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moltisantiii · 21 days ago

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

Cliff Booth x Actress! Reader

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

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

Warning : Language, Talks of Death (Murder)

Word Count : 3.1k

Previous Chapters : I

Next Chapters : III

Click Here for Ao3 Ver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And action." Someone shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't leave. Not this time."

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

"I've got somethin' to stay for."

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

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

"But what if they do ?"

"I won't let 'em."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Franny's never liked me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks." Cliff said sarcastically.

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

#fanfic #fanfiction #cliff booth #once upon a time in hollywood #brad pitt #cliff booth x reader #x reader #quentin tarantino #x fem!reader #1960s #ouatih

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stephtuckerauthor · 5 months ago

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Knox snippet (Please give feedback, i feel like this is just so bad T_T)

Nerves were bubbling as you got closer to the quad, your grip on Alice's hand tightening.

"You're gonna be fine!" Your petite, blonde friend smiled at you. "All the poets are great, and you'll finally get to meet Rich! And Todd's gonna be there; at least you'll know one of them."

"I guess," Your nerves were eased slightly, smiling at the thought of seeing Todd; the two of you were taking the same English major. "Also, why do you call them poets?"

"It's a really long story," Alice laughed, her smile widening as she spotted the large group waiting for the two of you.

Releasing your hand, she ran towards a tall, copper-haired man, who caught her and spun her. Your heart fluttered a little as you watched them gaze at each other; there was no doubt the two were smitten.

They were quite the collection to behold, these poets. Todd waved to you as you stood beside him, the tall fae boy at his side beaming at you. Opposite them, a cute ginger with glasses was muttering to a smaller brunette, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Next to them, the tallest man you think you'd ever seen, and beside him…

You were left a little breathless as you gazed at the last of them, the smile he offered you curving up on one side as he caught your eye, melting you. Dark hair was slicked back, and he looked sophisticated, even in jeans and a sweater. Everyone else paled in comparison.

Your heart was doing backflips as he held your gaze, his eyes the most beautiful shade of hazel, only looking away when Alice finally broke apart from her boyfriend to introduce you.

"You ready?" Alice teased as you nodded, pointing to each man in turn. "Obviously, we know Todd. Neil, Knox, Pitts, Meeks, Charlie, and Richard."

The way she breathed her boyfriend's name made the other's gag playfully, and you couldn't help but laugh as Richard's cheeks turned the same colour as his hair. There was, however, only one name that mattered to you.

Knox.

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #writeblr community #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #knox x fem!reader #knox x reader #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #neil perry #todd anderson #stephen meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron

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that-sarcastic-writer · 3 days ago

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Serenity

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!doctor!reader

Summary: Robby has had a really shitty day, maybe he just needs his girlfriend to comfort him

Follows the pacing of the show so minor spoilers if you’re still not caught up

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), he talks her through it (yes he does and yall can’t tell me otherwise), age gap (reader is 35 and Robby is 50) (ik he’s probably Noah’s age but just bare with me here), established relationship, just vanilla sex really

WC: 6.3k no I’m not sorry

A/N: bahahah nobody look at meeeee. I think I outdid myself with this, I’m never beating the daddy issues allegations. This man just makes me so feral I couldn’t help myself. I’m hoping some of yall have been down bad too otherwise just ignore me (if this flops I’ll cry). Also tagging my bestie bc she has experienced my madness in real time🩷 @wittyjasontodd

You knew today would be an absolutely abhorrent day. You could feel it, the second that dumb clock hit six a.m, you knew. You knew it when you texted him if he wanted to eat dinner at your place after your shift, and he told you that he didn’t know when exactly he would get off his. He was working today and that made you sick to your stomach, a deep sense of anxiety and worry settling in. And you couldn’t shake that feeling all fucking day.

You didn’t want to worry about him, coddle him and suffocate him like he was a teenager, he surpassed you by quite a few years for you to be doing that. Still, you couldn’t not worry about him down there. His day was normally absolutely draining as it was, but having to deal with that today out of all days, it concerned you just how well he could compartmentalize his own issues and the issues of dozens and dozens of other people.

You were tempted to come downstairs yourself and check in on him under the excuse of bringing him coffee and something to eat. But then that would be weird. Then people would know. Well, you had a suspicion people did know by now, it was a bit hard to hide a relationship after two years. Though it was a bit easier considering you were all the way up in the pediatrics ICU and not in the Pitt. Still, you definitely noticed the knowing glances of Perla and Princess whenever you came down for a consultation or if they saw you sneak into the doctor’s lounge.

Dana knew, though you never told her. You didn’t think Robby told her either. You thought it took her maybe a month to figure it out. You prided yourself on how discrete you were about it, and still are. You walk together whenever your shifts align, hands locked and headphones in as you both enjoyed the short time you had in each other's calming presence before you didn’t see each other for twelve-plus hours. And then you went your separate ways, a quick kiss and a hushed ‘love you’ before going through completely different entrances to be extra cautious. You have been doing this since day-one. How Dana figured it out was beyond your extensive knowledge.

You both would like to think other than Dana’s superhuman ability to read people, you had managed to keep things private. It was better that way, doctors were such odd creatures, you almost positively knew that ‘favoritism’ would end up circulating around sooner or later, since, once upon a time where you were a bright-eyed and still a had will to live first-year resident, Robby was your attending. Albeit he was married at the time and you were engaged, you knew someone would find a way to turn it into something it wasn’t.

Today, however, you weren’t quite such how reserved you could be when you knew he was struggling.

You sat on your desk, a long exhale of exhaustion leaving your lips as you ran your hands over your face, enjoying the few minutes of peace and quiet you had managed to find. And then you heard a ping. You sat up, eyes shooting open as you reached for your phone with annoyance. You thought it was the hospital, but when you unlocked your phone you saw it was a message from Dana.

Well, fuck.

Dana: can you check on Robby? The overdose kid is hitting him pretty hard

A long sigh left your lips as you read over the message, heaviness settling in your chest. You had been keeping up with it since earlier this morning, you had hoped maybe the kid would respond to treatment. You guessed things hadn’t been so easy down there.

Me: you don’t think the kid is gonna make it?

Dana: Robby doesn’t think so. Come check on him please. He was gone for a while earlier

Another heavy sigh left your lips. Today was not the day for this.

Me: he doesn’t like it when I make him talk about his feelings

You weren’t entirely exaggerating. Robby wasn’t emotionally unavailable, the opposite, if anything, he was painfully aware of his feelings. He just didn’t like talking about them, especially when they were ER related. He would send you into a psych ward if he told you everything he experienced on a daily basis, he told you. And you respected it, your year in the Pitt definitely wasn’t the highlight of your life, and you admired him for choosing to stay there for so long.

Dana: you’re not. You’re just being a supportive girlfriend. Come, now.

You didn’t have to be in front of her to know she was being serious. You figured if you didn’t come down at some point she would physically come get you herself if that’s what it took. So best not to test the universe today. You had some time before your next appointment anyway. And Dana was right, you wanted him to know you were there, even if he didn’t always want it.

It came as a shock to no one that you ultimately found your way downstairs. It was always loud on your floor, but nowhere near as bad as the pitt. You tried your best to not draw attention to yourself, though with everything going on down here and all the people that came and went, you figured you would blend in for the most part. You hoped to find Dana at her desk, preferably alone, as to avoid awkward small talk and questionable looks since nobody actually called you down here for any medical reasons. You internally thanked the universe when you spotted Dana on her computer.

“Hey.” You spoke quietly, hands shoved into your pockets a bit sheepishly as you glanced around before looking back at her. She gave you a warm smile of gratitude and nodded at you.

“Don’t make that face, it’s not that bad down here.” She teased, calling out your hypervigilant mannerisms and the uncomfortable look on your face. You didn’t mind being here, but only when you had a reason to be, you definitely didn’t want to have to explain you came down here to check in on your boyfriend.

“I know.. But you know..” you gave her a look. But you didn’t have to say anything, she knew what you meant, she just liked teasing you about it.

“South 16 is empty. I’ll tell him I need him for something. Just be quick, we might need the room.” She told you in a hush, resuming her typing away at her computer. You quietly nodded, briefly reaching to lightly squeeze her shoulder as a silent thank you.

You waited a bit anxiously, shooting a glance at your watch. Shit, you had to be back upstairs in ten minutes to check up on a patient. But you didn't want to leave without at least making sure he was okay. Even if he was just going to brush you off and tell you that everything was fine, you at least wanted to see him. You waited another minute, and with a sigh you turned to pull the curtains out, but someone beat you to it. You jumped back a bit, eyes wide for a second before you realized.

He wasn't quite looking at you, or maybe he just wasn't paying that much attention, he thought he was in the wrong room at first.

“Sorry—oh.” Robby glanced behind him for a second, bit confused as he closed the curtain behind him. You smiled lightly as he looked at you both with confusion and relief to see you. Now matter how hectic or chaotic his day had been, how many times he had to chase down his residents, or many patients were a pain in his ass, seeing you always brought him a sense of calmness. He was ashamed to admit he was completely infatuated with you. His racing mind ultimately landed back on you, and he realized; he didn't remember calling you down. Maybe one of the residents did? But they didn't check with him first. “Hey, what uh.. What are you doing down here?”

“Just wanted to check in, I heard you’ve had a rough day.” You said quietly, lightly nibbling on your bottom lip as you stepped closer to him. He looked down at you, a heavy sigh leaving his lips and his jaw clicked lightly as he reminded himself to curse Dana out later. He didn’t want you to worry. He said nothing, so you continued, “The college kid, you don’t think he's gonna make it?”

He tried to hold back another sigh, but he couldn't help it, he squeezed his eyes shut and scratched the back of his head with exasperation. He considered not going into details, giving you the same bullshit answer he gave the parents. He never wanted to burden you with his issues, with the baggage that came with the ER. He always wanted to keep out of the relationship, though he found that to be quite the challenge. When he opened his eyes again and found your pretty eyes looking back at him, with that warmth and kindness that made him want you in the first place. Maybe he should open up, to you at least.

“Uh, no. He’s braindead so there’s nothing we can do.” The words left him like a ton of bricks, heavy and sharp. Your face immediately fell and your lips parted open lightly. You tilted your head at him, but said nothing. He wasn’t quite looking at you as he continued, “I keep ordering all these tests for the parents, but I know. And I don’t know if giving them false hope will make things worse for them.”

