared for the act of your life.

“Yeah, what is—” Bakugo started.

“BAKUGO, HELP ME! A VILLAIN IS ATTACKING! I’LL SEND YOU THE ADDRESS!” you shouted in a fake worried tone, then quickly hung up praying it would work. You sent the address as you stepped back inside and crossed your fingers.

The director approached you, looking a bit anxious. “He has three minutes until the show starts. There’s a one-minute Oscar the Grouch act before his interview with Elmo. Do you think he could make it?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m sure of it,” you lied through your teeth, hoping your gamble would pay off

Elmo walked onto the screen, and as if on cue, you heard a loud crash. The door flew open, and Bakugo stormed in. “WHERE IS THIS FOOL?” he barked, taking in his surroundings before locking eyes with Elmo. “Wow, our guest for today has an explosive entrance,” Elmo chimed cheerfully. Bakugo shot a glance at you, then back at Elmo. He realized he’d been tricked, and there was no backing out now.

“Elmo is very excited to welcome Bakugo!” Elmo continued, his voice unwavering. Bakugo slowly walked toward him, clearly unimpressed.

“Welcome to Elmo's live talk show! Elmo is just gonna ask you a few questions!” Elmo announced.

“Alright,” Bakugo scoffed, already annoyed at the oversized teddy bear in front of him.

“If you had to pick a favorite color, would it be red like Elmo, or would you choose something like… ‘explosive orange’?” Elmo asked, chuckling at his own joke.

Bakugo's face shifted to his default scowl. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered, realizing this was live. He was making an effort to be somewhat kid-friendly.

“Okay! Elmo has another question! Today is Halloween. Elmo loves trick-or-treating! What are you planning to be for Halloween this year?”

“Well, Elmo,” Bakugo replied in a mocking tone, “I’m going to be patrolling later, so there’s no dress-up this year.” You sighed in relief, relieved to see he was trying to keep it together.

“Okay! Elmo has a few more questions. Elmo heard that some heroes take their costumes off at the end of the day! Do you ever take your grumpy face off, or is that just for show?” Elmo asked, clearly testing his patience, and it was wearing thin

You could see Bakugo’s irritation brewing. His fist clenched, suppressing the urge to turn Elmo into a pile of red fur. “Yeah, Elmo, I take it off when I’m not around annoying stuffed animals.” he retorted

He’s really pushing his limits now. 

Bakugo managed to keep his cool through most of the questions, but the last one pushed him over the edge. “Hey, Bakugo! Elmo was wondering... Do you think maybe you’d be a better hero if you smiled more? Elmo thinks smiles make everything better!”

Bakugo’s eye twitched, and you could see this was the breaking point.

“THAT’S IT!” he shouted, jumping out of his seat. “BAKUGO WILL SMILE WHEN HE BLOWS UP THIS SET! HOW ABOUT THAT, ELMO?” he yelled, mocking Elmo’s voice. Fiery sparks began crackling in his palm.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU DAMN PUPPET!” Bakugo growled as he aimed one of his grenades at Elmo. In a fit of rage, he let loose, and Elmo was suddenly engulfed in an explosion of red fur and smoke. Most of the staff stood there shocked while the others handled turning off the live footage. The cameras immediately panned to the ground as Bakugo turned around to take his leave. 

After apologizing profusely to the staff—and mourning what was left of the Elmo puppet—you headed outside to try and catch him. But he was already gone, leaving you no choice but to send a slightly irritated text.

Y/N: Are you serious right now? Why on earth would you do that? This is going to be a nightmare to clean up. You’d better get back to the agency ASAP so we can work out some kind of apology.

Read 4:18 PM

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bakugo decided to start his patrol early, hoping to get some peace and quiet before the evening rush. But as soon as he hit the streets, he noticed they were already flooding with kids decked out in costumes. Some wore miniature hero getups—his own included—while others sported characters from whatever kids' shows were trending these days. Though he’d never admit it, Bakugo couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them laughing and running around.

His momentary calmness shattered, however, when something out in the distance made his blood run cold. A tuft of red fur peeked out from behind a lamppost, and slowly, menacingly, a kid in an Elmo costume emerged. Bakugo’s eyes went wide as the bright red, wide-grinning creature came closer, waving in slow motion, its vacant stare drilling into his soul. He took a step back, heart pounding.

“Not…again,” he muttered, half to himself.

Of all the villains he’d faced, of all the foes he’d defeated, somehow, this puppet was the one that struck true fear.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

taglist: @sofiascripts

a/n: Sorry for not posting, im in school and its midterm season :/. Thought I should put this out, I promised myself I would put out a funny bakugou fic before Halloween , so please enjoy!!!!

[scary-grace]

Off-Script - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is my second fic for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, with the prompt 'summer blockbuster'! As usual, thank you for running this event and congratulations on the milestone!

Act 1 Act 2

Act 1

“No.”

“No?” Midoriya Izuku repeats. He taps his headset, like there’s something wrong with it instead of what Dabi just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t do swordfighting,” Dabi says. “It’s in my contract.”

Midoriya looks baffled, just like every newbie director who’s ever hit their head against one of the batshit provisions in Dabi’s contracts. And Dabi’s not anywhere close to done with kicking the director around. “How come I’ve got a sword, anyway? Quicksilver didn’t have one in any of the other movies. Or the comics.”

In Tomura’s opinion, Dabi should keep his mouth shut about what happens in the X-Men comics. Everything he knows about the comics and the character he plays is something Tomura had to explain to him way too many times, in detail. “We’re rebooting the Apocalypse arc,” Midoriya says. “The premise is that Apocalypse rises in every age – long enough for people to forget about him in between – and the same characters have been fighting him the whole time, reincarnated over and over again. Only this time it’s different, because four of those characters have been chosen as Horsemen, and they’re fighting for Apocalypse, not against him.”

“Great. Why is there a swordfight?”

“In the original arc, technology provided a boost to the anti-Apocalypse forces,” Midoriya says. “By setting it in the Iron Age, we’re taking that advantage away. That’s why everyone has weapons. Including Quicksilver.”

“Cool.” Dabi lights up a cigarette. “I’m still not doing it.”

“But –”

“That’s what I pay him for.” Dabi jerks a thumb at Tomura. “Talk to him.”

Tomura’s been Dabi’s stunt double for basically all of Dabi’s career. Most stunt doubles stick to stunts, but over the years, Tomura’s role has expanded from stunts to include anything Dabi doesn’t feel like doing. Swordfighting isn’t a stunt. It should be well within Dabi’s skills. And it is – he just doesn’t want to do it. Which means that Tomura’s up.

Midoriya looks at Tomura hopefully. Tomura levers himself up off the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Midoriya follows him to costume and makeup, yapping the whole way, trying to figure out what he did to upset Dabi so much. Tomura thinks about explaining that it’s not Midoriya’s problem and Dabi’s just like that, then decides against it. Midoriya’s the one who decided not to recast Quicksilver, and Dabi isn’t exactly known for being easy to work with. He made his own bed. Tomura’s not here to tuck him in, and he’s not here to make excuses for Dabi. He’s here to do stunts. That’s it.

Quicksilver’s costume isn’t skintight, which makes it miles better than any of the other Quicksilver suits Tomura’s had to wear since Dabi was first cast in the franchise. It’s his first time in the outfit, so he asks the costumer about it. “There was no Lycra in the Iron Age,” Magne explains as she stitches one last panel into place. “The director wanted historically accurate materials. And the SFX team threatened to quit if they had to edit any more bulges out of the shots.”

That’s a relief. Whenever a new movie in the franchise comes out, the fan blogs make lists ranking all the bulges, which is awkward at best and career-threatening at worst, given the one time a list used a shot where Tomura was doubling Dabi and ranked it higher than Dabi had ever placed on his own. Midoriya is deeply weird, even as far as directors go, but Tomura will take the wins where he can get them.

He tunes back in to what Midoriya’s saying as Magne screws around with his hair to mimic Quicksilver’s signature look. “Who am I fighting again?”

“Psylocke. You read the script, right?”

Sure, Tomura read the script. The script isn’t the problem so much as the fact that the actress playing Psylocke quit last week. “Did you find a new one?”

“Of course!” Midoriya brightens up creepily fast. “Right, you should meet her! She’s – um –”

“Up at the site already,” Magne says, spraying Tomura with hairspray without warning him first. “She was pretty quick to costume. I didn’t even have to put her in a wig.”

Midoriya beams. “She’s great,” he says. “We’re lucky we found her on such short notice.”

“Who is she?”

Midoriya says a name Tomura’s never heard in his life. Magne hasn’t heard it, either. “Come again?”

“She’s on the newer side,” Midoriya says. His smile’s looking a little insane. “Are you ready yet?”

“Just a sec.” Magne sprays Tomura again, then attaches three motion-capture dots to his forehead. “There we go. All set.”

Tomura stands up, but he doesn’t get clear fast enough to avoid Magne’s customary ass-slap. “Break a leg,” she says.

“Thanks.” Tomura slinks out of the costume tent, already in a mood.

They drive to the site in one of the various beat-to-shit Jeeps Midoriya inherited from the person who directed the last X-Men movie. Midoriya drives, which is bad all on its own, but halfway there, Tomura realizes there’s someone missing. “Don’t we need Aizawa on this?”

“Aizawa’s choreographing the first big fight scene. Most of the actors haven’t done real swordfighting before, so it’s taking a while.” Midoriya’s grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled in a way that makes Tomura wonder if he should be bailing out of the car. He’s pretty sure he can do it without getting a single bruise. “Even if it’s just for a few tracking shots before we cut away to you – sorry, Dabi – chasing Psylocke, it needs to look good.”

That’s fair. Tomura hates a lazy background shot, on the rare occasions when he watches a movie. Midoriya glances at him. “I know you said you read the script, but – give me your take on what’s going on in the scene.”

Tomura’s heard Midoriya ask people that before. Correction: He’s heard him ask actors before. “I’m not an actor.”

“There’s not a ton of dialogue in this scene. The physical aspect has to tell the story,” Midoriya says. “So?”

He’s not going to let this go. Tomura decides to get it over with. “During the main fight, Psylocke lifts the artifact everybody’s fighting over and runs. Quicksilver goes to catch her, but she uses her mutation to slow down time around him, which puts him on the same playing field as she is. They fight, he pulls her mask off, and figures out she used to be on his side. Then she cheap-shots him and escapes with half the artifact. Did I get it?”

