allthingsfangirl101

[allthingsfangirl101]

Long Time, No See – Glen Powell

I have worked on NCIS costumes for about six years/seasons. I didn't have to come up with new looks. I simply built looks based on past seasons. I walked into work at the start of a new episode, the way I've done hundreds of times. This time, however, a ghost was on set.

For a second, I couldn't move. I stood at the edge of set, watching him. I watched him walk through set and tried to think about the last time I had seen him. As soon as the memories started playing in my mind, I pushed them away.

I turned and tried to scurry away, but bumped into Paulee, a.k.a. Abby.

"Whoa, Y/N," she giggled. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"No, you're not," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well. . . It's just. . . I wasn't. . ."

"Hey, Y/N?"

I let out a sigh of relief when Sean, A.K.A McGee, came to my rescue. "What can I do for you?"

"There's something wrong with the extra pocket thing you sew into all our suits for our badges."

I laughed when I turned around to see him holding open his suit coat and playing with the pocket.

"Don't mess with it," I chuckled as I walked over and took off his coat. "Give me five minutes to sew it back on." I started to walk away, but paused. "Come by the costume trailer when I'm finished."

Before they could ask me why I wasn't coming back to set like usual, I rushed off. A few minutes later, Sean came and got his suit back. Instead of waiting on set and fixing small wear and tear issues, I focused on finalizing a few costumes for the background actors for this week and next week's episodes.

A little before we normally break for lunch, Michael, A.K.A. DiNozzo, and Sean walked into my trailer.

"Hey, guys," I greeted. "Did you two tear your suit coats while rough-housing again?"

"No," Sean laughed.

"That happened one time," Michael defended them.

"If you're not here for a fix, why are you here?" I crossed my arms over my chest and studied them.

"We were wondering. . . We were worried that you. . ."

"Why haven't you been on set all day?" Michael cut off Sean with a look on his face that told me he knew the answer to that.

"I had to finish finalizing some costumes," I barely answered.

"You sure?" Michael pushed. "You wouldn't have been avoiding set all day because of this week's special guest star, would you?"

"What special. . ." I tried to ask, acting like I didn't know who he was talking about.

"Wait," Sean said, slowly catching on, "Y/N, do you know the kid playing the younger brother, Sergeant Evan Westcott? Glen Powell?"

I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with them. I leaned against the counter and prepared myself for their follow-up questions to my simple answer.

"Yes," I admitted. "I knew Glen Powell."

"Why did you say it like that?" Sean asked gently.

"I said it like that because I knew him before he went off and worked to be famous," I explained. "We grew up together, actually."

"Did you guys have a big falling out or fight before he left?" Michael asked.

"No," I stuttered. "Nothing like that."

"Then how come you ran away instead of talking to him?" Sean asked.

I stood up and started to busy myself. "You guys are overthinking this," I tried to brush off. "Even if Glen and I left things on an awkward note - which we didn't - seeing someone you know after years of not talking is awkward. Plus, I had work to do. I didn't have time to have a tearful reunion. I still have a lot of work to do, and you two are needed on set."

As they walked out, I heard Michael whisper to Sean, "Did she say 'tearful reunion'?"

"Yeah," Sean mumbled. "What the hell happened between them?"

"And why do I suddenly not like that he's here?"

Once the trailer door shut behind them, I allowed myself to slip back into those memories I pushed away before.

~ ~ ~

I had my arms wrapped tightly around myself as I sat on Glen's bed and watched him pack his bag. He was excitedly talking about his role, explaining to me everything that happens in his first big movie role in "Spy Kids 3: Game-Over".

I nodded along and smiled whenever he looked at me, but it was getting harder and harder to push down the achy feeling I had. I glanced over at the clock and let out a sigh of relief when I thought of an excuse to leave.

I mean, I wanted to leave, but I also didn't want to leave. This could very much be the last time I saw him. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Until he said. . .

"And who knows?" He asked, practically jumping on his toes as he threw some graphic t-shirts in his suitcase at the edge of the bed. "This could open the door to another movie or a TV show. And from there? This is going to be awesome, Y/N. Just you wait, in five years, I'm gonna have a kick-ass career. I'm going to be the next Tom Cruise!"

"I'm sure you will, Glen," I said, hoping he didn't catch the slight break in my voice. "Look," I continued, clearing my throat, "it's getting late. I promised my Mom I could be home for dinner."