You nodded softly and rested your hands on his chest, you felt him exhale unevenly. You gave him a warm smile as you lightly rubbed his chest.

“Maybe they just need more time to make peace with it. Maybe they just need to know you did everything you could to help their son.” You knew how he felt, there had been so many times where nothing you did was enough to help someone’s child, and you had to tell them that. But you knew he did his best, he always did. Though you weren't sure if he knew that.

“Yeah.. yeah, maybe.” You felt him slightly tense under your touch and he avoided your eyes. He slightly angled his head to look behind him, like he was getting ready to sneak his way away from you and get lost in the chaos of the ER. you would let him, in a minute.

“Michael.” Your voice was a warning, quiet, stern. He snapped his head in your direction and looked at you with concern and confusion. You almost mever called him that. Only sometimes, when you were annoyed with him. With that scolding tone of yours. He didn't like it much.

“I don't like that. Why’d you do that?” He tilted his head at you, and you had to hold back a smile at the way he looked at you.

“‘Cause, you’re being difficult. There’s bad days and there’s worse days. Today is a shitty day, and that’s fine. You're doing your best, don’t be so harsh on yourself.” You sighed, running your fingers through his beard and he almost instantly leaned into your touch.

“How come you didn't go into psychiatry?” He commented and you snorted, leaning your forehead into his chest. You felt a slight chuckle rumble in his chest, and with that your deed was done for now.

“Well, I did a minor in psychology in undergrad, did I ever tell you that?” You leaned back, a small smile on your lips, and he had the little wrinkles around his eyes that you found to be so cute.

“Once or twice.”

You shrugged playfully, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned his head and caught your lips instead. You were definitely okay with that. A groan of annoyance rumbled in your chest when you felt your phone buzz, alerting you that it was time for your next appointment. You pulled back, much to your dismay and took a glance at your phone, you were definitely going to be late.

“I mean it Robby, I’ll know.” You shot him a playful warning look and he nodded, a tiny grin pulling at the corner of his lips. You leaned up, actually leaving a kiss to his cheek this time. “Love you.”

“Love you too hun.” He called after you as you disappeared behind the curtain. A long sigh left his lips as he ran a hand over his face. If he wasn't the attending he would go after you and would purposely get locked inside an exam room with you for a little while. But alas. He waited a minute, making sure it didn’t look too suspicious before he came out too, back to the madness he went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was just the gift that kept on giving. You eventually came down for the walk of honor. You knew you wouldn’t really talk to Robby, but you wanted him to know you were there. You truly hated to see him like this. Hours on end only for the answer to have been what he knew from the beginning. It was hard to look at the brightside. And then you heard Dana got assaulted and you were absolutely freaking out. You hadn’t been able to come down until the end of your shift, when you were on your way to head home. Robby still had another hour left of his so you were just going to your apartment alone, he almost never got off on time, anyway.

You damn near ran off the elevator and a sense of relief washed over you when you saw Dana sitting at her desk. A long sigh left your lips as you approached her and you nearly gasped when you saw the bruising on her face.

“Dana.” You said quietly, your eyes big. She shook her head at you dismissively, but it was hard not to worry. “They told me a patient hit you?”

“Yeah. Don't worry, I don't have any fractures, just a little sore.” She half smiled at you, but the look on your face never changed, you frowned even deeper.

“It's unbelievable. With all the patient satisfaction bullshit Gloria shoves down our throats you’d think they would invest a little more in making sure the staff is protected. Are you sure you’re okay? It bruised a lot.” You leaned down to inspect her closer and she rolled her eyes at you, but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes I’m sure, Robby made me get a CT and made me take a break, I’m fine.” She waved you off and you nodded.

“Oh, speaking of that pain in my ass, where is he? I’ve been texting him since the walk but I haven’t heard from him.” You frowned softly, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. Dana gave you a look, one that you definitely did not like.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t wait on him too much. Just go home, okay? While you still can.” Now that worried you even more. You knew today had been rough but you didn’t think it had been that bad. It took a lot for Robby to lose it, though you were unsure what exactly happened if that was the case.

“Yeah, okay. I’m glad you’re okay. I was very worried.” You offered her a tiny smile, which she returned and you exchanged goodbyes for the night.

Dana’s words lingered in your mind, and you were definitely more concerned for Robby than you were earlier today. Usually he would text you back, even if it was an hour or two later, but it had been hours and nothing. With a sigh, you started to head for the exit, and as you walked you saw Robby walking out of one of the exam rooms. You debated whether to pretend you didn't see him and to just go home. But that really wasn't the type of person you were.

“Robby, hey.” You called out to him as quietly as you could as you walked up to him. He visibly tensed at the sight of you and he looked like a fucking mess. You narrowed your eyes, your lips pursing at him but you continued. “I uh.. I’m going home. I don’t know if.. If you wanted to come over when, well whenever you get out. I’m picking up food on the way so..”

He was silent for a while, too long for your liking and you were starting to feel a little tense as well. He clicked his tongue, scratching the back of his head like you had picked up he did when he was stressed. You probably should have listened to Dana.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know. I don’t really know what time I’m getting off, and truly I think maybe I should go to my place tonight.” He said with exasperation, his tone harsh and laced with tension. It almost took you aback how he was talking to you.

You blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. It took you a couple seconds to process what he was saying. You counted to five in your head, took a deep breath in and just nodded. “Uhm, okay. Yeah, cool, I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I went home.”

“Yes, yes I’m okay, why does everyone keep fucking asking me that.” He raised his voice before quickly realizing what he did and his lips fell in a flat line. You stared at him in shock, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It was almost like it dawned on him that you were the last person in this hospital he should be snapping at. And he did just that. He reached to grab your arm and you backed up.

“No, it’s fine. I got it. Sorry. I’m gonna go home now.” You forced a smile, you could tell Robby wanted to say something, he opened his mouth but you just shook your head at him. “It’s fine, you need space and I get that. Text me when you can talk to me like a fucking adult, yeah?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to reply, you were turning around and hurrying to the exit before he could get a word in. Was that the most mature response you could have given him? No, not really, but you didn't particularly enjoy being yelled at by your boyfriend in the middle of the ER. You knew something else must’ve happened to him, but you didn’t really want to find out when he was that upset. You hadn't seen Robby angry often, stressed? Sure, all the time. But he looked pissed and you didn’t like that whatsoever. He was always so calm, so patient and so collected, it was unsettling to see him so easily ticked off. You tried not to think about it too much, he knew where to find you if he wanted to talk, calmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robby couldn’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the night. He felt horrible for yelling at you, when his problems were not your fault and all you wanted to do was be the loving girlfriend that you were. He always loved how attentive and caring you were, when you asked him about his day and when you would listen so attentively to the little he would tell you. You were the last person on this earth he should’ve snapped at today, and now he had to go home feeling guilty when all he wanted was your comfort. He debated about just going to his place and calling you tomorrow, maybe he would get you some flowers to apologize. But then thought that would be too long. It was so late, he definitely didn’t get off when he was supposed to, but maybe you’d still be awake. You usually waited up for him anyway.

Without much thought, he ended up at your apartment. He had a key to your place, he slept there most nights to be completely honest. He was rehearsing in his head the apology he would give you when the door got stuck.

“What the fuck..” he muttered to himself as he tried to force the door open, thinking maybe it got caught on the rug or something. But no, he looked down to find that the latch was on. You put the latch on. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue, trying to look into the apartment to see if he could see inside. This was definitely going to be his last straw.

You weren’t asleep, it wasn’t quite midnight yet, but even if it was, you weren’t sure if you could get much sleep tonight. You heard the sound of your front door unlocking along with muffled shuffling. You sat up, confused. You suspiciously came out of your bedroom, only to find Robby’s awkwardly tall frame trying to reach inside to undo the latch. You almost wanted to laugh, you would have, if you hadn’t still been a bit upset from earlier.

“Really?” You called out to him, arms crossed over your chest as you padded along the wooden floors, the floorboards creaking under your bare feet. Robby looked to find you, in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of cozy pants. He always found it endearing how cozy and comfortable you looked outside of the hospital.

“You put the latch on? Really?” He huffed quietly, annoyed that he got stuck outside your apartment, he definitely was not amused by you trying not to laugh. You shrugged.

“You said you weren’t coming over. I put the latch on when you’re not here.” You said like it was obvious, taking your sweet time in walking to the door. It served him right. He would’ve rolled his eyes if he didn’t know you were right.

You stood for a few seconds and made direct eye contact with him as you shut the door in his face, just to make a point, before you unlatched the door and opened it. You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest again as he quietly stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him. He dropped his backpack like it had offended him, and he crowded your space. His nose brushed over yours, and you could hear his breath. You were holding yours.

“I’m sorry.” He offered so quietly, so much so that you wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn't been so close. You inhaled sharply, slightly nodding. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yeah? You forgive me?”

You nodded again, as you leaned up to meet his lips. “Yes, now shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, his large hand squeezed your waist as he leaned down to meet your eager mouth. He definitely said nothing after that. God, he had been wanting to do this all fucking day. It probably would have made his day a whole lot less shitty. But he was here now, and he had you all to himself.

You weren't sure when you ended up being carried to your bedroom, or when your back was laid flat on your soft covers. All you could focus on was his lips claiming yours, his lips trailing kisses all over your jaw, down to your neck, and anywhere he could find, really. He wasn't normally this messy, perhaps the stresses of today had finally worn on him.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he muttered against your skin as he half-assed shrugged his hoodie off his shoulders and tossed it somewhere he would be scrambling for in the morning. You hummed along, only half listening. “Let me make it up to you.”

Confused, you sat up on your elbows as he settled between your thighs. You watched him with big eyes and a heavy chest as he silently pulled your pj’s down your thighs. You held your breath as you instinctively closed your legs. He shot you a pointed look as he pried your thighs open, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he settled between them. You gasped softly at the delicious burn his beard left on your thighs. You loved that you could always feel the tingle of where his mouth had been, even the day after.

He took his time with you, he always did. You never understood how he could stay so calm, so patient. You had no patience, and you knew that he knew. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you desperate. His tongue lapped at your pussy with such calculated movements. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls with his tongue. You felt like such a whore for asking like this, but you couldn’t help it.

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? You didn’t know. Robby raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up the slightest bit as he moved his tongue back to your clit and he slipped two fingers inside your cunt. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting.

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and sobbing, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. You chased his mouth, and he let you, always so amused by how quickly you would fall apart.