Midoriya nods, but he’s frowning. “Quicksilver and Psylocke are foil characters in this interpretation of the story. He’s Magneto’s son and she’s part of a family of heroes. When they recognize each other, it should be a shock – they’re not just seeing a friend who’s now an enemy, they’re each seeing the person they should have been. So the back half of the fight should, like, reflect that.”

Tomura doesn’t do emotional turmoil. “You want Dabi for this.”

“That was the plan,” Midoriya says. He sighs. “Just – do your best, okay?”

Tomura was doing high-wire stunts while Midoriya was still in high school. He doesn’t need hyping up for a swordfight he can do in his sleep. But just because he can do it in his sleep doesn’t mean the actress Midoriya pulled out of a cattle call will be any good at it. “Does Psylocke 2.0 know what she’s doing?”

“That’s why I picked her.”

Huh. Tomura crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat for the remainder of the ride.

The site is up on a bluff, in a stretch of forest thick enough that barely any sunlight gets through. “This is supposed to be a nighttime scene, but thanks to the tree cover we can fake it,” Midoriya explains as he parks the Jeep and scrambles out. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

The crew looks like they’ve been waiting a while. Tomura knows most of them after spending the last seven years on the sets of various X-Men movies and hanging out at C-list afterparties. Of the group, he really only gets along with Spinner, who handles props. Everybody else is just someone else to be irritated with when they inevitably start bossing Tomura around. He props his feet on the dashboard and waits for something to happen.

“Psylocke! Quicksilver! Over here!”

Midoriya’s beckoning to him. Tomura forgot about Midoriya’s habit of using character names during shoots, and he thought Dabi was just using it as something to bitch about until right now. It’s annoying as hell. Tomura gets out of the car and skulks over, but someone else gets there first. Midoriya’s talking to her as Tomura approaches. “I know the script says you’re shooting with Dabi, but he, um, doesn’t do swordfights, so he sent his stunt double instead.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you,” Midoriya says hurriedly. “He’s just having an off day.”

“An off year,” Tomura corrects. Midoriya jumps, steps aside, and gives Tomura his first look at you.

He sees right away what Magne meant about your hair – you match Psylocke’s design from the comments in length and color, even if the texture’s wrong. You’re a little shorter than the original actress, and you don’t look like an actress, even though the makeup artists already got to you. Actresses in big-budget films look a lot like each other, because they’re all wearing the same makeup and getting the same plastic surgeries, and they’re all the same kind of hot. You look way too much like a person. Like you should be behind the camera, not in front of it.

As Tomura sizes you up, he’s well aware that you’re doing the same thing to him, probably having the same thoughts. But you smile and hold out your hand to shake. “Hi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Tomura shakes your hand for lack of anything better to do. “Go see Spinner for props,” Midoriya instructs, “and think about how you want to do this. Maybe get in character also? I’m not sure how many takes we’ll get before the light changes.”

“Got it,” you say. “Spinner is –”

“The guy with the swords,” Tomura says. It’s hard not to roll his eyes, and it gets harder when you fall into step beside him. Spinner is waiting for you both behind the props table. “Hey.”

“I was expecting Dabi,” Spinner says, picking up a sword. When Tomura reaches for it, Spinner chucks it to one side and lifts another. “I was gonna give him that one, but you’re better than he is, so I can trust you with this.”

Instead of the kodachi, he’s holding out a tachi to Tomura. “See how you like the balance on that. And for you, Psylocke – one katana, coming right up.”

Tomura keeps one eye on you and your sword while he’s testing the balance on his. You’re not being stupid with it, at least not yet. Holding it properly is the lowest possible bar, but Tomura’s met plenty of actors who can’t even manage that, and at least your grip looks solid. You walk a few steps away to practice sheathing and unsheathing it, and Spinner elbows Tomura. He nods in your direction. “What do you think?”

“What rock did Midoriya find her under?”

“I think she’s a stage actor,” Spinners says. Great. “Mainly musicals. She’s never gotten cast as anything bigger than an understudy.”

Tomura would facepalm, except he’s holding a sword. “Still,” Spinner says speculatively, “the director’s not a total moron. He must have seen something he likes.”

“Yeah. He likes not having to blow the costume budget on a wig,” Tomura says, probably a little too loudly. He sees your shoulders stiffen, and you turn to face him. You don’t look like you’re going to cry or anything, but Tomura’s been wrong about that before. “What?”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to practice, or if we’re doing it blind,” you say. Before Tomura can answer, you make the decision. “I say blind. It’ll look more authentic if we’ve never fought each other before.”

Tomura likes that idea, if only because the chaos will mask his total lack of acting skills, but he was counting on a practice round to test your actual abilities. Still, it’s your funeral. “Fine by me. I’m not going to go easy on you or anything.”

“I’m glad,” you say, and smile. Tomura already saw you smile once, but it was nowhere close to being this spooky. You have to be doing it on purpose. “I wasn’t planning to go easy on you, either.”

Tomura should say something – maybe along the lines of ‘we just got off on the wrong foot, don’t cut my fucking head off’ – but before he can, Midoriya orders everyone to places. He must have given you instructions ahead of time, because you vanish into the trees, leaving Tomura to follow Midoriya’s hyperspecific directions for hitting his first mark. “We’re just going to roll,” he says, as Tomura steps out of frame and braces himself to run. “I’ll call cut once things go sideways.”

Things go sideways in choreographed fight scenes all the time. Things going sideways in an improvised fight is a guarantee. “Right.”

“Psylocke, are you set?”

“Set,” you call out from somewhere.

Midoriya takes a deep breath, like he’s the one who’s about to start a fake fight. “Okay. Action!”

Fake-running and skidding to a stop isn’t Tomura’s specialty or anything, but he can make it work. He hits the mark Midoriya specified, raises his hand to the hilt of his sword without drawing it, and takes a look around. Right here and now, there’s no reason for Quicksilver to think that someone’s about to attack him. Even Psylocke using her powers to slow him down could just be a tactic to ensure her escape. She’s basically already escaped. All Quicksilver has to do is wait for her grip on time to slacken, and then –

A twig snaps behind Tomura and he throws himself forward into a roll, pivoting as he gets to his knees and drawing his sword in the same moment. You put a lot of strength and a lot of momentum into your first strike, and if this was a real fight, Tomura would be injured or dead. As it is, you checked yourself at the last second, and you take your time settling into your next attack, giving Tomura just a second or two to plan out his own.

No attack yet. His wingspan is wider than yours and the blade of his sword is longer, which means the first step for Quicksilver to avoid a katana through the neck is to get out of Psylocke’s range. You’re not screwing around, so Tomura won’t, either – he picks up a handful of leaf litter, throws it into your face, and gets to a safe distance, remembering at the last second to make it look even sort of stylized. It’s a movie, after all.

You’re taking it seriously. The suddenness of your first attack has Tomura on edge, and the lack of any direction or choreography means he’s got no idea what you’re going to do. They won’t be in the back half of the fight until he pulls your mask down, and haphazard grabs look stupid on camera. He needs to get your mask on the first try, and between now and then, he needs to put on a show.

Tomura strikes at you, and you duck, pivot, halfway inside his guard before he can reverse the strike. But you’re in too close to use your katana effectively – on purpose – and Tomura aims a punch at your torso, hoping you know how to fake a hit. You do. You exhale sharply, jerk backwards, and Tomura separates from you again.

Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Why are you going this hard? It occurs to Tomura as he parries your counterstrike and returns a few of his own that these are the same thoughts Quicksilver would be having if any of this was real. Now that Tomura’s introduced hand-to-hand combat into the equation, you start using it, too, throwing a high kick that brushes ever so slightly against Tomura’s jaw. Tomura snaps his head sideways to make it look good, then lurches backwards in response to a fake punch to the solar plexus. He’s holding his own, and he’s in control of the fight, but to the camera and everybody else it’s going to look like Psylocke is handing Quicksilver his ass.

And you should be. Tomura underestimated you, then insulted you, and now you’re making him pay. But as interesting as the fight’s getting, it’s a movie, not a grudge match. Tomura shortens his attacks and you step in closer, close enough for him to grab your mask. Or it would be, if your face was where it’s supposed to be. Instead you’ve gotten all the way inside Tomura’s guard, stepped across him, and grabbed his shoulder with your free hand – and now you’re throwing him over your hip to the ground.

You’ve got the physical strength to pull it off – Tomura can feel it – but he gives you some help anyway, making the resulting fall look even harder than it’s supposed to. He lands flat on his back with you poised above him, pinning him down with your katana at the ready. Now would be a great time to grab the artifact, since it’s hanging on a loop around your neck, but Tomura’s got his orders, as stupid as they are. He reaches up, seizes the mask over your mouth and nose, and pulls it down.

You really can act. Tomura watches your expression shift from startled to shocked to something else, and you recoil backwards away from him. Tomura’s slow to rise, because Quicksilver’s supposed to be shocked, too. Dabi’s going to have to deal with whatever character choices Tomura’s making here, and he’s going to be pissed. Tomura doesn’t care. If Dabi wanted to have a say over what this fight looks like, he should have done it himself.

You’re pulling your mask over your face, pressing it down. You’re so busy with it that Tomura almost gets away clean with grabbing the artifact from around your neck. You catch him at the last minute and pull it back, and it splits cleanly between his hand and yours. You take one artfully reckless swing with your katana and Tomura ducks back just a little farther than he needs to. Which is when you turn and run, booking it out of frame and towards the far edge of the woods.

Some camera guy – Iida, Tomura thinks – chases after you. Tomura’s off the hook, but he holds still anyway. He’s gotten yelled at more than a few times for moving before the director’s officially called cut. But Midoriya isn’t calling cut. He keeps not calling it. Tomura can hear him, though. He’s muttering to himself.

“Hey, boss-man!” hollers the unit director – Togata, or something. “Want to call a cut?”

“Oh, oops! Cut! Definitely cut.” Midoriya sounds like he couldn’t give less of a shit. When Tomura turns to look at him, he’s got a notebook and he’s writing furiously. And mumbling again. Tomura’s worked with a lot of directors and more than a few weird ones, and once he rules out the hand fetishist and the guy who wanted the fight scenes to include real knives and real blood, Midoriya’s definitely the weirdest.

You come back from wherever you ran off to, and you don’t seem to think Midoriya’s as weird as everyone else does. “Are we waiting for notes?”