"Oh," he said, stopping packing. "Okay."

I got off his bed, and we had a long staring contest. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't decode. Glen broke the contest by walking over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I threw my arms around his neck. I held him tightly, forcing myself not to cry.

"I'm gonna miss you, Y/N," he whispered.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Glen," I whispered back.

When I broke the hug, I didn't look at him as I left his room. I closed his bedroom door behind me and leaned against it. A single tear fell as I said what I wish I had the guts to say to Glen before he left, and I never saw him again.

"I love you."

~ ~ ~

I was snapped out of my memories when the trailer door opened and closed.

"Michael, I told you I was. . ."

My sentence got stuck in my throat when I turned around and was face-to-face with Glen.

"I was told you could. . . Holy shit," he chuckled when he looked up from the shirt he was wearing and saw me. "Y/N?!"

"Glen," I stuttered. I gasped when he ran to me and threw his arms around me. He picked me up and spun me around. When he put me down, he started asking me a lot of questions.

"You work here? For NCIS? That's awesome! When did you start working here? I remember you always talked about designing clothes. What made you change and start designing costumes for a TV show? Not that this job is any less than what you dreamed about growing up. Wow, I am just word-vomiting all over you right now, aren't I? Sorry, Y/N. It's just really good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, Glen," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and not looking directly at him. Instead, I was looking at something over his shoulder, so it looked like I was looking at him. It's an acting trick.

"How long have you been working on NCIS?"

"A few years," I shrugged. After a few beats of silence, I asked, "So, is there something you needed from the costume department?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "Apparently, in the fight scene between brothers, we got a little too into it and ripped off the buttons. They sent me to you. Can you fix it?"

I examined his shirt and saw that he tore the section of the flannel that had extra fabric to keep the buttons on.

"It tore right down the seam," I said, mostly to myself. "It's an easy fix."

I turned around and grabbed the matching thread and threaded my sewing machine. I turned around and gasped when Glen was right in front of me, now shirtless. He was holding his shirt out for me with his smile that I'm sure made all his fans fall head over heels for him.

I cleared my throat and took his shirt from him. I felt his eyes on me as I walked over to my sewing machine and sat down. I started fixing his shirt as I struggled to ignore him watching me.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "earlier you said you've worked on NCIS for a couple of years."

"Yeah," I said absent-mindedly.

"How'd you get the job?" He asked when I didn't continue.

"After college, I bounced around to a few lesser-known shows before landing here. I trained with the first costume designer for a season before she retired."

"That's awesome," he chuckled. "Where'd you go to college?"

"The Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA," I spouted out semi-automatically.

"You've been in California all these years?" He asked, his tone of voice slightly changing. I glanced up at him and caught a small look in his eyes. I forced myself to go back to working on his shirt.

"I have."

"Why didn't you ever call me?" He asked softly.

"Figured you were busy," I shrugged. "As was I."

He didn't continue the conversation as I finished his shirt. Once it was done, I cut the thread and stood up. I gasped when Glen was in front of me.

"You fixed it," he said but not like a question.

"It's my job," I shrugged. Without thinking, I helped him put it on. I moved back in front of him and instantly started buttoning his shirt. I froze when I realized what I was doing. I looked up at him, and it felt like everything stopped.

"Sorry," I stuttered, quickly pulling my hands away. "I'm used to. . . Usually, the actors have makeup and hair ladies working on them, as I'm helping them get dressed. It's easier to button their shirts for them. But you can do it yourself."

I turned around and busied myself by cleaning the table. "Y/N. . ." He started, but a PA ran into the trailer.

"Y/N, did you fix his shirt?" I opened my mouth to answer him, but he kept going. "You need to fix his shirt, Y/N. He's needed on set, like now. So, please stop flirting and fix his. . ."

"Hey," Glen cut the PA off. "Y/N already fixed it."

"Good," the guys sighed. "Let's go."

He turned on his heel and left, leaving me and Glen in the thick-tensioned trailer.

"Y/N. . . I. . ." He stuttered.

"You should go," I cut him off. "You're needed."

* * * * *

I spent the rest of the day in my trailer. No one had any major costume issues, so I wasn't needed. I busied myself with sewing buttons back on, fixing zippers, and rearranging the supplies.

At the end of the day, I heard things start to wind down. I waited until I could barely hear people before leaving. I grabbed my bag, locked the trailer, and headed to my car in the parking lot.