“That’s it, just breathe through it.” he hushed, his own breath heavy as he replaced his tongue with his thumb and he crooked his fingers just the right way, knowing each and every one of your tells, each twitch of your body, he had memorized all of it.

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his fingers scissoring you wide open. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. He dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you.

“Shit Robby.” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. You ran your fingers along his face, threading through his beard and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind.

“You’re okay, just breathe for me.” He said against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face softly. You breathed out a laugh.

“You should yell at me more often,” you snorted, and Robby shot you a pointed look. “So you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not done, so.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, leaving the lingering taste of yourself on your tongue before he flipped you over on your stomach. You bit your lip softly, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossed it somewhere. You heard him shuffling behind you for a bit. You turned your head to look back at him, and with a smile he leaned over your back, leaving a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hmm hi.” you hummed softly as you braced yourself with your arms in front of you. He pressed his lips to the back of your head, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank into you.

You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. The side of your face was flat on the mattress when he sneaked his hand into your hair and held you there. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up.

“Thought about this all day baby. With the fucking day I’ve had.” His words left him with a groan, and he gave you a particularly sharp thrust that had you sliding up the mattress. “Just wanted this. You're the only thing that isn’t wrong in my life.”

His raspy words in your ear made you moan, and you blindly reached behind you to touch him, any part of him. He leaned down, his chest flat against your back and his lips found yours, pulling you into a messy kiss.

“Mhm, should’ve called me down for a quickie then.” You teased him and he chuckled, his cheek pressed against your jaw, the new angle making him sit so deep you could feel him in your fucking guts. God, you didn’t fucking care that he was so much older than you, the way he fucked you, so passionately and so gently at the same time, you didnt care for anyone younger.

“I don't care for quickies.” he replied with an edge to his voice, despite the sass of your mouth, he could feel the way you squeezed the life out of him everytime he hit that perfect spot, getting you closer and closer to your release.

“You’re such an old man.” you managed to reply, but your witty remarks quickly left you when he slipped his free hand to find your swollen clit, which made you painfully aware of how close you were. But Robby could tell.

“Uh-huh, and this old man is gonna make you come,” There was a bit of amusement in his voice at the way your body twitched under him and the way your face twisted with pleasure. You were so close. “Yeah, thought so.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” you choked out, followed by a silent sob when he hit that one spot and you saw white. You were gasping for air as your whole body shuddered. Robby shushed you softly, slowly fucking you through your orgasm. He left wet kisses along your jaw as he whispered sweet words in your ear.

“Atta girl, you did so good.” He hummed as he left a kiss to the side of your head as you dropped your face flat on your blankets, your breath heavy as your body twitched in aftershock. You gasped softly when he slipped out of you, leaving you empty. You wanted to whine, but he gently grabbed your arm and flipped you on your back, and he settled between your legs with ease.

“Alright, lemme look at you. Just want to see how pretty you look.” He ran his fingers over your face, brushing your hair away from your forehead. It was always such a intoxicating feeling to have him on top of you, his pretty brown eyes watching your every move, his chain a reminder that you were about to get fucked (again). You fucking loved this feeling. You couldn’t even make a sound when he slid into you again, your eyes simply fluttering shut and your body twitching with pleasure.

“O-oh my god—!” The way you sounded so utterly fucked out, cock-drunk, it made him feel lightheaded as he fucked into you. He felt a little bad, with how exhausted you both always were, you never fucked this long, or so intensely. So he knew you were going to be so sore for your morning shift tomorrow. But fuck, with the way you squeezed your eyes shut, lips parted, he didn’t want to stop until you were both spent with exhaustion because you just felt so fucking tight and so goddamn heavenly.

“Mhmm I know, I know hun. Feels good hm?” He panted above you, his chain dangling above your face like a mockery of your current position with each thrust he gave you. You nodded harshly, a string of uh-uh-uh’s leaving your pathetic mouth as your nails dragged down his back.

“Feels so good baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, his voice shooting straight to your pulsing walls, making you whimper.

He gritted his teeth as he felt your walls squeeze the life out of him, a grunt leaving his chest as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand so tight as he pinned your hand above your head, and he planted his other arm beside your head, attempting to ground himself.

“There you go sweetheart. That’s it.” His raspy voice grounded you as you spasmed around his cock for a second time. Your sounds were so pathetic, the way you sobbed his name was enough to make him completely lose the very little self-control he was holding on to. He fucked you through your orgasm, gave you two, three more sharp thrusts before he fell into his own release, a breathy fuck falling from his lips

Sounds of exhaustion filled the room, drowning out the still on TV you had in the background, your show being completely forgotten the second Robby was at your door. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin as he ran a hand through his hair. Your eyes were screwed shut, your forearm thrown over your face as your racing heart matched your shuddering breath. He sneaked under your arm and left a kiss to the side of your forehead. You giggled a bit and opened your eyes to find his soft brown eyes staring back, there was a smile there, too.

“You want pizza? I bought some earlier from the place you like.” You spoke eventually, your chest now rising and falling in a steady rhythm as you rested your head on Robby’s arm. He turned his head to look at you and smiled in that way that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take some.”

Much to the protest of your legs, you threw yourself on your feet, ignoring the way Robby was chuckling at your struggle. You managed to find a t-shirt, you didn’t know whose it was, probably Robby’s but it was yours now. After making a stop to the bathroom, you were in the kitchen for a bit. Getting fucked made you hungry, so you heated up some pizza for yourself.

“Here’s your delivery, and I do require a tip.” You announced as you came back into your bedroom. Robby looked up from his phone, and he had managed to find his black framed glasses that you loved to tease him about. And a playful smirk formed on your lips. “I definitely want a tip.”

He looked at you confused for a few seconds then he realized and he blew out a laugh, shaking his head with disappointment. “You know, after a certain age one just gets really tired, can’t keep up with people your age. Not that I would know about that.”

You snorted as you flopped down on your bed, handing him his pizza and a can of coke because that was all you had in your fridge. “It’s okay, you’re my favorite old man.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, bumping his glasses with your nose. He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye that was anything but amused. Which made you laugh even more as you took a bite out of your pizza.

“I hope I’m your only old man.” He chuckled, squinting his eyes the slightest bit as he typed a text on his phone. God he wished he could turn this fucking thing off. He couldn't even be out of the hospital for an hour before he got bombarded with messages. He caught the way you shot him a glare and he gave you a quick ‘sorry’ before he set his phone down.

“I dunno, the chief of peds is quite the catch.” You couldn’t help but snort at the look he gave you, and you just shot him a smile. “Jokes. Totally joking babe.”

You ate in silence for a while, you kew you had to be up again at six in the fucking morning, but you just wanted to enjoy having him all to yourself for just a little longer. There was still a lingering thought in your mind, you’ve had it all night. It never left your mind. Robby was watching whatever you decided to play on the TV when you turned to look at him.

“Robby,” you said softly, he hummed as he turned his head to look at you. “Do you want to talk about today? It's okay if you don’t… I just think you should talk to someone, and I want to listen.”

You saw the hesitation in his warm eyes, the tension and dread from such a shitty day coming back to him. His lips fell in a flat line, and his jaw locked the slightest bit. You offered him a soft smile as you sat closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder with a soft shake of your head.

“Not tonight, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow.” He sighed out, leaning to leave a kiss to the side of your head. And you nodded with a reassuring smile.

You didn’t know how he was prior to the pandemic, maybe he was worse, or maybe he had gotten better since. But you didn’t mind putting in a little work to break down his walls and help him open. You would do anything, and you were okay with waiting.

#Michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #Dr Robby smut #Dr Robby x you #michael robinavitch #dr robby #the Pitt

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hargreeves-duncan · 7 months ago

Text

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY MASTERLIST

✩ = multiple requests

Allison Hargreeves -

N/A

Ben Hargreeves -

N/A

Diego Hargreeves -

- Diego Hargreeves x fem!reader - Smut 17+

- Diego Hargreeves x fem!Klaus'sbestfriend!reader - Fluff

Five Hargreeves -

- cheating!Five Hargreeves x impliedfem!reader - Angst

- cheating!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader pt.2

- Five Hargreeves x fem!casinowaitress!reader - Fluff

- Five Hargreeves x fem!reader - He Thinks You're Delores

- Five Hargreeves x fem!reader - Spa Day, Fluff/Comfort

- lovesick!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader - Fluff

- Five Hargreeves x gn!reader - Doomed Love, Hurt/Comfort

- Five Hargreeves x gn!reader - Max's Diner, Fluff - ✩

Klaus Hargreeves -

- Klaus Hargreeves x gn!reader - Comfort/Fluff

- Klaus Hargreeves x gn!reader - Smut

Lila Pitts -

N/A

Luther Hargreeves -

N/A

Viktor Hargreeves -

- Viktor Hargreeves x fem!reader - Period Comfort

- Viktor Hargreeves x fem!Lila'sbestfriend!reader - Fluff

- Viktor Hargreeves x fem!reader - Fluff

- Viktor Hargreeves x gn!reader - Fluff - ✩

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unhappycylinder · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! Love your writing. Not to jump on the bandwagon, but I was just wondering if I could request something from dps with a female reader. I’m sorry if this is cliche, but I was thinking of a scenario where the reader jokingly says she can take Meeks in a fight, and so they start playfully “fighting”. And a bit into it Meeks is like “alright, that’s enough.” and pins her down to get her to stop. Then she’s like “my bad, you are strong”, and kind of flirting so he’ll get embarrassed and then she can take him by surprise and “win”. Then some cheesy romance smoochy stuff comes in at some point. I have no clue, that’s just my idea, lol. Thanks, love!

Sorry this took me so long, I hope you love it!

Meeks x fem!Reader

wc: 900

“If you were stranded on a deserted island,” Charlie stared up at the ceiling, uniform shirt half unbuttoned as you and the rest of the poets lounged in Neil and Todd’s room, “which one of us would you want to bring with you?”

Summer had come early this year, and trapped within the brick walls of Welton Academy wasn't exactly the ideal place to escape the heat. Mr. Nolan was, of course, still enforcing school policy and making you all spend your study hours inside, so you and the poets were trying anything in your power to distract yourselves from getting heat stroke.

The boys murmured amongst themselves as they pondered Charlie’s question.

“Y/n.” Pitts said assuredly.

A hum of approval settled over the group.

“Hello?” Meeks whined, “why not me?”