“Huh?”

“After we run a scene in a stage show, we get notes,” you say. You’re not quite breathing hard. Neither is Tomura. “Do you not do that around here?”

“Nah,” Togata or whoever says. “Usually the director just hollers at whoever screws up and makes everybody do another take.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Who screwed up? Was it me?”

“You certainly took some liberties with the scene,” Iida says. “The original intent –”

“You want original intent, don’t tell us to improv,” Tomura says. The fight with you was maybe the most intense fight scene he’s ever done. When Midoriya inevitably nixes it, Tomura wants a copy. He addresses you. “It wasn’t you. Somebody on the sound side probably fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” The sound tech – maybe Jiro? – looks like she wants to club Tomura to death with a boom mic. “I fucked up? If you two hadn’t gotten all –”

“Midoriya,” Togata sings out, patting Midoriya on the shoulder. Midoriya jumps. “Hey! Good to have you back! Should we get set for another take?”

“No.”

Mirio looks confused. He’s not the only one. “Are we taking this one back to the drawing board?”

“No.” Midoriya shuts his notebook and looks up, his eyes shining in the crazy way movie people get when they have a really wild idea. “That was the take. We’re done.”

“What?”

“That was it.” Midoriya’s grinning. “It was perfect.”

Now you look weirded out. Finally. “No notes?”

“We need some close-ups, but –” Midoriya grabs his radio and hollers for somebody to put Dabi in his costume “ – you guys did a great job. Like, even the timing – it’s going to be so easy to use those beats for close-ups, and all the character stuff – you were so in sync it was scary, but emotionally you were each totally on your own journey, and it looked –”

“Hey, take a breath. Don’t faint,” Jiro instructs. Midoriya sucks down some air, and Jiro turns to you. “You did your first fight scene in one take. Congrats.”

Spinner lifts the sword out of Tomura’s hand, then takes the two halves of the artifact from both of you. Tomura’s done here for now. He’ll hitch a ride back on the Jeep that brings Dabi up and find a place to nap. Hopefully. He feels a little too keyed up to take a break right now.

You’re still standing there, looking sort of dazed. It annoys Tomura for a second, until he remembers that you’re used to understudying in musicals, not shooting superhero movies. “Hey,” he says, and you startle. “That was a solid fight. You’re better than I thought.”

“That’s not hard,” you say. “All I had to do to be better than you thought I’d be was to not impale myself or anybody else.”

“I haven’t seen you work before today. Sue me,” Tomura says. “You know what you’re doing. That was a really good fight.”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. Fishing for compliments always does, and Tomura hates it – but instead of telling you to grow up, he tries to hit you over the head with it for real. “You might not know your head from your ass yet, but I do, and it was a good scene. I haven’t had a fight like that in –”

Years? A decade? Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever been in a fake fight that felt real without actually feeling unsafe. “That’s the best one I’ve done in a long time,” he says finally. “You’re a real actress now. That modesty shit isn’t cute.”

You shrug again and make your way over to where Midoriya and Iida are talking. You’re probably going to ask Midoriya if you did something wrong, and he’ll get weird and reshoot the whole thing. Or he won’t, and he’ll think you’re insecure, which drives most directors up the wall. The fight scene was good on the first take. That never happens. Excuse Tomura for wanting to enjoy it.

“Shigaraki,” Spinner says from behind Tomura, and Tomura looks at him. “That’s not how you talk to girls.”

“Huh?”

“You, like – negged her. A lot,” Spinner says. Bullshit. Tomura knows what negging is. He knows he wasn’t doing it. “You told her she sucks, and then you told her she doesn’t suck as much as you thought she did. And then you trashed her whole career before now –”

“When did I do that?” Tomura’s done with this. “I said she knew what she was doing.”

“Uh, yeah. She took you to the cleaners on camera,” Spinner says. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you looked really into it.”

What does he mean, into it? Tomura was doing his job. If he doesn’t get into it, he has to do extra takes. “So, like I said,” Spinner continues, “if you want to talk to girls and have it go anywhere, you have to give actual compliments. Not just tell her you’re surprised she wasn’t worse.”

“That’s not what I said,” Tomura growls. He doesn’t like anything about this conversation – not what Spinner’s implying, not what Spinner’s telling him to do. “Since when do you give me advice about girls?”

“Since I’ve gone on a date in the last six months,” Spinner says without blinking. “When was the last time you went out?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Dabi spent the last six months in rehab. You could have gotten out there,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “All you did was work out and play League.”

“That’s what I was busy doing,” Tomura says. “I don’t need lessons on talking to girls.”

“Sure,” Spinner says. “Give her a real compliment next time. It’ll help.”

It’ll help with what? Tomura doesn’t know what Spinner thought he saw, but whatever it is, it wasn’t there. Tomura doesn’t date actresses. Or actors, in spite of what a bunch of Dabi’s fans seem to think is going on between the two of them. And even if Tomura was going to date an actress, he wouldn’t date somebody like you – somebody new to all of this, somebody naïve, somebody whose confidence can barely survive a single hit. Maybe you’ll be the kind of actress Tomura would date if you make it through this shoot alive. The fact that no actress would ever date Tomura doesn’t matter at all.

Even if this is the only blockbuster you ever do, he’ll get to fight you at least one more time. There’s another fight scene between Quicksilver and Psylocke later on in the script. As Tomura leans against a tree waiting for his ride to show up while you talk way too earnestly to Midoriya, he finds that he’s already looking forward to it.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

It’s A Love Story…

Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy 2024) x Reader

-Part 2 to Coffees, Plural-

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story except for Sheila and the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: Background is summarized on part one! I tried to get Colt as in character as possible, but it’s hard to perfectly capture him 🙃 also, this is not edited!! idk if it’s cringe or cute, but if you enjoy the story, please leave a comment! I’d love to see what you think! Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s the best!

Content/Content Warning: nothing serious! Just some suggestive themes and some smooching at the end :)

Part three is out!

Reader’s POV

Looking back on it, I think my crush on Colt Seavers really did develop on day one. But little did I know, it’d only get stronger.

Dramatic, right? It’s not wrong, though…

After bonding over his affinity for coffees,- yes, plural- that first day, I knew I was down bad. At first I thought it was just stupid butterflies- I was prone to falling fast- but as I got to know him I realized it was far more than just stupid butterflies.

There was just something about him- a lot of somethings, actually. It was- it is- his puppy eyes. His coffee addiction- affinity, sorry. His sense of humor, the way he comes preloaded with sarcasm at any given time. The way his legs bounces when he’s nervous, bored, excited, or all three. His perfect smile. The way he pays attention, the way he cares…

I could go on. And on. And on. And on. But you get the idea.

And oh, that voice… that’s enough to-

Sorry. Anyways.

Over the past nine-ish months we’ve gotten pretty close. I’ll meet him for lunch on set, we’ll meet at each other’s trailers just to hang out, sometimes we’ll find ourselves down by the beach… it’s just nice.

Also, over the past year, I’ve rekindled my friendship with Jody Moreno. We hit it off immediately after I arrived, as if no time had passed at all since the last time I saw her. We’re close again, just like we were back in college, which is also really nice.

She knows full well about my little (big) crush on Colt. I didn’t even have to tell her, she just burst into my trailer one day a couple months ago, accusing me by exclaiming “You like Colt!”

She’s lucky I love her so much, because otherwise her incessant teasing and blatant attempts at setting us up would be just a little annoying.

Today I was on set, watching Colt get thrown around while being on fire. I couldn’t help the way my heart tossed and turned with worry while watching him do his stunts- yes, he’s a professional but that doesn’t mean these crazy stunts scare me any less. He teases me about my worrying, but I can see the way that sometimes the thumbs up he’ll send the director’s way isn’t genuine.

By the fifth take on this stunt I could tell he was beginning to grow weary. Thankfully the stunt coordinator takes mercy on him and tells him to take five after the crew extinguishes him.

He gets up and looks around before setting his eyes on me. My face grows warm as I watched his face light up when he recognized me.

“Heya stud,” I say by way of greeting when he approached me. “How you feeling?”

“Never better,” he responds with a trademark thumbs up.

“You know that that’s still cheesy, right?” I ask. He gives me the thumbs up pretty much anytime I ask him how he’s feeling, and I tease him about it every time.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he shrugs playfully. I swear, he purposely lowers his voice sometimes. Not that I’m complaining, it’s definitely not unattractive…

“Maybe a little,” I concede with a small smile. “Anyway, I brought you some brownies for lunch,” I said, taking a brown paper bag out of my satchel. “They’re from that bakery we tried a couple weeks ago.”

“Aww, [nickname], you shouldn’t have!”

“Oh don’t you worry about me, I ate like three for breakfast,” I say sheepishly. They really are that good, the baker must be putting crack in them with how addictive they are.

“So you’re telling me I can’t offer to split one with you on the beach?” he asks, bringing out the puppy eyes- at least, more so than usual given that he always has puppy eyes.

“Now how can I say no to that offer?”

“You can’t,” he says with a cheeky smile as he starts walking back to set, noticing the stunt coordinator waving him over.

I wave goodbye to him, and then sneak over to the directors chair to say hi to Jody.

“Aw, look at this blush!” she greets when I meet her, pinching my cheeks. “A certain stuntman got your panties in a twist?”

“Why do I subject myself to you?” I groan.

“Because you love me.” She’s not wrong.

“How’s the scene coming along?”

“Perfectly, I’m just torturing your boyfriend until he agrees to go to karaoke with the rest of us tonight. I think he’s still embarrassed from last time,” she laughs.

Last time he drunkenly sang that Love Story song by Taylor swift and was straight up bawling midway. Everyone laughed and has a recording of it, and holds it over his head.

“You’re pure evil, Jody Moreno, and I very much aspire to be you,” I say, watching Colt get flung into the rock again.

“It’s an art, what can I say,” she shrugs, before grabbing her megaphone.

“Oi, stuntman!” Colt sends over a thumbs up before she can continue her sentence. “I feel like we can salvage that last take…” she smirks.

He groans, out loud. And even from like 25 feet away, I can hear it. And I don’t like how hot I find it.

“All I need is a double thumbs up,” she chides. The rest of the crew is also turned his way, with a lot of snickering coming from our little peanut gallery.

He meets my gaze and I mouth “please” with as much puppy eyes as I can, hoping that he can read my face from where he’s at. He scowls in a comical way, closes his eyes, face dramatically tilted toward the sky before finally looking back at us- at me- with two thumbs up.

“Perfect, that’s a wrap!” Jody exclaims, cackling maniacally after she’s turned off the megaphone. “See you at nine, Seavers!”

He gives a little sarcastic wave, but a smile takes over his face as he meets my gaze again, and I can’t help the way my heart skips a beat when I send a coy wave his way.

***

Colt’s POV

You know that feeling, when your heart starts pumping and you start smiling all stupid, when you’re telling yourself that you’re a dipshit but it’s because she’s just too perfect?

Yeah. That’s y/n to me. Anytime I’m near her I have to remind myself to breathe. It’s like the movies, like some sort of rom com that she loves so much, except better. So much better, if you ask me.

Honestly, I’ve had a crush on her since the beginning. Man, I just used the word crush. For some reason I can hear that dipshit Tom Ryder’s asshole voice in my head, calling me a “pussy bitch”- a personal favorite “original” term of his- for using the word. But I don’t care, because how else do you describe… butterflies.

You know what it is? It feels like a Taylor Swift song. Like a Love Story, if you will. And baby, I just want her to say yes.

I think I need help.

I still remember how flustered she got when I accidentally scared her when I met her that first day.

We had both been running late, me more so than her due to coffee(s- yes, plural) related reasons- it’s an affinity, not an addiction.

I had went to say hi while she was in the middle of doing her own makeup, I think she got bored waiting for me, and she jumped like six inches, and accidentally dragged her makeup brush down the side of her face.

I felt so bad, the look was gorgeous, very northern lights- esque with greens and blues and purples- but at the same time, I was too stunned to speak. Y/n is gorgeous, as it turns out, with or without makeup, and even with a steak of yellow going down her face that would make anyone else look like they had a jaundiced scar.

Thankfully, I still don’t think she noticed my dumbfounded disposition as she ran to the sink.

But the thing is, she’s not just drop dead gorgeous. She’s also the sweetest, cutest woman in the entire world. Her sense of humor- the self deprecations, the sarcasm which perfectly matches mine… how flustered she gets when I’m driving her around, the way she gets cold and smuggles into my side when we sit in the trunk after a night swim, shivering but still trying to talk with her teeth chattering. The way her hand’s so small compared to mine… you get it.

Also, the fact that she doesn’t make fun of me for being a Swiftie.

At least not as much as the others do.

Which frankly, isn’t saying much, now that I think about it.

Anyhow, even after being thrown against a rock four times I’m still not ready to wave the white flag at Jody. I told myself I would never step foot in the karaoke bar again, not after last time…

Sorry, I just got war flashbacks.

<Author’s Note: these war flashbacks sound a lot like Love Story by Taylor Swift>

But then of course, she just had to be on set. She’s got me wrapped around her little fingers, bringing me brownies and calling me a stud. The last straw was the puppy dog eyes from across the set- I have no idea how she hasn’t figured out the effect she has on me. Or maybe she has, and is just an evil genius. I don’t really know.

Not that I need to know, because if the words “Swan dive off of a bridge” fell from her perfect lips I’d probably do it.

Looks like I’m going back to karaoke…

***

Reader’s POV

“Come on, y/n! We’re gonna be late!” Jody yells as she raps her knuckles on the door of my trailer.

“I’m not coming out! I look ridiculous!” I yell back. I had let her pick out my outfit, and she picked out a short black romper with a tight bodice and flowers printed on it. I don’t think it suits me very well, and I’m seconds away from wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I don’t feel like doing my makeup, so that’s one less thing to worry about, at least.

Wait, why is it so quiet now? Where did she go?

“Y/n, this is your last chance,” she warns, apparently having took a quick break from peer pressuring me into coming outside.

“I’m. Not. Coming. Out.”

“Fine,” and for some reason, I can hear the smile in her voice. That’s never good.

“Y/n?” a new, softer, lower, more gravelly voice comes from outside my cabin. For fuck’s sake.

“Colt?” I ask, rubbing my temple.

“Yeah. Can you please let me in?” he asks so sweetly, it would be impossible to say no.

I mentally punch myself before unlocking the door to my trailer, and of course, to no one’s surprise, he looks perfect. Jody must’ve scampered off, because now it’s just me and him. He’s wearing a white tank top underneath a completely unbuttoned black short sleeved button down, black slacks and white shoes. His usual necklace, the gold chain with the small medallion, accompanies the look. His hair is tousled, and I don’t even think I have to mention how pretty his face is- that part’s a given.

“I, um, you-,” he stutters, and then stops to compose himself. “You look beautiful.”

My breath hitches in my throat. The thing about Colt is that if his words aren’t sarcastic- and you can tell when they are- they’re so, so genuine. And he just called me beautiful.

“I- thanks- so do you-“

Did I really just say so do you? By the smile creeping on his face I think I did.

“I’m sorry, I’m being awkward,” I say with an awkward laugh, proving my point. “But you look really handsome.”

“Aw shucks,” he says, his words slightly sarcastic but the blush on his face very real. “Now cmon, we don’t want to be late?”

“But this romper looks so stupid,” I say, drawing out the last word. And you look so stupidly attractive, I think. What if I just kiss him? What’s stopping me from telling him how I feel about him?

“Permission to touch you?” he asks, ignoring my comment.

To… touch me? Fuck, I’ve read far too many romance books. His stupid voice can turn anything into a double entendre, I swear it.

He raises a brow when I don’t answer.

“Uh, sure?” I don’t really know what he’s up to.

“Great,” he smirks, and before I can realize what he’s done he has me slung over his shoulder, like I weigh nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He shuts my trailer behind him as I hit his back, telling me to let me down, but the bastard just starts humming “Livin’ On A Prayer,” by Bon Jovi.

“Asshole! Put me down!” I yelp, but he just holds me steady by my legs as I flail behind him. Curse his actually useful muscles.

Finally, he sets me down in front of his truck, reaching out to steady me. My hands fall on his chest. His very well defined chest. Which perfectly matched his very well defined back.

Colt’s POV

My hand is on her hip, I tried to steady her. But shit. I wish I could just squeeze it, maybe while I’m…

Puppies dying at the end of a movie, Colt. Dead puppies.

We stay there a moment, in front of my truck. Everything in me wants to just tell her how I feel and press her into that truck with kisses that tell her I’m never letting her go. But now doesn’t feel like the right time. But when is? Why wasn’t it at her trailer?

And I just had her over my shoulder too…

Alright, come on, dipshit. Get it together.

But of course, her small hands are on my chest…

Focus.

“You’ve got two options,” I tell her, removing my hand from her hip and holding up a two to make a point. “We go to karaoke and I drive, or we go to karaoke and you drive.”

I can’t let her not go. She loves karaoke, and she looks beautiful regardless of the lies she tells herself.

“Do we have to go? We could just stay home and watch a movie?” she diverts. A smile is playing at her lips though, so at least I know she’s not uncomfortable.

“Tell you what. You can drive,” I start, which is a great start because she hates when I drive and use my stunt skills. To be fair I just do them to show off and get her to slide into me on the long bench. It’s fun, sue me. “We’ll go, and if you still don’t want to be there after my song, then we’re going to come straight back here, get under some blankets and watch She’s All That.”

She’s All That is her favorite movie, in part due to the main plot but I also think she identifies with Freddy Prince Jr’s sister in the movie. She’s a sarcastic makeup/hair artist in the movie, and who do I know that sounds like that? Yeah, exactly.

“I don’t like how well you know me,” she says, biting into her lip as she pretends to mull over what I suggested.

“You’re right, you love how well I know you.”

“Okay, fine,” she says, fully smiling now. “You were serious about me driving?”

“As a heart attack,” I tell her.

‘YES!’ I’m shouting in my head, because I nailed it! Getting a smile like that out of her is the best prize you could ever get, I swear it.

I think the only thing that could be better is knowing that she’s mine.

But that’ll come, eventually.

***

Reader’s POV

Ten minutes later we’re at karaoke. I truly cannot with Colt Seavers, the only person who could make me feel pretty in this stupid ass romper.

He spent the car ride talking to me about his day, which was adorable, the way his nose scrunches up when he remembers something funny, and intermittently singing along to the song on the radio. I love when he lets me drive his truck, I feel like I can taken care of him for a minute and just listen to him. Oh, and I also don’t feel like I’m seconds away from dying because unlike him I don’t stunt drive. Although, I will say, I don’t mind when he does those stupid circles because it always presses me up against his side, which is never a bad place to be.

Right now Gale, the producer who always seems to be drinking a Diet Coke, is singing Toxic by Britney Spears. She has an incredible voice, and the entire bar is rightfully captivated by her stage presence.

“Hey! You made it!” Jody says, walking over to Colt and I. We’re sitting in a booth, on the same side, both slack jawed watching Gale.

“No thanks to you,” I say with an innocent smile.

“If you say so,” she smirks. “Thanks for getting her out of the trailer,” she tells Colt.

“My pleasure,” he says charmingly, squeezing my arm.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Phil Collins is calling!” she dashes off to the stage as Gale is almost done with her song. She must be cued next.

“I see what you did there!” Colt comments after her. Collins and “calling” sound similar with her British accent. I must be blushing-the whole “lovebirds” thing-, because he looks over at me, amused, saying “What? Do I have something on my face?”

I go to answer, but all of a sudden Jody is singing “You’ll Be In My Heart” by Phil Collins, and I immediately pull out my phone to video. Jody has an incredible voice as well, and I love listening to her sing.

Once she’s done, she runs over with Sheila in tow, who must’ve just got here. They lift me up out of the booth- I’m starting to get sick of being man handled- and push me towards the stage against my protests. Colt is laughing- jackass- but all of a sudden “Any Way You Want It” by Journey is playing and I’m singing.

Now, I have a mediocre voice, but the thing about karaoke is that you could sound like a rabid raccoon, but if you have a song that everyone knows, you’re the shit. And also, I don’t really care what anyone thinks of me, so I just went for it.

So naturally, I was the shit. Everyone was singing along, and I couldn’t stop looking back at Colt, who was smiling so big as he sung along. He’s so, so cute. Finally the song was over, and I gave a dramatic bow. Colt met me by the stage, holding a hand for me to grab as I jumped down.

“You were incredible,” he compliments sweetly.