“Well,” Pitts stuttered, “I mean Y/n is just like…stronger”

“Stronger?” Meeks squealed in offense, “she’s a girl…I could take her any day.”

“Oh yeah?” You turned to him quickly, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, duh,” he said, red curls bouncing over his glasses as he nodded his head.

“Alright,” you began rolling up your sleeves, standing up from the floor and turning to Meeks, “let’s settle it then.”

Offering him your hand, Meeks stood up, glancing around the room as the rest of the poets sat up from their respective lounging positions to watch the ‘fight’.

“I can’t hit a girl…” Meeks began.

“No backing down now, Meeksy, you started this, you finish it.” You playfully jab at his arm.

You swear you could hear him mutter an ow before rubbing his arm.

“Come on,” you repeated as you slapped and punched his arms, his head already dangling in defeat.

“Alright,” he locked eyes with you, “that’s enough.”

The next thing you knew you were pinned to Todd’s bed, Meek’s hands grasping your wrists above your head as he breathed heavily above you.

“Wooo” Charlie exclaimed from the other bed, the other boys dead quiet as their eyes locked on the two of you in such an intimate position.

Blood filled your cheeks as you stared up at Meeks, a smirk appearing on your lips as butterflies began to churn in your stomach, “wow, you are strong after all.”

His eyes trailed up your face until they locked with yours, a blush finding its way to his cheeks as well.

He began to smile as his eyes remained locked with yours, but only for a moment before yours darkened and you switched positions. Straddling his waist, you pinned his hands down above his head as he stared at you wide-eyed, mouth agape.

The other boys gasped, silence falling over the room as tension erupted between you and Meeks. He tried to speak but no words came out, just more and more blush on his cheeks.

You held his wrists down firmly, leaning forward just enough that your faces were inches apart. His breathing quickened, and for a moment, you could feel his heart racing beneath you. The room remained dead silent, but you barely noticed the others anymore, the space between you and Meeks pulsing with something unspoken.

"Didn't think you'd go down so easily," you teased, voice low, letting a playful smirk tug at your lips.

Meeks swallowed hard, his eyes darting between your face and the ceiling as if he were searching for a way out, but he was clearly flustered. "I... I wasn't exactly trying," he finally stammered, his voice shaky but laced with a hint of amusement.

"Oh?" you tilted your head, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I’m just stronger than you after all."

You could feel his body tense beneath yours, and as he let out a breath, something shifted between the two of you—an unspoken connection that wasn't just about play-fighting anymore. You let go of his wrists, placing your hands on his chest just long enough to feel the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

"You've definitely proved your point," Meeks whispered, eyes now soft, searching yours for something more than just a playful sparring match.

Your teasing smile faded, replaced with something more sincere as the playful moment transformed into something... unexpected. For a second, you both just stared at each other, the world outside of the bed disappearing entirely.

Then, as if breaking the spell, Todd’s voice cut through the silence. “Uh… you two okay over there?”

You blinked, realizing you were still sitting on top of Meeks. You quickly climbed off him, flustered but laughing it off. "All good," you replied, standing up and giving him one last smirk. "I think I’d uh…I’d probably want to be on that island with me too."

Meeks sat up, still blushing, but he managed a grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'll, uh, second that."

Charlie snickered from the other bed, breaking the tension in the room as the other boys finally exhaled, and the laughter spread. But even with the joking and chatter filling the air again, you couldn't help but notice Meeks stealing glances at you, his eyes lingering a little longer than usual.

And you found yourself doing the same.

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dead poets society fluff #dps fandom #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #meeks x reader #dps meeks x reader #dps x reader

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venusstsr · 7 days ago

Text

𝘽𝙚𝙩

𝘿𝙧 𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙭 fem 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

"Dr. Langdon has feelings for you and doesn't know how to tell you."

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 soo the last chapter left me in shock but I still like Dr. langdon 😞

I hope you guys like this!!!!

"What do you say? Do you think she will like it?" Frank asks Robby, showing him a necklace while they both change from their work clothes to casual ones.

A pink diamond rests in the center of the gold chain, looking quite expensive.

" as far as I remember, u guys are not a couple, which confuses me quite a bit." Frank sighed heavily.

"Listen, i want to tell her about how i feel every time we go on a date, thats why the collar but damn every time I’m about to do it, nerves get the best of me," Robby looked at him incredulously. "I might seem confident, but her eyes, the way she talks, damn even her perfume makes me nervous."

"You should do it. Collins told me that several doctors are interested in her; and I can't deny it, she's attractive and really good at what she does," Frank sighed again anxiously. "Don't get stuck in the 'what if?' Frank, I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck," the older one patted the blue-eyed guy's back, murmuring a goodbye.

Frank felt a whirlwind of emotions and walked quickly in the direction of the girl where he saw her about to get into her car; his conversation with Robby had stirred his thoughts, and the idea of losing the chance to tell her everything consumed him.

"Wait!" he shouted, his voice resonating with a mix of urgency and determination. The girl stopped and turned to look at him, surprised.

"Frank? What’s wrong?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

With his heart racing a thousand beats per minute, Frank approached her, trying to control his breathing. "I can't keep doing this," he started, feeling that every word was a weight he needed to release. "I've been thinking about you since I met you. Not only you are incredibly attractive, but you're also brilliant at what you do."

The girl looked at him in astonishment, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and curiosity. Frank took a deep breath and continued: "I don't want to stay in the 'what if.' I don’t want to lose the chance to be honest with you. I like you; I really like you."

Silence stretched between them for what felt like an eternity. Frank felt anxiety take over him, wondering if he had done the right thing by risking it this way.

Finally, she smiled softly. "Wow, that was unexpected," she said, her tone light but genuine. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"I know, I know," Frank replied, feeling a bit embarrassed by his emotional outburst. "But I couldn’t stay silent any longer."

She stepped a little closer. "Frank, I like you too."

The relief Frank felt was overwhelming. "So...? Would you like to be my girlfriend?" he asked with a mix of hope.

"Yeah" she replied with a bright smile. "I would love to."

Frank felt as if the whole world lit up at that moment. All the fear and anxiety faded away upon hearing those words. " Oh I have something for you." He pulled out the small box with the necklace inside and opened it, instantly seeing how her face lit up and flushed.

"Frank, you shouldn’t have; I don’t think I can take thi—" Frank quickly interrupted her.

"Please take it; I know you'll look beautiful in it." He took it out of the small box. "Turn around." She blushed but complied and turned her back to him while feeling Frank's hands on her neck fastening the necklace.

The atmosphere was filled with electric tension as they looked into each other's eyes as if the world around them faded away. With a gentle movement, he brought his face closer to hers, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Their lips met in a delicate kiss full of promises—a touch that started timidly but quickly transformed into a passionate connection. Frank's hands found their way to her waist as he left small caresses on her.

Leaving little kisses on her lips, they finally separated and leaned their foreheads together enjoying the little moment of peace they had created.

"I told you he'd take the first step." Perlah handed twenty dollars to Princess as they watched the scene from afar.

"Damn! I thought she would get bored waiting and make the first move," Perlah muttered angrily for losing the bet.

"Hey! We still have Robby and Dr. Collins' bet left," Princess reminded her.

#the pitt x reader #the pitt x fem reader #the pitt #dr langdon #dr langdon x reader #the pitt imagine

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puck-luck · 9 months ago

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moving along | john marino

warnings: established relationship, general complaints about Jersey, minor brat!reader but it’s not part of the sex, untraditional sex in the sense that they do not have furniture, unprotected p in v, sex as means of resolving an argument i guess?, fingering (fem!receiving) (sometimes i wonder if i need to clarify that because i personally am not into fingering my man’s ass and i doubt it’ll ever make its way into my writing), reference to oral (m!receiving), eating come (so true) pairing: John Marino x fem!reader request: “Could I request John Marino smut where after he’s traded to the Devils from Pittsburgh his girl is upset about the move but when they get to New Jersey he decides the best way to handle the move is for them to christen the new apartment to make it feel like home? Like literally no furniture has arrived yet and they’re already going at it.” wc: 2570

Pitt had been your home since John first signed his contract with the Penguins in the summer of 2019. You’d moved there with him because he asked, you two had curated a shared apartment space that you loved and considered your first real home as an adult. You were happy in Pittsburgh and John was happy with the Penguins. You hadn’t really known about the trade until it came, just ten days shy of the three year anniversary of Pitt becoming your home base, your foundation.

You knew that the NHL was a fickle business when John first joined. Injuries were abundant, trades happened more often than you thought they would, and at weird times. Hell, people lost their teeth all the time in hockey. It was a weird sport, but for three years you and John had made a place for yourself in Pitt.

John had just signed a six year contract extension with the Penguins a year and a half ago– so, yeah, you were still in denial about leaving Pittsburgh. It just didn’t make sense and you couldn’t wrap your brain around it.

You had packed up in what seemed like lightning speed, ditched the town that you knew, and now you’re arriving in Jersey. You don’t know anyone or any places except your new apartment complex, your new home.

You’re cranky because you’ve been in the car for six hours. Not because you hate New Jersey and everyone there for uprooting your life in a mere instant.

Obviously.

John has been a saint about the move and the trade. It’s not his first– since he was originally drafted with the Oilers, he’s been through this process before. The difference, as you’ve reminded him multiple times now, is that he never played with the Oilers. He was picked, but he went to college. Then, he went to Pitt. And Pitt, John, was home. Not New Jersey.

That’s the gist of the same argument you’ve been having with your boyfriend over the past week or so. It’s never escalated because John is patient with you and so great, but you’ve noticed the tick in his jaw when you huff and puff and tense up in his arms. You don’t want to be angry at him, of course you don’t, because you know that it’s not his fault he was traded. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles. However, his presence has been a reminder of the fact that you were so happy in Pennsylvania and you’ve been nothing but bitter about New Jersey.

And now, standing in your empty apartment with a frown on your face, John has reached his limit.

He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and one of your hands finds its way to his curls.

“Thank you for coming with me,” John murmurs into your ear, another kiss adorning your neck.

You scrunch up your nose and side eye him. “Duh,” you reply. John knows that you two have been together long enough that you’d damn near follow him to the ends of the Earth, even if the end of the Earth is in New Jersey.

Your response causes him to chuckle, kissing you again. He turns you in his arms and smiles down at you.

You glare, pouting, but John can tell that you’re more upset than angry. It’s been a lot of change over the past few days, and even though you’ve been a little bit of a brat, your behavior has been justified. John’s heart clenches a bit when you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

It’s quite the sight– a sweet, long embrace between partners in their newest home.

At least, it’s sweet until John ruins it.

“I have an idea about how we can make this place feel a little more… homey,” John says. You know the lilt in his voice by heart, having been with him for years.

Pulling away, you roll your eyes and making sure John sees, knowing exactly where this is headed. You play along anyway. “What’s your idea?”

John grins and whispers conspiratorially, “We need to christen the apartment. It’s not a home until it’s been christened.”

You hold back a laugh, but a smile slips through. “We don’t have a bed yet.”

“We don’t need a bed,” John says. He slides his hands down to your hips and walks forward, only stopping when your back hits the wall and he’s crowded into your space. His head dips down and he mouths over your jawline. “I can fuck you right here, against this wall.”

“Mmm, dreamy,” you quip, your hands smoothing over John’s shoulders. You tilt your head back so he has more access to your neck and he rewards you by sucking a hickey near your pulse point. “You really know how to woo a girl, Johnny.”

John’s hips press against yours and you can already feel him stirring in his pants, growing harder as he continues to suck bruises along your skin. His hands have found your waist and hold onto you desperately. His lips make their way to yours and you share a brief kiss before he pulls away. “Just want to make my girl feel better,” he says, blinking innocently at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

Oh, how you fall for those eyes over and over again.

You draw out a sigh, looking around the apartment. One of your hands returns to John’s curls and pets through them, making him wait for your response. John, patient as always, waits for your response with an attentive smile and a tiny tilt of his head. His eyes rake over your face, taking in all of the details. His thumb comes up to your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in for a kiss.

You offer your lips up willingly, letting him control the pace. When he pulls away, you relent. “I guess we can christen the apartment,” you faux-complain, like it’s a job to keep up with John and his libido.

John growls, teeth finding your bottom lip. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be a little more enthusiastic,” he teases, sneaking his hands up your shirt and lifting it over your head. He tosses the fabric behind him. Out of sight, out of mind.

You hadn’t worn a bra today, since all you had done was sit in the car all day, and John reaps the benefits of that fact almost immediately.

He latches onto your chest, licking over one of your nipples and pinching the other. You pull on his hair, arching your back away from the wall. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you puff out your chest, chasing the sensation of his tongue swirling against the peak of your nipple. He switches sides, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Johnny,” you say, and he smiles against your skin. You bring him back up to your lips, groaning when his tongue finds its way into your mouth and makes contact with your own.

He runs his fingers all over your body, cupping your breasts and tracing your sides. He takes a handful of your ass and squeezes, making you jump against him. His length is fully hard now, still pressing into your hips, and he breathes out a moan when you roll your hips, grinding against him.

You tug at his t-shirt, a wrinkly old stained thing from college, and he pulls away from you just long enough to get the offending clothing over his head before reconnecting your lips.

Now, your hands are the ones roaming his body, mapping his details through feel alone. He’s always been lean, but his skin is warm against yours and he’s defined in all the right places. He’s also soft and solid and he moves with your hands, making sure you’re always touching him in some way. You place the flat of your palm against his stomach, and the other against his chest, and you can feel John’s heart beating underneath your touch.

John sinks to one knee, pulling your shorts down and kissing over your stomach as he does. He removes your shorts and your panties, leaving you bare against the wall. He holds you steady, completely unnecessarily but sweet nonetheless, helping you step out of the clothing. He kisses his way back up your body.

Pecking your lips, he runs a finger through your folds. “So wet,” he mumbles into your mouth, pride filling his tone. He brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, then traces his tongue over yours. You can just barely taste yourself and it makes your knees a little weak.

You lean into him, pulling him close. John works his finger back into you, pumping it slowly into and out of your entrance. It’s barely enough contact, barely fulfillment, and it isn’t long until you beg John to add another finger.

You’re scrambling, holding his bicep with a vice grip as he hikes your leg up onto his hip to give himself more access. You’re fucking against his hand, chasing the feeling of the orgasm that’s just out of reach, and it makes your eyelids flutter shut.

You moan aloud when John crooks his fingers and traces the spongy spot inside of you, teasing it. When you open your eyes, you find his trained on your face, lips parted and eyes wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, seeing you come apart on his hand.

“Please,” you breath out, voice cracking. You know you can come anytime, whenever you’re ready, that you don’t need permission, but you need John to give you just a little more.

“Touch your clit for me, baby,” John replies, kissing just under your earlobe.

You reach around and pet over your bundle of nerves, the contact making you clench down on his fingers. John groans at the feeling, sagging against you. You’re trapped between the wall and his warm, solid, strong body.

“Make yourself come,” John encourages, voice soft. “Wanna see you.”

A wanton whine rips from your throat as your climax overtakes you. You arch into John as much as you can and he brings his mouth to your nipple once again, sucking harshly as the waves of your orgasm overtake you. It elongates it, makes your mind reel with pleasure, and you’re shaking in John’s arms by the time you come down.

He kisses you until you’re on solid ground again, the hand that’s not covered in your come crading your face. The other hand pushes at his shorts until they’re low enough that he can kick them away, then he does the same with his boxers. John grinds against you, his cock twitching against your oversensitive folds, but not breaching your entrance just yet.

He rubs himself against you until you pull away from his kiss and blink up at him, eyes hazy. Both of your hands find his cheeks and you smile at him, a little dopey. He returns the smile, goofy and oh, so pretty before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, rolling his hips forward again with a bite to his bottom lip.

You nod, a quiet “please” falling from your lips. Your arms loops around his neck again and John brings his hands to your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you in every room of this apartment,” John promises, lining himself up with your entrance. You sink down on him as much as you can, as soon as his tip pushes into you. “Make you come over and over again, until you love our new home–” He thrusts his hips forward. “Just as much as you love me.”

“Impossible,” you reply. “Love you too much.”

John grins, a hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the wall. “We’ll see.”

He drills into you, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the empty apartment. It seems to echo off the walls, surrounding you. John’s grunts and moans fill your ears, and your whimpers fill his. He bites your neck, then soothes the skin with a pass of his tongue, letting his saliva cool over your throat. It’s almost as satisfying as the weight of his hand would be.

He fills you so well, and he’s pent up, having been waiting to fuck you for hours. His favorite way to satisfy you, to make you content, is to fuck all of the negativity away and make it so your head is full of thoughts about him and the pleasure he’s giving you, nothing more and nothing less. The move was the perfect excuse to fuck you hard and fast and dirty, the way John knows you love.

As evidenced by your walls clenching down around him, the wet slick dripping from your cunt and gathering at the base of his cock. God, if he can get you to come before he does, he’ll have you lick it all off until his come paints the back of your throat.

Just the thought has him fucking you harder, faster. You’re barely able to make any noise because it’s just so good, and John relishes in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back. Back in its favorite place, one of your hands pulls on his curls, grip so tight that his head has to follow.

John brings both hands to the globes of your ass, leaning into you so that your back against the wall supports you both. He presses into you, fucking so deep that he swears he can feel the tip of his cock against your cervix with each thrust.

You cry out, tensing against him as he fucks you through a second orgasm, your legs shaking around him. You’re breathless and despite the overstimulation, you’re still fucking down onto him, rolling your hips to meet every thrust.

John ditches his other plan on a whim, burying his face in your neck and allowing his hips to stutter, his warm seed shooting off inside of you. You moan aloud at the feeling and John almost buckles, and would have if the wall behind you hadn’t been holding the both of you up. He catches his breath, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck his come deep inside of you, feeling the way your walls drag against his shaft.

“So good,” you sigh as John lowers you to the floor.

He slips out of your warmth with a wince, his cock softening. His mouth waters as he watches the come slide down the inside of your thighs, a milky mixture of both of your releases.

You laugh a little at the feeling, dragging your hand over the skin to stop the flow and licking the liquid off your palm to clean yourself up.

John groans at the sight. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” he complains. “I can’t go again yet.”

“Mmm,” you hum around your fingers, drawing them out of your mouth with a pop that has John wilting. You smile, sickly sweet and teasing. “Just like at home. Nice to see that a change of location doesn’t affect your refractory period.”

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#john marino #john marino x reader #john marino x y/n #john marino x you #john marino smut #jm6 #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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dead3ve · 10 months ago

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Steven Meeks x fem!reader

Summary: Steven Meeks and some other Welton academics are present at a competition they have been winning for 5 years. Welton lost the History prize to another private school, housing young women, breaking Welton's winning streak. One of the women makes Meeks lose all concentration, causing Welton also lose the Mathematics award as well.

Warnings: reader uses they/them pronouns, referred to as a female, girl, women. Meeks is pining. No use of y/n.

The hall was loud. Meeks was sweating. The noise wasn't helping him solve difficult equations. With time running out he was growing nervous. Restless. He was the math genius at Welton, and he was struggling to even think. Gerard Pitts and Richard Cameron were doing more than he was.

The hall, where the competition was taking place, was asked to quieten down. A man who was round and grey-haired was talking into a microphone. He announced "The Excellence in Historical Writing award goes to the Ladies' College. We ask for two student representatives to approach the front to receive their award."

The hall erupted into applause. The Ladies' College table began to holler and cheer for their friends who stood. One of the two who stood wore the dull, navy-blue uniform of a lengthy skirt and boxy button up shirt with a heavy blazer and made Meeks turn as red as his hair. Their joy and confidence that radiated off of them made Steven feel the same way. Once they were at the stage holding the award and smiling for a photo, Meeks smiled too. The hall was quiet at that point. Quiet enough for Meeks to hear a faraway "Thank you." from the awarded girl and snickering from Pitts who was sat next to him.

Meeks stomped on his foot under the table.

Cameron was sick of his teammates being distracted by things as simple as girls. "If you're so interested in her, go and say something. You're not doing anything here, Meeks." Cameron was frustrated, talking through his gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Meeks. I'll go with you. They're at the food table with their friend." Pitts offered, attempting to sooth Cameron's insult.

Steven weighed the options out in his head. He could nail the exam, which he wasn't sure he could do because of the distracting beauty of the History girl. Or he could attempt to meet the girl, and maybe, with some charm win her over. Both, to Steven Meeks were very poor options at the time, but he decided the latter had slightly better odds with Pitts by his side.

Pitts and Meeks stood up from their table and approached the food tables where the girls prepared slices of cakes and tea for their table. Pitts went to make a cup of tea, putting him in place for a conversation.