“Thanks,” I say, looking up at him, my hand still in his. His touch is electric, I can feel his heartbeat. His lips are ever so slightly parted, and I’m sure mine are the same… if he would just lean down-

“Is there a Colt “See-aye-vers” in the house?” the emcee asks into the microphone, completely mispronouncing Colt’s last name.

“Fucking Jody,” he mutters. We both turn to see Jody literally cackling by Sheila.

“Your turn!” I say gleefully, pointing at him so the emcee can see him.

“Mean,” he pouts jokingly, before going up on the stage and taking the mic from the emcee as I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss begins to play.

And he’s staring right at me as he sings it.

Well shit.

That’s the thing- apparently all of my coworkers are extremely talented singers. Maybe it was a requirement? Who knows.

Colt is no different.

And the thing is, I’m severely attracted to his voice. The gravelly, yet low and softness of it. I love listening to him talk. Like, he could read the nutrition label of a soup can and I would be completely locked in.

His singing voice? A whole other story. Between the rasp and the range, I could literally lose it right here and now. He sounds incredible.

And he’s looking right at me as sings about being made for lovin’ someone and about that someone being made for lovin’ him.

And I don’t want to assume, but by the way he’s looking at me…

I think that someone is me.

Colt’s POV

Kiss?! Are you shitting me?! That’s the song Jody picks for me?

I should’ve kissed y/n right then and there, I’m thinking as I head up to the stage.

And then there it is. A Kiss song. Not just any kiss song, the Kiss song.

I can work with this.

At this point, I don’t think I can handle her not knowing how I feel anymore. Not knowing if she feels the same way. Fuck “eventually.”

So you know what? I’m going to do my grand romantic act, just like in the movies. And I’m going to sing this damn song, to her.

And if she still doesn’t notice, I’m going to go down there and kiss her until we can’t think straight. Asking permission to before, of course. I’m not a jackass like Ryder.

So I sing the damn song, and my eyes are on only one, singular person. My one, singular person.

And she’s mouthing the words right back to me, her gaze never leaving mine.

I don’t even hear the applause as I jump down the stage, Tom Cruise style, landing right in front of her. “Hey,” I say, trying to sound cool.

Naturally, my voice comes out as a squeak instead.

She doesn’t say anything, just takes a step closer.

“I, um…”

Of course now is the time I decide to choke on my words. Not when I’m singing in front of thirty people, literally never before. But now. Damn it, Seavers. See-aye-vers. Fucking adhd. Shit. Wait.

“Colt?” she says, her voice only loud enough for me to hear. I’m all too aware of the beginning of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” behind me.

“Yeah?” I whisper. Looking down at her.

“Kiss me?” she asks, and it’s the last straw. My lips crash against hers before I even realize what I’m doing, and it feels like fireworks. Like the whole world could end but it would be fine because her lips are against mine.

***

Reader’s POV

This isn’t happening. There’s no way this happening.

Those are the only thoughts running through my head as I look at him. That song… it was electric. Coming from his voice, as he stared into my soul? I can barely think.

I don’t notice anything, nor anyone. Nothing at all, except for him.

So when he jumps down from the stage in stuntman fashion, looking me in the eyes up close… I can’t help it. I can’t wait any longer.

And now his lips are on mine, as Jody sings more Phil Collins, but I don’t even hear it.

I’m sure we’re going to get teased for it, but I can’t help it.

Not when the only thing I can sense is his soft lips on mine.

So when we finally release, there’s no question about what’s going to happen next.

“Colt..?” I breathe.

“Yeah?” he asks, parted lips already puffy and pink from our kiss. Gorgeous.

“Can we go outside?”

He doesn’t even answer, just grabs my hand and starts walking to the door. Thankfully we didn’t buy any drinks, and have no tabs to settle, because quite honestly I don’t think we’d have cared.

Finally, we stop in front of his truck. I’m smiling like an idiot, and he’s smiling right back.

“Colt, I really, really like you,” I tell him.

“Y/n, I really, really like you too,” he says.

And that’s all that needs to be said as he crowds me against the truck before pressing a kiss to my lips that leaves me giggling.

“What’s so funny?” he teases.

“Everything,” I tell him, before threading my fingers through his hair. He shakes his head bemusedly before kissing me again.

I couldn’t ask for anything more, anything more at all. Because in the words of his favorite song, this is a Love Story and baby, I will always say yes.

[sehtoast]

At Heart (Ryan Butcher, parentified!OC)

ben being a parent, ryan deserved to be hugged and held for this one, ben will be getting him a new milkshake btw, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

The web-head all but nearly shatters the balcony door rushing inside.

While not particularly cut from the cloth of parenthood, Benjamin has grown to see Ryan as his own more than he ever knew was possible.  So when faced with the sight of him sobbing on the couch, of course he went into overdrive.

“Hey, woah!” Ben rattles as he tears the mask from his head and plops down beside the boy, a hand placed on his shoulder to gently shake him from his woe. “Ryan, hey– what’s– what happened?”

Ben’s answer is the boy throwing himself forward to hug and bury his face in his shoulder, crying as he explains it all.

He killed another person.

That fucking scripted save– Vought’s ridiculous insistence that the boy become their next hero to market to the world.

“K-Koy’s dead because of me! S’my fault again!”

Ben was familiar with Koy.  The stunt director always liked him, always loved when the bug would string a few webs from the ceiling to let him toy with during his own rehearsals.  It’d been so long since he’d seen him; public footage of his saves had been more than enough for Vought to let the bug off the hook.  And now…

“Fuck…”  Ben  sighs.  “Ryan–”

“He brought me a milkshake and took it because I– Dad said– he said I shouldn’t care…”  He hiccups.  “T-That they’re toys for us to b-break. N-now he’s mad at me and–”

Of course he is, Ben thinks to himself as he pets through Ryan’s hair. Because he’s not sure why you’d show empathy to the people who’ve always broken him.  But you don’t know that…

“W-Was my mom just a toy too?”

“No,” Ben shakes his head, sighing dejectedly. “No, your mom wasn’t a toy.  No one is– your dad…”  He swallows thickly.  “He–”

“Hates me–” He chokes through sobs.

“Damnit, Johnny…” Ben mumbles.  He loves that man like nothing else, but sometimes he really had a way of fucking up.  The bug pulls back from Ryan, hands grasping his shoulders to hold the boy steady.  “Your father doesn’t hate you.”

“He doesn’t want me either–”

“Ryan.  Look at me.”  He shakes him softly, brows knit with worry.  Doesn’t want you either?  “He just doesn’t know how to help you.  I’m not saying he’s right for saying what he said, don’t get me wrong, just… he literally doesn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do!”  Ryan shouts, gripping tight to Ben’s wrists, eyes suddenly going wide when that near silent wince rang through his ears.  He loosens his hold immediately. “I don’t– I can’t–” Heaving breaths through the panic. “I’m sorry–”

“I know…”  The bug murmurs.  “I know.”

Truthfully, what could he possibly say?  That it’d all get better?  He couldn’t guarantee that.  Should he tell the boy not to stress about the damage he’s caused?  Absolutely not.

All he can do is hug him close and let him cry it out, shh-ing him and rocking from side to side.  Benjamin wishes more than anything that he could know what Becca did for the boy when he was so utterly devastated.  Hell, maybe she never even had to do something like this– at least not for this magnitude of agony.

There’s no manual for this.

At least when the sniffling stops, Ben feels like he’s done something right.  Granted it only stopped because the boy cried himself to sleep, but…

It’s something, right?

He carries Ryan to his bedroom, up the stairs and to the left.  It used to just be a storage room before the boy came about, then John had it converted to be everything he’d ever wanted when he himself was a child.  Benjamin tried to explain, but… it just never clicked.

Gently, Benjamin places him onto his bed, snagging the nearest throw blanket to drape over his form.  Even asleep, the kid looks exhausted– and rightfully so.  He doesn’t deserve any of this. The pain, the sorrow, the guilt.  Ryan’s just a boy who’s been through far too much.

Not terribly unlike his father.

The bug sighs dejectedly, knowing there was a conversation to be had with his boyfriend about consoling the kid.  Homelander will get defensive, spiteful, angry– he’ll feel attacked right off the bat.  He’s trying, but he’ll never get it right if he doesn’t realize one terribly tragic thing about his son.

Try as he might to shape Ryan in his image, he will never truly mirror his father.  Homelander will never understand why, but Benjamin?  It’s not at all hard for him to see.  Not in the slightest.  It’s not a bad thing, but it’s certainly not good.  

Tragedy will always hit the boy hardest.  It will devastate him in ways his father can never understand.

Ryan is a human at heart. 

He always will be.  

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neil; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wondays; LubeAsACrew; Stats/Trends; Fan Spotlight; Engagement Prompts; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

Hey All, today's been an off day for me, so please let me know if I've missed something. Hope you all had fun!

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

== Rhys Darby ==

Well, our goofball of a captain is back with more Red Dead Redemption II, check out Part 2 below:

Rhys also did comedy at Bourbon Room Hollywood last week, and = tmiddendorfphoto on IG captured quite a lot of photos of his set. Feel free to visit them:

== Con O ' Neill ==

Whoops! I had this prepped for yesterday then completely forgot, sorry Con! Con was out seeing BettyRules in NYC!

== Wee John Wonday ==

Kristian had Samba on WJW Today! Lots of cool stuff they chatted above! If you're unable to watch right now, there's a small breakdown of various high points below:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

Highlights/Things We Learned:

Samba baby's name is Ocean

Samba was kind enough to stand in for WJW when someone else had to drop off for work.

Samba loves giving Kristian middle names: Kristian Victoria Nairn / Kristian Alexander Nairn / Kristian Valaria Nairn, Kristian Venereal Disease Nairn / Kristian Damien Nairn / Kristian Nicholas Nairn / Kristian Tabitha Nairn

There were live doves that would shit on you on set, and they shat on Samson

Kristian was a professional Chef

Samba wants to do Cryptic Factor w/Rhys

Samba is big into ufo's and cryptids

Kristian is also into paranormal stuff

Kristian - In New Zealand saw weird things on the lawn of his rental place (weird creatures focused on the balcony of his room)

David Fane - ate all the cheese in Calypso's Birthday

They really appreciate all the fans trying to save OFMD and would LOVE to get a season 3, even if only for 2 hours.