"How is your team looking for math?" Pitts asks the girls' friend as he stirs sugar into his tea.

The girl Meeks failed to acknowledge began to talk animatedly to Pitts about the poor questions chosen for the examination. Pitts became too engaged in conversation to help Meeks, leaving the red head to stand awkwardly in front of the girl who drew his interest initially. Meeks couldn't bring himself to say anything. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe her presence was so important and radiant that it shouldn't be ignored with talk.

"You're here for math?" A quiet question left the girl's mouth. They also held a cup of tea, and they took a sip after asking the question.

"Yeah, yes." Meeks fumbled his answer. Wringing his hands tightly as he spoke. "Did you do the History essay?"

They smiled at that. They blushed and looked at the wooden floors beneath them. "Yes, I did." They looked back up at Meeks with excited eyes, "Sad I took the Welton crown?"

Meeks smiled at that. They were playful. Steven let out a small laugh of relief. "No not at all. Suits you more than us." Meeks looked at the girl, cautious of their reaction, hoping he hadn't put his foot into his mouth like he so often did.

They smiled, blushed then took a step closer to Meeks. "What's your name? I'd also like to know if you're bribing the math win from us, considering you are charming me." They spoke, knowing their words, confidently.

Meeks blushed, turning red again. He began to laugh at their statement. "It's Steven Meeks and this isn't a bribe. My friends saw me looking at you and made me leave the table because I was slowing them down. You were a pretty distraction." Meeks couldn't believe what he was saying. He was not one to do this.

Suddenly, the girl pushed her arm towards Meeks, with a pen extended in their other hand. "Can I have your phone number, Steven? The school one or your family's one. Do you board at Welton?" All of these fretful questions were asked as Meeks quickly wrote the school's phone number down onto their skin in a hurry to calm them. He gently let go of their arm and held the pen back at them.

"I board at Welton, but we leave the campus on weekends. Maybe you'd want to join me one weekend?" Meeks was asking a girl out on a date. He was red in the face and still sweating. It was no longer loud in the hall though because all Meeks could hear was their acceptance to the proposed date.

Cameron suddenly turned Meeks with a firm hand gripping his shoulder. "What are you doing Meeks? We just lost the Math prize. Dr Hager is going to kill us." Cameron was angry at Pitts but more so Steven. He began to drag Meeks away from the two girls by the collar of his blazer. Cameron couldn't handle more homework. Meeks could, if he got to see a pretty girl because of it.

#steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dead poets #dead poets fanfic #dps #fem!reader

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saturn-projector · 2 months ago

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don't smile 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 charlie dalton smau

"don't smile because it happened, baby, cry because it's over"

⋆·˚ ༘ * summary ; charlie dalton is in love with his best friend yn. has been, actually, ever since they drunkenly made out at one of chris noel's parties three months ago. as they are closer than they ever have been before, holding hands, flirting and acting like a couple, an unexpected rift is driven between them.

chris and knox have broken up and yn, being chris's good friend, is asked to fake date her to make knox jealous. not telling charlie the truth to keep the reality of her and chris's "relationship" secret, he has to watch as the two of them grow just as close as yn and charlie have been before.

yn stands before a difficult choice. will she tell charlie the truth and win him back or will she explore whatever is blossoming between her and chris?

⋆·˚ ༘ * tropes ; best friends to lovers, mutual pining, will they/won't they?, fake idgafers (I saw them yearning), angst, miscommunication, fake dating, wuh luh wuh

⋆·˚ ༘ * pairings ; charlie dalton x fem!reader, chris noel x fem!reader, knox overstreet x chris noel

⋆·˚ ༘ * faceclaim for yn ; hanni from newjeans (mostly)

0,, profiles

1,, bowling

2,, watch ur back

3,, girls night and steven

4,, doomed to the prison of chalance

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viceroywrites · 1 month ago

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deja vu - part seven (ford)

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader / ford x fem!reader

choose your own adventure / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part six | part eight

interested in the stan route? click here for masterlist.

The ambient sounds of the Mystery Shack on a weekend were quite serene.

The sound of Abuelita’s telenovelas playing in the background, the creaking of the worn wood floors each time the younger set of Pines twins walked across their room, the top popping off a can of Pitt Cola before Stan takes a loud sip.

Thankfully, the layers of dirt and concrete muffled the sounds of bickering that echoed through the basement that would quickly unravel the calm atmosphere upstairs. The raised voices barely audible through the vending machine that sits in the gift shop.

You were on your fourth day of watching back your memories with Ford. To say it was a rollercoaster each day was an understatement. It was a 50/50 toss up on how the day would end. Half the days you and Ford would end up not talking to each other until the next day. The other half, you felt yourself getting closer to him, gracious for his presence and adding more clarity to the scenes that played before you.

Today was an example of the former, your arms crossed over your chest after asking Ford to pause the tape after a particularly nasty fight the two of you had just played.

“Y/N, your interpretation of what I said was completely off-base.” Ford snaps, getting a bit defensive despite his promise that he would not try to defend his actions this time around. He couldn’t help himself, his mind defaulting to the logic that made the most sense to him.

Old habits tend to die hard, it seems, when it comes to your dynamic with Ford.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know there were multiple ways to interpret you telling me that I was clueless. Please enlighten me.” You say with a sardonic tone, your expression sour. These past few days, it has started to dawn on you that Ford’s knowledge was somewhat limited in the emotional department.

Ford pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Listen, if you just give me a chance to explain myself, what I meant to say was that you were clueless in the sense that you didn’t understand what I was up against at the time. I wasn’t commenting on your intelligence.” Ford attempts to assuage the impact of his words.

“Stanford, how is that any better?” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I knew you felt like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders, but that doesn’t excuse you taking it out on others, the very people trying to help you!”

“I didn’t ask for you to help me! It was your choice to give up your dream job back then! I didn’t need you!” A flurry of biting words leave Ford’s mouth before he can think about the consequences and if he truly even meant what he was saying.

‘Fine, I don’t need your help!’

‘I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!’

Those phrases echoed over and over in your head the past few days, sending you right back to the foggy memory of what you had surmised to be your last interaction with Ford.

“Then what’s the point of me being here, Ford? If you didn’t need me then, you clearly don’t need me now.” You ask, about to turn your heel to head upstairs.

Your own ego would not allow you to just stand there taking Ford’s harsh words, and you had learned over the last few days that sometimes you had to choose your battles with the stubborn intellectual.

Ford freezes at your response, the weight of your words hitting him like a bucket of cold water washing over him.

The words you uttered were eerily similar to the exact words you had uttered when you left him thirty years ago.

‘Then what’s the point of me being here, Ford? Let me just get out of your way then.’

His hand reaches out, just like it did all those years ago, grasping your wrist firmly. You turn to look back at Ford, about to snatch your hand away, but the familiarity of this scene stops you.

You’ve been here before, haven’t you?

Old habits do die hard.

“I-I’m sorry.” Ford says, “I didn’t mean what I said..”

“Then why say it?” You ask, hurt evident in your tone. “Why ask me to come with you all those years ago to Oregon if you didn’t need me?”

“Because… I did need you. It’s just my pride got in the way, I wanted to do it on my own. The concept of asking for help was hard enough and I didn’t want to feel useless to you… in the past, I had to be pushed to a breaking point to ask. Even then… I had a hard time accepting help, believing that I had all the answers.” Ford rambled out in the best words he could find at the moment to explain himself.

You needed a moment to digest his explanation, still needing time to work through the pain his words had caused in the first place.

“Mind if we call it for today? I know we only got through four hours of memories but I just need some time to think it over, Ford.” You ask, hastily pulling your hand away from Ford’s grasp.

Despite being in such a rush to get your memories back a few days prior, you were at your limit already for today.

Ford’s hand falls limp at his side, admitting defeat. Despite his stubbornness, he knew it was not optimal timing to be insisting you push onward especially when he was on thin ice in regards to how you felt about him at the moment, “Very well, let me know if you change your mind.”

After making your way up the staircase, you push against the vending machine door, closing it behind you. The gift shop is empty, Melody and Soos closing down the Shack for the day to visit her family up in Portland. It was surreal that just a few days ago, this was just a silly tourist trap on the side of the road.

You know you were getting dangerously close to the end of your final fight based on the loose timeline Ford had explained to you and the amount of dreams you had checked off in your journal. You had to admit that you were terrified about how you would feel about Ford at the end of this all, especially after forming bonds with the people who were dearest to him.

On your way back to your room, you run into Dipper who is on his way out to keep Pacifica company during her shift at Greasy’s. “Oh, are you and Grunkle Ford already done for the day, Y/N?” He asks in surprise. You pause, not knowing what to say. Dipper’s expression morphs into one of concern, “Is everything alright between you and Grunkle Ford, Y/N?”

You let out a sigh before looking down at Dipper, running a thumb over the crease in his brow, “We’re having a bit of a disagreement so to speak, but we’ll work our way through it. Don’t worry too much about it, Dipper, go enjoy your day.”

Dipper nods in understanding, waiting for you to slip back into your room before texting his sister.

‘Grunkle Ford’s having trouble in the romance department. Think Y/N’s mad at him.’

The sound of hurried footsteps stomping down the stairs follows soon after Dipper hit send, Mabel clearly in the middle of changing before receiving the text as her upper half is a sweater and the bottom half is still in pajama pants.

“You know you could have waited until after you finished changing to come down.” Dipper chuckled but he was quickly silenced by Mabel grasping his cheeks and squeezing them together. “Matters of the heart will always take priority! What happened?

“I dunno, I just ran into Y/N and she said that they were having a bit of a disagreement.” Dipper explained, using air quotations to emphasize his point, “But I’m guessing Grunkle Ford and her got into a fight over a past memory, kinda like how Grunkle Stan wouldn’t talk to Great Uncle Ford for like a day whenever he would remember something from their past fights.”

“Oh jeez, Great Uncle Ford… he’s so smart but he really sucks in the emotional department.” Mabel sighs, shaking her head. “I’ll see if I can bug him into spilling the details. Mind getting…”

“‘I was wrong’ flowers? Way ahead of you.” Dipper mutters, writing down a reminder for himself before adjusting the lumberjack hat that sits atop his head, “How do I look, by the way?”

Mabel’s eyes assess her brother up and down before snagging the hat off his head, fingers extending out to comb through the messy hair. “Lose the hat.” She pauses for a second before a wide grin spreads across her features, “Wait, aren’t you seeing Pacifica today?”

Dipper’s eyes widen, a red hue forming at his cheeks before he quickly snatches his hat back, running out the door before Mabel can start her relentless teasing. Mabel makes a beeline to the vending machine in the gift shop, pressing the buttons on it to gain access to the basement below.

Meanwhile, Ford is pacing back and forth, stroking his chin in contemplation. “What could I have said differently? Was it how I phrased it? Perhaps my tone?” Once you had left up the stairs, Ford had spent every second since trying to understand and break down the errors in his current approach to repairing your relationship. His success rate with this method has been only 60% so he needed to understand the flaws within it.

The issue was probability worked best with experiments, not human emotions.

“Great Uncle Ford?” Mabel’s voice shakes Ford out of his ruminations, causing him to pause. Ford answers, “Yes, dear. Is there something wrong? Do you need to use my grappling hook again?” Mabel shakes her head, hopping up on the counter and taking a seat.

“Great Uncle Ford, I’m here to offer some advice. It sounds like you’re having a bit of trouble in the romance department.” Mabel says, glancing over at the machine that played back the memories. Ford blinks in surprise, “What makes you say that? Did Y/N tell you about our quarrel earlier?”

“Well, she told Dipper you guys were having a disagreement when Dipper asked why she wasn’t in the basement.” Mabel admitted, “What did you say?”

“I’m not sure if I should be discussing these matters with you, Mabel.” Ford said with hesitancy, not wanting to unload his relationship history to his fourteen year old grand-niece. Mabel put her hands on her hips and looked at her great uncle with skepticism, “Come on, Great Uncle Ford, think about who realistically you can get relationship advice from.”

Ford ponders his options.

Dipper was a pre-pubescent teen who skipped showering most days and could barely form a sentence when he first met him.

Fiddleford was divorced and spent most of his time nowadays tinkering with computers and strumming on his banjo.

Stan’s track record includes six ex-wives and called marriage ‘the biggest scam to exist.’

Even if Soos was here and despite him being in a healthy relationship, he would most likely make an analogy to some video game that would go right over Ford’s head.

“Alright, I may have tried to excuse why I called her clueless in a fight we had thirty years ago.” Ford admitted with a sigh of defeat. Mabel stares at Ford for a long time before yelling, “What could possibly excuse that, Great Uncle Ford?!”

Ford winces at the harsh tone, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, not excuse, per say. I was merely trying to explain to her that when I said she was clueless, I was not implying she was unintelligent. She is far from that. What I meant was that she did not understand the pressure I was going through at the time.” Mabel slaps her forehead, this was going to be way harder than she anticipated.

“Great Uncle Ford, while I’m glad you don’t think she’s an idiot, you pretty much tried to mansplain Y/N’s memories to her.” Mabel says to which Ford blinks owlishly, “What is mansplaining? Is that a new technique for explaining one’s perspective?”

“No, no! Mansplaining is when a man tries to explain something to a woman that she already understands.” Mabel tries to hurriedly explain. Ford nods his head in understanding, “I see, so by doing this mansplaining technique, it resulted in me invalidating her feelings, correct?”

“Exactly… lemme ask you something, Grunkle Ford, when you two would get into fights in the past what would you do to apologize?” Mabel asks. Ford thinks over the question before his shoulders drop, “In all honesty, that’s probably why she left me in the end… I would rarely apologize, sweeping our problems under the rug and forgetting about it the next day so I could focus on my research.”

“Well, that was towards the end, right? How about when you two were in college? Ya know those silly fights couples get into when there’s a miscommunication or someone did something that annoyed the other?” Mabel says, hoping that thinking back to the days before Bill had entered the picture would give her some ideas.

Ford glanced over at the box of items that you had taken from Fiddleford when you had first arrived, reaching in to grab the polaroid of the two of you. His thumb runs over the worn-out photo, trying to recall how things were before he had gotten too consumed by his quest for knowledge.

Ford’s knuckles rapped on the door of your dorm, his head hanging down in regret.

Being in a relationship was new found territory for Ford, and unfortunately, studying about the biological responses to attraction did not give him any more knowledge on how to navigate them.

What Ford thought was the two of you exchanging in a dialogue about a common interest was actually him taking over the conversation in excitement and you sitting there in silence before excusing yourself with the excuse of needing to work on an assignment Ford knew wasn’t due for another two weeks.

Soon after, he went back to his dorm room and consulted with Fiddleford who immediately called out his friend for his error and insisted Ford go over to apologize and offer a peace offering of sorts.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, flowers or somethin’.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what type of flora she likes, F.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be flowers. Just somethin’ she likes, S.”

You hear a knock at the door, lounging on your bed on your stomach as you flip through a reading you have for class. Your eyebrow raises since you aren’t expecting company but figure it might be your roommate accidentally forgetting her key.

“Coming!” You call out, tossing the book on the table and opening the door, “Jeez, this is the third time this semester you’ve forgotten your key, we might have to just staple it on you.” You chuckle, unlocking the door and freezing as you are greeted to the sight of Ford blinking back at you.

You stare back for a moment, your hand starting to slowly shut the door, “Look Ford, I just-”

A muffin is suddenly thrust into your face.

The same muffin from the dining hall you get as a treat after a difficult exam.

You stare at the muffin, then back up at Ford.

“I apologize for taking over our conversation earlier. I may have gotten passionate about the topic and got swept up in the excitement but I would love to hear more about your thoughts.” The apology flows out of Ford’s lips before you can even react, “I offer your favorite muffin as a token of my apology.”

You can’t help but find his apology and earnest effort to trek over to the dining hall endearing, a laugh of disbelief escaping your lips. You slowly open the door, taking the muffin from Ford’s hand before pressing a kiss against Ford’s cheek.

“Alright, I accept your apology muffin. Now come sit on the bed and let me lecture you about what we were discussing prior.”

A warm smile spreads across Ford’s features, taking a step through the door, “Lecture away, my dear.”

“Hello, Earth to Grunkle Ford!” Mabel calls out, waving her hand over Ford’s gaze that breaks his wistful daze. He looks over at Mabel with a sudden grin, “I have an idea! Do you have any idea on how to make muffins?”

At this point, you had stared at the ceiling in contemplation enough times to memorize the patterns of the wood above you. You wanted to give Ford the benefit of the doubt, trust that he had changed for the better after all these years. However, your body goes into fight or flight over the stinging words, remembering the harsh bite and coldness behind them.

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts, sitting up quickly. You had an inkling that Ford was on the other side of the door, but figured you could not keep hiding in these four walls forever. You make your way to the door, opening it barely to allow your head to peek through, “Listen, Ford, I-”

You are suddenly cut off by a freshly baked muffin and a bouquet of irises thrust in your face, six fingers gripping both of them tightly.

Your gaze trails upward, seeing Ford staring back at you with an earnest expression across his features. The sight of the muffin brings back the memory of Ford’s method of apologizing before the two of you ended up in Gravity Falls.

“I know I apologized earlier, but I felt this was a more sincere way of expressing it.” Ford said, watching you take the muffin from his hand. He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as he awaits your response, “I don’t expect these gifts to take away the pain my actions caused earlier, but I recognize that what you’re probably wanting from me isn’t an explanation for the past, but an apology.”

You glance down at the muffin, letting out a chuckle of disbelief as you shake your head, “Do you think you’ll be able to do that moving forward, Stanford? Because I want to believe you… I really do but we’ve been down this road before, haven’t we?”

Ford feels a bit foolish to think that this gesture would fully assuage your concerns, lowering the irises. At this point, he was desperate to at least not have the door slammed in his face and so he ended up suggesting, “How about this? For today, let’s forget about the memories. Let’s go anomaly hunting, take your mind off things and have a little fun.”

You pause at the suggestion, the gears turning in your head.

The small gap of the door opens to reveal yourself fully rather than peaking your head out, and in turn, you open a bit of yourself to Ford.

“I think that’s a great idea…” You say, “I would rather us make some new memories together as well instead of just spending all our time looking at the past.”

Ford smiles at your approval, “I have just the idea of where to take you.”

You chuckle at Ford’s excitement, taking a bite of the muffin and staring at it in surprise, “Did you buy these from a bakery?”

Ford looks almost offended at your comment, crossing his arms defensively, “I’ll have you know I spent the last hour and a half going through trial and error to make those.”

You let out a chuckle, reaching forward to take the bouquet of irises as well. Your fingertips curl around Ford’s briefly as you do so, “Well they’re delicious. Now stop pouting and let’s get going.” You brush past him gently to call out, “Mabel, is there a vase where I can put these?”

Ford’s cheeks burned red at your playful call-out and the brush of your body against his, his brain buzzing.

–

For being such a logical person, Ford threw caution into the wind when it came to anomaly hunting; it seemed as you stared down the depths of the cave that Ford had barely convinced you to follow him into.

Now he was asking you to jump down there with him at the promise of seeing something ‘truly extraordinary.’

“Stanford Pines, if I end up impaled on a stalagmite, I will haunt you for the rest of eternity.” You say in defiance, crossing your arms.

Ford lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head as he extends his hand outward, “I assure you, there are no stalagmites below. I’ve been in this cave before, there are stalactites though.” He gestures to the formations of rock that jut out from the cave ceiling.

You let out a sigh, “What’s down there better blow my socks off,” before taking Ford’s hand. “I can assure you it will. If not, I owe you a view of Aurora Borealis out here.” Ford says. He clears his throat, pulling you closer to his frame, “You may have to hold onto me, I don’t want to risk you slipping from my fingertips.”

You decide to tease him a little bit, “Jeez, Ford, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were finding an excuse to get closer to me.” Ford stammers, “That’s not my intention at all! I just happen to have very overactive sweat glands and-” You silence him by wrapping your arms around his frame, looking up at him expectantly. “R-Right, off we go.”

Ford grabs the grappling hook from his trenchcoat, pointing towards the tip of the stalactite. Once it’s securely hooked onto the ridges of the rock, Ford wraps his arm around your waist tightly, looking back at you for the green light, “On 3, we jump together, okay?” You nod in understanding, your heart rate picking up in anticipation.

And not because of Ford’s firm grip on your waist, all six digits sinking into your side.

“One,” Ford starts the countdown.

“Two,” You say with hesitancy, watching both of your feet get closer to the edge.

“Three!” Ford lets out a loud ‘hup!’ before jumping off with you, laughing boisterously as you scream at the sudden drop.