Samba would like ot do a bts/blooper combo but has to get permission first

For the wrap party, the cast members got each other gifts:

Samson got everyone crocs

EDIT: David Fane gave them Samoan necklaces (ty @denizbevan)!

Kristian said his "Gifts got stolen"

Samba gave them pictures / BTS videos

Q: Who was most elusive in regards to BTS?

Joel - also Ewan

Q: Favorite Soup?

Sambas favorite Soup - Chicken Noodle (chicken soup)

Kristian's favorite Soup - Cream of Tomato

Q: Did anything change with Roach in S2?

Yes, he became softer / trusting

Q: Lots of great energy and hanging out between crew members and family, (not something often seen) what do you think led to that?

Casting director Alison Jones - awesome at casting

Energy on set was positive and acceptance from the get go that helped

Sailing training, stunt training, sword fighting together helped bonding

Everyone on the cast was odd, and people moved out together so lots of small found family situations

Long hours together

Note: Stede's story time everyone is actually asleep, cause they've been up for like 18 hrs

Q: What's your favourite dessert, that you could live off forever?

Roach - Chocolate Mousse, really fluffy and airy

Kristian - Black Forest Cake

Q: What was best part of working in New Zealand?

8 hr days instead of 18 hrs days

Nature was gorgeous

Maori Elders did a land blessing

Q: Roach played a lot of roles, what do you think was his main role?

Cook, Doctor, therapist in that order.

Q: Would Aamba release a cookbook?

If enough interest, Yes - OFMD Cast Favorite Cookbook

And Mac and cheese recipe

Cakes and desserts

Q: What's it like being a new dad?

Amazing , no time to catch breath, feeling a lot of protectiveness and excitement and energy to step up and take care of the kiddo So fulfilling, Sambas a great dad.

Original Script / Deleted Scene Stuff:

In original script: Roach was going to end up with the crew of revenge, but then changed the script cause Samba would look like a kid who stole his dads jacket, so Frenchie was cap

Originally Zheng called the crew "beta" instead of "tender" but they changed it.

Innkeeper deleted scenes:

Everyone's eating soup on deck, roach was supposed to be serving people soup, and Fang says "Ah, Leroy, I'm so glad you're alive?" and Lucius goes "I'm sorry do you think my name is Leroy?"

Oluwande was crying, Jim asks if he was, he says no he gets that thing when he's around grass, and Jim says "A yeah lots of grass around here"

Other deleted scene:

Kristian saying "its sizest" doing big guy stuff

And roach says he's stuck doing tall skinnhy guy stuff

Pete asks if he's stuck doing bald guy stuff

More Deleted scenes:

Ewan zip lines over first and yells: "I was born to fly"

Roach zip line screams quietly cause they tell him to be quiet, and then he lands and says, "why its so sticky I wanna go back", and he tries to get back on the rope but Frenchie flys in and knocks him over.

Another Delete scene:

Wee John was going to dress up as cupid, would have encouraged Stede and Ed, who would have danced to "At Last" and then when and boned.

== Samba BTS ==

In honor of Wee John Wonday's, Samba added some more BTS starring Kristian, and shared the video he talked about in WJW regarding Kristian's birthday.

== Lube As A Crew ==

Astroglide sent @Seven_Sugars a carepackage for a lovely review!

== Stats Stats Stats / Trends ==

Thank you @meowzawowza_ as usual for the awesome insight!

Trends! Thank you @merryfinches and @debphotog for catching these!

== Fan Spotlight ==

For those of you not on twitter, you may not have seen @wndrngnomad's collage's she's been doing each day for the cast members! They go back quite a while so I'll add them all to the repo, but they kind enough to give me permission to share them with the everyone outside of twitter!

== Engagement Prompts ==

Over on Instagram @saveofmdcrewmates have some engagement prompts for tomorrow: #CrossoverCruesday. Time to switch it up! What is your fantasy crossover beween another show and OFMD? Crossover AU anyone?

== Articles ==

Special thanks to @heide79728 on Twitter for sharing all these international headlines!

HBO MAX "praised the loyal audience that engaged with the series and contributed to building an interactive community around it." - Article in Arabic

"14 Recommended Series-fans are already deeply engaged in a massive campaign to encourage another network to buy the rights and produce another season to give the story the ending it deserves" - Article in Hebrew

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies.

Have you had any water lately? Did you get to go outside and take a walk? Please remember that you need breaks sometimes, even if they're only a few minutes here or there.

You deserve rest-- and when things get rough, your brain needs a couple minutes to reset. Remember to take care of yourself and practice some self-care.

Self care means fun too!

Do something you enjoy that makes you smile. I'm not a fan of sticker/sticky things-- but I know a lot of people who love googly-eyes so I figured this was appropriate.

Anyway, gnight/gday crew, have a lovely one.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

I think I've done this Darby one on these recaps before, but I needed to have a theme tonight, and the them is well, I think you know. Yes that is Taika in the stash, from "Boy".

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Casting and show aside, the promo run for season 3 brought to light that people still want costars to date in real life and why some actors do pr stunts with their costars or directors still to this day. Luke showing up with a gf got so many fans so mad because they want him to date Nicola in real life. Fans are being so mean to him assuming Nicola or him ever had feelings for eachother. Just because they had great chemistry during promo and on set. I saw fans even complaining about him liking skinny women and thats why he is not brave enough to date Nicola and how that is a red flag. Just a couple of pictures did a flip in their perception of him.

Not to get into it but, personally, I’m more interested in the timing of it. Was it just a miscalculation? Did they think it would get buried by the good press from part 2? What was the purpose? Who was meant to benefit? Because even a lay person would’ve seen that backfiring for him, particularly, a mile away.

I haven’t followed them for very long and I try to keep out of the nitty-gritty of their personal lives (friends, exes, etc.) but Luke generally seems like a real sweetheart — if maybe a man going through a hot boy summer and struggling to marry that with the realities of fame for the first time — but I can’t see him intentionally sabotaging/undermining his and Nic’s hard work like that. And Nicola genuinely seems to adore him (I can’t see her going out of her way to defend him and do damage control if she didn’t) and I trust her, so I do have a hard time believing all these sinister assumptions people are suddenly making about him.

More to the point though, I’m so uncomfortable with people just accepting this narrative that Nic wants him so bad and that he rejected her. Like, why are we so comfortable leaning into the trope that she must be the one that’s into him, because he fits the societal conventions of beauty more? Why are people acting like she must just be happy to be there? Like she’s not the literal prize?

I think people are taking the pap pictures personally for multiple reasons (they wanted to live in the fantasy a little longer, it’s hard to believe that kind of natural chemistry might not translate into real romance, etc.) but a lot, I think, are taking it personally because they wanted to see a woman like Nic win and get The Guy, which I totally get.

Except that she is winning, and maybe she doesn’t want The (or this) Guy. She said herself, “Never be afraid to walk away because the right person will chase you.” She’s fine. Better than fine. She has oodles of options and opportunities for romance if she wants them. So, if people are hurting because she represents them, I get that. But if you zoom out, she’s doing so well — she’s beloved and desired and very clearly happy, and if you’re going to use her as an example for yourself then use that part of it.

She’s doing the choosing, and very likely, this situation (whatever it is) is of her own choosing.

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Doughnuts ?

A/N: I hope you all love this as much as I love Colt ! P.S. don't ask me how many times i watched this movie its distrubing

Colt Seavers X Reader

Working on a movie set had a been dream of yours for as long as you can remeber. The magic of seeing the big lights and the movie stars.

You always loved working on projects from the time you can remember.

Writting and directing and seeing your own magic come to life was always a dream come true.

Most people told you to dream releastic and stick something that would be more achievable.

But you didn't listen sitting at home doing a boring 9-5 was the not the life you wanted for yourself.

You went to film school out in LA and it was the most you ever felt alive. You finally felt like you belonged here.

When you graduated you thought you were going to immediately jump into work. I mean you were the next big thing right? Well that dream came crashing down. Reality set in and bills needed to be paid.

So when the oppurtinity came up for you to work as a camera operator for a movie you took it right away

. I mean you were going to be still working on the magic right ?

A couple of months in and you were finding your groove everyone on set was incredibly kind and welcoming.

There was one particular guy who was nice to you.

Colt Seavers was a incredible stunt man. Can we just also say for the love of god how incredibly hot he was.

I mean how was he not a movie star himself.

God took a little extra time with him. But the nice thing about him though was he didn't have a ego to match. To your surprise was he kind and nice and funny.

One day you were sitting eating lunch alone and he came and sat down next to you.

"Someone as beautiful as you shouldn't be eating alone" Colt said as he thew about 3 plates of food down.

"You really gonna eat all that" You said laughing

"Hey your brain needs carbs to live how else can i be set on fire without nothing on my stomach" Colt said laughing

Like what ever he said made sense. The two of you just sat and talked in for a while and he made you feel like you knew him forever.

He was funny like he was honesly geniunely hilarious.

The two of you talked about dream vacations and how being set on fire was nothing compared to when they stopped making his favoriate brand of coffee beans.

When lunch was over he asked for your number. He said he wanted to be a gentleman and drive you home because it was dangerous out there.

The work day seemed like it was never ending after that. The annoying ass director just wanted another take after another one.

You were about to just sit the camera down in protest and leave but thank god this was the last scene.

You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone. You just put your stuff away and grabbed your things.

You were sitting in the parking lot next to your car.

A few minutes had passed and you were worried you got stood up. You were about to get back into your car so you didn't look like an idiot.

Just as you were pulling out your keys. A huge truck blaring Taylor Swift pulled up next to you.

"You didn't think I forgot did you" Colt said smiling.

You smiled back and hoped into the truck

"A man with taste" You said

He pulled away and the windows were down and the music was blaring. He drove to an empty parking lot down the street and you gave him a confused look.

"Doughnuts" He asked

"I love Jelly" You said making him laugh loud

"A breakfast date when were done I love it" Colt said

"I know a good spot" You said.

Colt postioned the car and then looked over at you with a smirk and then took off fast.

It caught your breath fast and you felt your heart dropping into its stomach. Colt stretched out his arm and nodged you over closer to him.

It really did make you forget about your troubles. Like everything else didn't matter in this moment. You felt like when you were on a rollcoaster and you reached the top.

then when you shot done that rush of adrenline was amazing.

You could do this all night with him.

"Same time again tomorrow" Colt said

"It's a date after real doughnuts" You said

"Carbs make everything better" Colt said

You leaned in and laid your head on his shoulder and he smiled down at you. The real magic wasn't on the movie set it was right here with the two of you

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 4

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  

a/n: i’m really happy with all the comments i got on the past chapters!!! just don’t know how to answer them with this account and not my personal one :/ should they fuck already or nah? let me know

word count: 1,851

After your last encounter, Pedro was being extremely weird around you. If you could even say that, since it was very clear that he was also avoiding you. This has been going on for about 2 weeks now and it made you feel super insecure. You didn’t get why he was behaving like this. Did he regret the little moment you had in the tub? Did you do something that made him change his mind? You felt confused and, being honest, a little abandoned.

In the mornings, you went straight to the set and, at the end of it, you ran back to your cabin. You felt very lonely without his company and even though you had a crush on him, your friendship was what you’ve been missing the most. The stories, the laughs, the looks between scenes. When you had to interact because of work, he avoided your eyes and was very quiet around you. For the past couple of weeks, you didn’t do much other than hang out with Flo on the only day off you had — and even that was odd, because Pedro left a few minutes after you got to Flo’s cabin. All of this was consuming you and making you feel terrible.

You were off duty when the producer called you. They were working on positioning the lights and rehearsing, but the extra actress who was supposed to be in the scene didn’t show up. Being a budget movie being shot in the middle of nowhere in Germany, the producers had to figure it out with what they had in hand. Trying to keep the situation only between the producing and directing teams, as the scene called for a more intimate approach, they asked you to be her stunt. You knew what scene it was and you got chills thinking about it, as you walked towards the cabin they were in.

Waiting for you were the director, the cinematographer, Flo and Pedro. The only form of illumination in the room were candles strategically positioned for the shooting. The director approached you. Not much time for the ceremony, Flo put your hair down and applied some makeup on your face.

“I’m gonna need you to strip down, girl friend”, she let you know, a bit embarrassed.

You already knew about that, so you had already prepared your mind to do it. You took your clothes off, keeping on only some nude panties. Flo added some makeup on your body as well, and left the room.

“Okay, let’s roll then.”

You and Pedro laid down on the bed together. He was still wearing his clothes, only some shirt buttons opened. He was on top of you, but didn’t dare to look at your eyes. It felt like forever for them to make sure about lights and angles.

“As you know, this scene isn’t about love”, the director started. “It’s about fucking. That’s all I have to say. Action!”

You both didn’t move.

“I said, action!” He shouted.

Your body felt tense underneath his and it all felt kind of mechanical, as he put his hands on your face and started to come closer to you. Well, this is how acting is supposed to be, you thought, as you put your hands on his hair, trying to make sure you were following the director's briefing. He suddenly stopped.

“Sorry, Dave”, he said, completely ignoring you under him. “I don’t think I’m feeling it with her, she is too young, and I feel like this whole scene doesn’t add up to the movie itself.”

“Excuse me?” The director looked confused and slightly offended.

“I’m not doing it”, Pedro simply said. Dave looked infuriated. “I know I have a veto power on the contract and I’m using it.”

 “That’s why I don’t work with Hollywood stars like yourself”, he said after breathing in and out very slowly. “I just wanna point out what incredible ironic is your problem with her age, giving that I’ve lost track of how many times it got to me that you two have been suspiciously close with each other.”

You saw in Pedro’s eyes the same anger as the day you went clubbing. The producer came back into the room, after hearing the voices a little louder going on inside.

“I think it’s better if we all calm down”, she said. “Look, this scene has been controversial since day one, even the studio heads thought so. Let’s leave on hold now and we can have a meeting later this week—”

“No, Donna”, Dave interrupted her. “I’m doing it with or without him.”

“Just to make myself clear, neither is she doing anything”, Pedro said pointing towards you with his head. “I’m vetoing her as well. Go get dressed, Y/N. Now.”

You did as he told.

“This situation is ridiculous at this point”, Donna looked nervous and tired. The two of them had been fighting for days over every single thing on the set. “I will take this matter to the studio, no shooting tomorrow. Everybody out of my sight."

You left the room first and you had to practically run, because it was pouring rain. After all that, you weren’t even sure you still had a job anymore and you just felt so fragile. You heard steps behind you, but you didn’t stop. Pedro called your name. He got to you once you had to stop to unlock your cabin door.

“Can we talk, baby girl?” His words made you slowly turn to face him. You both already wet from the rain.

“Don’t you fucking dare to baby girl me, you fucking asshole”, you didn’t raise your voice, but he could see the hurt in your words.

“Y/N, I couldn’t do it— this whole situation”, he tried to defend himself.

“Fuck you Pedro. Fuck you a million times”, you were a bit louder now. “Did it cross you pretty little mind that I need this fucking job? That I need people to fucking like me? Get off your ass and look around, man.”

“You are no actress, especially for a scene like that”, he said, raising his voice too.

“Why do you care? You don’t even recognize my existence anymore”, you felt like crying.

“That’s how much I care!” He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me since I met you? Being around you and saying no to every single one of my instincts demanding me to fucking make you mine? Since day one, Y/N. Since I saw you in that goddamn bathtub.”

“Who the hell asked you to do that?” You stared at his brown eyes.

“You didn’t even want people to know we were friends”, he did his best to not sound like he was blaming you. “I never know what to do around you and you don’t make my life easier with all those fucking mixed signs.”

“I fucking told you!” You come off louder than you meant. You take a tone down as you repeat yourself, “I fucking told you.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Can we go inside, please?”

You did as he asked and got you both towels. He sat on the corner of your bed.

“Look, sweetheart”, he began. You were still standing up, looking at him. “This whole thing…  The age gap, it just— it won’t work out in the long run. After what happened, I truly felt bad with myself, as if I was taking advantage of you.”

“Wow, hold on a minute”, you shake your head. “Sure you are like, over 20 years older than me, I get that. But who the fuck was talking ‘bout forever? And most importantly, Pedro, I thought we fucking were friends! Why didn’t we talk about it?”

“I’m sorry—"

“I’m not done”, you interrupted him. “I’m no kid. I’m a fully grown woman who knows what she wants and I expected that after our last conversation you already knew what that was.”

You came closer to him.

“You are not manipulating me, Pedro”, you said as you got on your knees in front of him. “I want this, I want you. I fucking need you so badly.”

Your words gave him chills. You both knew that what you were craving would have a lot of implications for both of you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes sparking. “Are you sober?”

"Unfortunately, I am”, you promised. “Please, don’t make me beg.”

You didn’t have to.

Pedro finally pulled you closer for a warm, passionate kiss. He held your neck with one hand, using the other one to pet your cheek. You made sure to reciprocate the intensity, getting your tongues to touch, making the kiss deeper. Your stomach felt like it was upside down, butterflies all over the place.

"Fuck, sweetheart", he growled in the middle of the kiss, you got goosebumps all over your body. He got you up and made you sit on his lap, so his hands could run more freely through your body. "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?"

The thought of Pedro thinking you were beautiful made you blush. He had mentioned it a couple times before, when you're hanging out together, but in a more subtle way. You let your hands wander through his neck and arms, finally being able to touch him as you’ve been wanting since you two met. A moan escaped your lips and that was the sign Pedro was waiting to push you down to the bed, getting on top of you. You loved the feeling of this warm body on yours and you could feel the heat from between your legs increasing.

All you could think about is how you wanted him all over you, touching every single possible part of your body. His smell felt inebriating, as if he was the only thing you senses could process at this moment. Time stopped making any sense and you both pulled away after a while, gasping for air. He let his body fall down next to yours and you laid on your side, turned to face each other.

"You're a good kisser", he says, switching his look from your lips to your eyes.

"You're not bad yourself", you both giggled. He let his hand rest on your waist, putting you a little closer, saying nothing for a while. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just— I guess I’m worried about you”, he said, avoiding looking in your eyes now. “Keep thinking about what Dave said, people gossiping about us.”

“Usually I do my best to not listen to what people say,” you started. “But I guess I’ve been afraid of running the career I barely started.”

“I get that and I’m sorry I can’t protect you from it, sweetheart.”, he touched your cheek with his thumb. “We’ll just keep it between ourselves.”

CHAPTER 5 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST:  @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan​ @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​​ @eliffluisa @jbcalway​ (does anybody know why i can’t tag some people?)​

[klauzar]

Translation before they add engsubs:

Hello, I'm JJ Patiphan Fueangfunuwat, playing Win. It's not just spells like regular "Win", there's also letters ทร์  at the end.

(Person behind the camera: How is it different from regular "Win"?)

It's more glamorous and cool... lol    

[Who is Win?]

Win is driven, reckless and genuinely decent person. He sticks to the truth. Not your average cop, but a good one. Excellent one. He stays true to himself, has his own ideology, not like a typical policeman.

If he is told not to do something, he will find a way to do it secretly. I can't tell you much more than that.

[How do you feel about getting this role?]

How do I feel? Awesome, amazing. Because I won't get the opportunity to be a cop in real life, that's for sure.

I imagined Win as a cool guy, with a beard and messy hair, since he's working as a field investigator. I think he's cool.

Win must be the oldest character in the story. Frankly, the director and P'Pond didn't know how it would turn out. The day I got the part, I posted a story with beard like that, and P'Pond liked it.

He said to teacher Ning: "Let Win have mustache for this role."

[How did you prepare yourself?]

In my opinion, acting mature is not the difficult part. But I needed practice at portraying a police officer. After getting the role, I went for a walk every evening, walking around with arched chest and straight back. Like a police officer would.

Trying to look sharp, cool and active. I don't know if you can see it in the series, when the character is standing still. But I did my homework.

I studied saluting gestures, police terminology and so on. In the script, when they talk about breaking in or arresting somebody, they don't talk normally. They use police lingo. "Entering the area, code 22. Once the target is found, follow the code 24 and detain them. " Cool stuff like that.

[What's the difference between JJ and Win?]

Win is reckless, incredible brave, has very clear principles.

However, he differs from me in one way. In the series, Tongkla is cheating with him. I can't relate, because I've never found myself in situation like that. It's the opposite of my experience.

Win is a good person who's sticking to his principles. He never did anything wrong. This is not a good situation for him, very unethical.

Finding the right emotion is difficult. In order to perform the scene, I have to know what it feels like. In the end, it all comes down to love.

[How do you feel about working with your seniors?]