The two of you swing back and forth for a bit before landing on a rock that is wide enough to land on and low enough to the ground that you can step down easily. Ford waits for you to drop first, making sure you land safely before swinging one last time to unhook off the rock, landing on his feet next to you.

After dusting himself off, he glances over at you with an excited grin, “That wasn’t terrible now, was it?” You shake your head in disbelief, your hand over your chest as you try to calm your racing heart, “I have to be honest, I would have never pegged you to be a risk taker like this. You used to be terrified of heights when we were dating, I couldn’t even convince you to get on a ferris wheel.”

Ford pauses at the mention of your past dating history, knowing you usually skirt around the topic before retracting the grappling hook, “Well, I guess being on the run in another dimension for twenty years made me throw more caution into the wind. Can’t afford to really be afraid of heights when jumping off a structure to evade the Interdimensional Police.” You blink, the realization finally settling in that despite some things remaining the same, Ford has likely changed as a person drastically.

“It should be this way, watch your step.” Ford hops down, extending his hand to help you down. You take his hand, his fingers enveloping yours securely to give you something to balance your landing. You follow behind Ford closely, glancing around the dark cave that is only illuminated by his flashlight. Your hand grips tightly onto the back of his trenchcoat, worried that you may lose him in the darkness. Ford smiles at the sensation of you tugging on it, leading you further in.

Suddenly, you see a glimmer of light through a narrow passage amidst all the darkness, and Ford glances back at you, “Keep holding onto my coat and close your eyes, it’ll be worth it.” You can’t help but feel flustered at Ford noticing how you were holding onto him. Your eyes quickly shut, gripping the fabric tighter and putting your trust in Ford.

“You can open your eyes now,” Ford says, stepping aside to let you take in the view for yourself, shining the flashlight to illuminate the room. You are greeted with hues of vibrant green reflecting back at you, large pillars of crystalized gems surround you and Ford. You take in the view in awe, walking up to a pillar and running your fingers over the hard ridges. You look back at Ford, “Is this-”

“Trust me, I was just as surprised as you to find it down here.” Ford smiled, knocking against the surface of the brittle glass. “I tested it just to be safe and it’s in fact moldavite.” Ford got the reaction he was hoping for, seeing you all starry-eyed and giddy as you walk from pillar to pillar to examine the gem, “This is astounding, Ford. You do know that it’s been only found in Europe… I can’t believe that it’s here, let alone this amount of it.”

“A true geological finding, isn’t it? I’m truthfully astounded that a meteor penetrated this deep.” Ford chuckles. “Oh, I wish I had my excavating tools… I guess I’ll have to savor this moment, engrave it into my memory.” You sigh, looking around before blinking as you see a stone rolling out of nowhere, seemingly on its own. “Uh Ford…” You say, tugging on the sleeve of his trenchcoat. “Hm?” Ford glances over to see it rolling and watches in astonishment as two more stones follow behind it out from a nearby moldavite pillar.

“Any clue what’s happening here?” You mutter, inching backwards towards the narrow gap you entered through. Ford shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on them as they roll closer, “Not in the slightest, I’ve never encountered a creature like that in all my years here.” You quickly tug Ford back with you, both of you squeezing into the passage as you watch from a safe distance.

The stones roll to the center of the room before a set of stubby limbs pop out from them, the dirt falling to reveal a pair of eyes on each one. They walk around, looking at the bases of the moldavite pillars for something. “My god, this is incredible. Those must be golems… I knew they had to be real..” Ford mutters mostly to himself, rustling through his coat to pull out his journal.

“Ford, is now the time to be really logging them in your journal? Couldn’t they be dangerous?” You say cautiously.

Ford grabs a pencil, glancing back and forth between the golems and his journal as he sketches out an outline of their frames, “Highly unlikely. I mean they’re quite small.. Also, within folklore, they’re neutral beings.” Tiptoeing to see over Ford’s shoulder, you watch their movements before glancing down to see Ford’s sketch, “Wow… I forgot how amazing you are at realism drawings.”

Ford’s cheeks flush at the compliment, shaking his head, “It could use some improvement here and there, I’m better at sketching anomalies than people truth be told.” The both of you look up to check where the golems are and blink when they are nowhere to be found. “Where did they go?” Ford said, closing his journal suddenly and his hand reaching towards his magnet gun. Your breath hitches as you peer down at Ford’s feet, seeing the small figure staring back at you and Ford.

“Um… Ford..” You whisper, tapping his shoulder and pointing downward. His brown eyes flick downward before he backs up, his arm in front of you as if to shield you. The golem blinks in alarm at the sudden movement before reaching behind it to hold up a shard of moldavite towards the two of you. You both look at each in surprise before you point at yourself, “Are you giving it to us?”

The golem points directly at you, offering it up higher. You push past Ford, and kneel down to take it from the golem’s bumpy palm and tilt your head in curiosity, “Did you overhear what I said earlier?” The golem nods in response before the two others peek their heads out from the pillars that frame the passageway.

You grin as you glance back at Ford who looks simply in awe before turning back to the golems, “Would you mind if my friend here got a closer look at you all?”

It’s night time once you and Ford make your way out of the cave, using the flashlight to illuminate the path back to the Mystery Shack.

“Just when I think I’ve uncovered all the oddities that this town has to offer, it proves me wrong.” Ford says with a grin, feeling accomplished with today’s anomaly hunt.

“I’m sure you saw way more during your travels over the past year.” You say, toying with the moldavite in your fingers.

Ford shakes his head, “We encountered some along the way, a Kraken here, a siren there. Nowhere in the world is an anomaly hotspot like Gravity Falls is.”

“I think I’m starting to understand why you were so enamored with this place other than the research opportunity…” You say, peering up at the sky that is now lit up with stars and Ford chuckles, “You sure you’re not just saying that because of the huge moldavite stash you now have access to?”

“The moldavite stash is just the cherry on top. I don’t know what it is, but this town has a charm to it. It’s so warm and inviting, full of mysteries just waiting to be discovered. It feels… like home.” You sigh wistfully. It takes you a moment to realize Ford had stopped in his tracks, gazing at you with yearning. “It was home… for the both of us. Once Fiddleford abandoned the research… and you left, it honestly stopped feeling like a home, and more like a prison. A time capsule of my mistakes.”

You pause, a lump stuck in your throat. You weren’t certain what to say in response to that. Ultimately, it was Ford’s actions - his dismissal of his friend’s concern and callousness towards your pain - that led the two of you to where you stood today. However, seeing the changes that Ford had made today was a reminder that the man before you could grow and learn from his mistakes.

You walk over to Ford, taking his hand and placing the moldavite in his palm. He looks at you in surprise as you take his fingers, enclosing it around the gem, “Ford, you beating yourself up over the past isn’t going to solve anything. If you can’t even forgive yourself, how am I supposed to forgive you?” You sigh, staring up at him. “Let this be a symbol of moving forward, leaving past assumptions and old habits behind us as much as we can. When you finally forgive yourself, you can give me back the moldavite.”

Ford stares at you, lost for words at your bold proclamation. The guilt over the weight of his actions and their impact on the people he loved had been heavy on his shoulders, and just your words alone began to lift that burden from him.

He squeezes the moldavite in his palm before shaking his head with a chuckle, “I truly don’t know how you do it.” You tilt your head in confusion and Ford continues to elaborate, “You’ve always had this knack for seeing right through me, understanding me more than I understood myself. At first, I thought you had to be a mind-reader of some sort.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, “Only you would think I am a mind-reader by understanding basic human emotions, Ford.” Ford smiles fondly at you as you laugh, the most beautiful symphony he has ever had grace his ears, “I quickly dispelled that theory after running a test where I just thought about string theory for a good minute.”

The two of you continue your walk back to the Mystery Shack, Ford slipping the moldavite into the inner pocket of his coat for safe keeping. It’s quiet in the Shack when you both enter, snickering quietly when you see Stan passed out on the chair in the living room with the light of the TV being the only source of light.

Ford stops in front of your door, “Thank you again for forgiving me today.” He pauses before suggesting an idea he had thought of while pacing back and forth downstairs earlier today, “I know you mentioned wanting to put the past habits behind us… I think me being in the room creates a scenario in which I feel the need to defend myself. How about you watch the rest of the tape on your own… and then once you’ve processed everything, come to me… tell me what I did, how it made you feel… and I’ll listen to it all and see how I can make it up to you?”

You’re surprised by Ford’s suggestion but smile as it’s a clear sign of Ford trying to compromise and be more flexible which he very rarely did in the past. “I think that’s a great idea… keep my moldavite safe for me, alright?” You say with a soft smile. “I promise I will. Well, I’ll let you get some rest then, good night.” Ford is about to turn his heel to take his leave but stops at the sudden sensation of you giving him a quick hug.

“Good night, Ford.” You say quickly, a flush in your cheeks at your impulsive decision as you quickly retreat behind the door. Ford finds himself silent the whole way back to the basement, his face beet red once he finally makes it downstairs. He reaches to grab the moldavite out of his inner pocket but his fingers brush against something else.

Something that made all the heat from his cheeks drain.

Ford’s six fingers reach to grab the capsule he had forgotten about all those days ago, caught up in his desire to get all your memories back that he had forgotten about.

‘Y/N Memories 2.’

The words felt like they were taunting him, egging him on to see what lies ahead for you to uncover.

Curiosity got the better of him as he placed the capsule into the slot, watching the static fizzle before the memories played out before his eyes.

His fists clench at what he witnesses, uncertain of what emotion he’s even feeling.

Before he can take a moment to process his emotions, his hand reaches for the phone on impulse, ringing up his friend for answers.

“Stanford, it’s almost my bed-”

“Fiddleford, I know it’s late but it’s an urgent matter. Can you swing by tonight?”

#gravity falls #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fic #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #ford pines x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines

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moltisantiii · 27 days ago

Text

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

Cliff Booth x Actress! Reader

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

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

Warning : None

Word Count : 3k

Next Chapters : II, III

Click here for Ao3 Ver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're an actor ?"

"Stuntman." He answered with his signature grin.

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

"Driving around my boss."

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

"Why are you askin' so many questions ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do you know I'm famous ?"

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

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

"It isn't ?" Cliff teased.

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

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

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

"Y/N L/N."

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

"Seems like it."

"They're still filming that playboy movie ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#fanfic #fanfiction #once upon a time in hollywood #cliff booth #brad pitt #cliff booth x reader #x reader #quentin tarantino #x fem!reader #1960s #ouatih

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