I've only met Fuaiz. Well, apart from policemen. 5555

We (JJ & Fuaiz) are a good match. We already worked together, so we're close. We've played together, so it's easy, just with different characters.

There's one scene with P'Bas. He's a great actor. Yes, he nailed it.

[Challenges of this role?]

Action scenes: jumping, shooting, exiting from a windows, driving, dodging, escaping the vehicle, doing backflips. I was bruised all over.

Wore protective gear and still got hurt. I don't understand how. Maybe I did a jump the wrong way. That's the real action. Cool but exhausting, to the point of wanting to throw up. I knew beforehand when there's gonna be backflips or other stuff. I didn't eat anything in order to avoid getting sick. I still felt nauseous, and couldn't even throw up.

I was wearing the gear under hot sun... It would burst if I flexed too much since it was so tight. Wireless also is tight-fitting. It's like ninja turtle shell, and on top of that police uniform, gun, handcuffs - it all weights, like, ten kilos.

I remember, during DFF shooting, stunt team taught me how to avoid punches and how not to hurt myself while doing tricks. I guess, I didn't follow their advice and got hurt.

I was tired, but what kept me motivated during that scene is santol with sweet fish sauce. Good stuff. I just want to share. I don't know. It was there and I wanted to eat it. It probably belonged to someone else, someone from the make-up crew, if I'm not mistaken. So I ate it, and the sour taste re-energized me. Santol with sweet fish sauce helped me to get through the scene.

Okay, please watch the 4minutes series on channel one31 and the sultrier version on Viu every friday at 23:15. *salutes awkwardly*

[probably-writing-x]

Stunned Stunt

Summary:

Warnings: Cursing, violence and mentions of blood

Author’s Note: Hope you like this !! Let me know if you have any other requests.

———

“Alright (Y/N), we need you on set,” One of the crew knocks at the door to tell you and you push yourself up from the couch to follow after them.

This was your second season working on Outer Banks and you had still not managed to get over the fact that the entire thing felt like one big vacation rather than actual work. It was a few months of working out in the sun, with a bunch of your best friends, and your boyfriend - what more could you want?

The majority of your scenes were filmed with Drew and you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t inevitably how the two of you had become so close filming together last season. By the time filming had wrapped, the two of you still spent every day together until eventually you realised you were essentially already dating. Now, you could come back to work and act out being a couple with the guy who was your boyfriend already. Though, dating Drew was a far cry from dating Rafe - the two were polar opposites in most ways.

“There she is!” Drew grins when he sees you, makeup around his eye to make it look like he’s got a bruise, “Don’t worry you should see the other guy.”

You laugh and let him wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Are you excited to do some stunts?” You ask against his chest as he runs a hand up and down your back.

“You mean am I excited to watch both of us get flung across the room? Yes, I can’t wait,” He jokes, pulling away to look at you, “Time to pretend we’re toxic and probably shouldn’t be together.”

You frown at him, “Isn’t that us normally?”

Drew rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his, the two of you walking towards the waiting set.

For context, your character and Rafe had started dating at the end of last season - his first proper love interest for the show. Your character opted to forgive everything that Rafe did, becoming an apologist for him on the island, and so they’d started seeing each other. They argued and screamed and broke everything in their sight when they were in the middle of a fight. You and Drew couldn’t remember the last time you argued, and the biggest fight you’d ever had was over which film you should watch on date night.

“Alright guys we’ve got everything set up for you,” The director comes over to explain, “If you guys want to get into the places like we rehearsed, we’re going to run the argument scene first and then get you guys wired up and go straight into the explosion - we’re going to do it as one big sequence if we can.”

The two of you agree and get into your places, the two of you in a hut on the water, one that would soon go up in flames.

“Alright, quiet on set!” Someone yells but, by now, all of your attention is on Rafe in front of you, “And three, two, one, action.”

“What are you doing here Ally?” Drew drags a hand through his buzzcut hair, his face seeming to shift as soon as his Rafe side comes out, darker and more menacing than Drew could ever be.

“What do you think I’m doing here? Did you think you could just walk out and leave me there?” You wave your hands in his direction, “What do you think this is?”

“I don’t care what this is, Ally, I don’t give a shit,” He returns, his eyes burning into you, “Why can’t you get that into your head? This isn’t fucking happy families.”

He turns his back on you and drags a hand over his face, tension growing in his shoulders.

“You can’t keep doing this Rafe,” You return, injecting the character of Ally into every one of your words, “You can’t keep pushing me away and then dragging me back in when it suits you. That’s not how this works!”

“THEN THIS DOESN’T WORK, DOES IT?” The words bellow deep in the space between you, seemingly shaking the wood of the hut as you flinch back in shock.

You cower away from him slightly, tucking your arms around yourself and for just a second you see a glimpse of Drew in the regret between his eyes. But this is Rafe, and so he turns his back on you once again, a wild hand swinging towards a lantern on the table, knocking it down and shattering it over the floor.

“And cut!” The director yells and you seem to switch back to reality almost instantly, “Great job guys, we’ll get set up for the stunt now.”

“Wow, almost believed that you hated me then,” You wiggle your brows at Drew and he comes over and grabs both of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together.

“I hate doing these scenes now,” He shakes his head, “It feels so weird.”

“But you didn’t mind yelling at me before?” You joke, squeezing his hands.

“Oh, it was much easier,” Drew laughs, “I found it a lot easier to be a psychopath before you came along.”

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t blame me babe.”

You turn around and he wraps his arms around you from behind, perching his head on your shoulder as you wait for the crew to set up the rest of the layers of the stunt. The storyline of the scene was that Rafe was about to burn down the hut, covering it in gasoline before you’d arrived, as the lantern knocks, the whole place is supposed to go up in flames - leaving you and Rafe hating each other and trapped together.

“Alright so we’re going to have you two coming out of the flames, the plan is that you’ll fly back, hit into the wall and that’s when Drew you’ll be trying to get (Y/N) out of the fire because she’ll have hit her head. Make sense?” The stunt coordinator explains, “We can have a few runs but like they said, we ideally want this as one sequence so it might take us a few tries.”

“Sure, sounds good,” You nod, “I can play dead for a while.”

“And I can pretend to care,” Drew nudges your side and you hit his arm jokingly.

“Alright, lets get into places guys,” The director calls over the speaker and you walk onto your spots as the scene is set to begin, “Three, two, one, action!”

“What the fuck have you done Rafe?” You yell, hand coming up to your face to shield you from the fake flames.

“Get out! We need to go!” Drew bellows, his voice thick with fear.

You turn and the fake explosion sets off in front of you, blocking your exit. Drew stumbles back from it, his arm up to shield his face. But, as he does, he trips and falls further back, his arm colliding with your face. Your head knocks back and you stumble slightly, hearing the director yell cut within a split second.

“Oh shit!” Drew exclaims, turning around to face you, his hand gripping your arm, “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Your hand grips at your face as you start to feel blood pool beneath your nose, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, you just caught my nose, it’s okay.”

“Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry, I don’t-“

Before he can say anything more, the on-set medics rush over and try to get between the two of you.

“(Y/N) come with us,” One of them says and you try to blink the blurry vision out of your eyes, “We need to get that looked at.”

They’re holding you from either side to guide you away from set before Drew can say anything more. But he watches you leave, dragging a hand over his head as his eyes start to blur with worry.

“Alright, let’s all take a break guys,” The director comments, “Are you okay Drew?”

But he’s following after you before he can think to respond.

~~~

They fix you up in the medics tent and assure you that it’s not broken but you’d likely be left with a healthy bruise. They tell you to leave ice on it but that they were happy you didn’t need any further attention and you take that as an ideal reason to get out of there.

As soon as you open the door to the medics’ trailer, you see a hunched over form sat on the few metal steps leading up to the entrance. He turns around as soon as the door opens.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Drew scrambles to stand up, “They told me not to go in but I-“

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” You half-laugh, “Don’t worry, they said it’s just bruised.”

“I just didn’t even realise you were stood there, I don’t know why, and then I don’t even know what I tripped on but it shouldn’t have been there and then I-“

“Drew!” You put a hand over his, your other hand still holding an ice pack over your nose, “Stop worrying! It’s fine, I’m genuinely okay.”

He furrows his brows, his lips parting and then closing again like he’s re-thought what he’s just about to say, “Let me see it.”

You pull the ice away from your face and he winces instantly, examining it like he wasn’t certain with the medic’s decision.

“(Y/N) that looks painful!” He grimaces, squeezing your hand.

“And that’s what medication is for,” You wiggle the pack of ibuprofen in his face, “I’m genuinely okay, I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Drew furrows his brows, contemplating it before deciding to believe you, “Okay, let’s go get some lunch, come on.”

He wraps an arm around your back and guides you across towards the makeshift cafeteria.

When you both get in, the rest of the cast are already sat down but they hurry over as soon as they see you, worry plastered across all of their faces.

“(Y/N)! We heard what happened, are you okay?” Madelyn frowns, scanning your features like she’s checking you over.

“Yeah, I’m okay I’m okay,” You nod your head, “It was just an accident.”

“God Drew how did you manage that?” Chase jokes, hitting him on the chest.

Drew rolls his eyes and squeezes your waist, “I’m going to get you some food.”

Rudy frowns as he walks away, “What’s up with him?”

You shake your head, “I think he just feels guilty, but I genuinely am okay. It could’ve been worse.”

Before they can say anything else, Drew comes back over to you with a full plate of food, stacked up as if he thinks you haven’t eaten in days.

“Here, come on, let’s sit down,” He encourages, guiding you over to one of the tables.

Drew sits down beside you and puts an arm over the back of your chair, rubbing your back up and down.

You can feel his eyes watching you, focused on your face as you start to eat, like he’s worried part of you is about to break in an instant.

“Drew,” You set down your fork and turn to look at him, putting a hand on his leg, “I promise you I’m okay.”

“Wha- no, yeah, I know, I was just-“

“You’re watching me eat,” You smile a little, “I love you, but I’m fine, honest.”

He sighs and nods his head, bring up one of his hands to cup your cheek, his eyes flicking between each of yours, “I just can’t believe I hurt you.”

“Drew, you didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” You lean into his touch, “I would tell you if something was wrong, it’s just going to be a bruise.”

He nods like he’s finally agreeing with you, turning and resting his head on your shoulder, his hand moving to your thigh and resting there. One thing was for certain now that the two of you were acting together again, Drew was as far from Rafe as you could possibly get.