"Glen," I gasped when I looked up and saw him leaning against the front of my car. "What are you. . ."

"You've been avoiding me."

"No, I haven't," I said a little too quickly.

"Yeah," he laughed as he stood up and walked over to me. "You've been avoiding me all day."

"I've been busy," I tried to brush off.

"Come on, Y/N," he chuckled. "Admit it. You've been ignoring me."

"I really haven't," I lied. "I've been incredibly busy. Some of our interns think they can fix issues, but they end up just making them worse and. . ."

"Y/N," he cut me off. "When I came into the costume trailer, you wouldn't even look me in the eye."

"I was busy," I stuttered. "When I'm busy, I tend to get distracted."

"Distracted? Y/N, you won't even look me in the eye right now."

"It's because it's too painful," I whispered, my eyes glued to the ground.

I held my breath when his shoes came into view. He gently grabbed my arms to try to get me to look up. It took everything in me to fight the urge. I completely lost control when he used his finger to slowly lift my chin.

"Why is it too painful to look me in the eye?" He asked, his voice soft.

"Because," I admitted slowly, "I know you're going to leave again."

"Y/N," he stuttered.

"And I can't watch you walk away. . . Not again." He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "So, instead of watching you walk away, I'm gonna walk away this time."

I got in my car, and Glen didn't stop me from pulling out of the parking lot. Tears slowly streamed down my face as I drove home. I walked up to my apartment, unlocked the door, and walked in. After locking the door, I hung up my keys and kicked off my shoes.

I was about to go to my room to change, but I suddenly couldn't move. All the pain that I pushed down the last time I saw him came bubbling up. I leaned against the front door and slowly slid down it. I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them into my chest. I leaned my forehead on my right knee and let the sob rip out of my throat.

Once the tears were gone and I had nothing left, I shakily stood up. I felt numb as I slowly got ready for bed. I threw on my loose tank top and shorts. I threw my hair into a messy bun and took off what little makeup I had on.

I went to my fridge and almost grabbed a beer. At the last minute, I walked away empty-handed. I sat on my couch and turned on my TV. Before I could find something to numbly watch, someone knocked on my front door. A lot.

I sighed and forced myself to get off the couch. I went to answer the door, and my heart jumped into my throat when I opened it.

"Glen, what are you. . ."

"It wasn't easy," he blurted out.

"What. . ."

"Walking away from you," he clarified, "all those years ago. It wasn't easy leaving town, leaving you behind."

"Why are you. . ."

"I didn't want you thinking that leaving you was easy," he said, finally seeming to calm down. "It wasn't, Y/N. I swear. I thought about you every day. Hell, I still think about you. There have been so many times when I got good news or I got a role, and I wanted to call you. I would've, but I only have your old home phone number. The truth is, I hated leaving you, Y/N."

We stared at each other and a thick, silent tension fell between the two of us in my doorway. As much of a relief his admission was to me, it didn't make the pain go away. All that I could think of was. . .

"You're still going to leave," I whispered. "When we're done with this episode, you're going to leave."

"I'm here for two episodes," he tried to smile.

I kept talking, ignoring his attempt to lighten the mood. "Either way, you're going to leave. And I'm right back to where we were all those years ago - watching you walk away from me."

"What if it wasn't a permanent walking away?"

"Glen, you're not making any sense," I sighed. "What are you talking about. . ."

He cut me off by grabbing my face and pressing his lips to mine. It took a second for the shock to wear off. Once it did, I slowly kissed him back.

"What I meant," he whispered as he broke the kiss, "is that even though I have to walk away after these two episodes, I'm not walking away permanently. Now that I know you're in LA, we can arrange to see each other more. We can pick up where we left off."

"As friends?" I asked, my voice dropping along with my eyes. Glen used his finger to make me look back up at him.

"Do I need to kiss you again?" He lightly teased.

"Maybe," I smiled, my face burning. He leaned in and gently kissed me. I was the one who deepened the kiss. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to me.

"I have no intention of going back to being just friends," he said, breaking the kiss. "With both of us being here, we don't have to walk away from each other. In fact, we could start dating."

"Is that what you want?" I stuttered.

"I don't have any intention of walking away from you," he whispered. "Ever again."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Much Needed Help – Jake Seresin

The worst thing in the world is having to go around, constantly looking over your shoulder. The only thing worse than that is having to keep why you're so scared from your flight crew you think of as family.

But I couldn't tell them. They wouldn't understand, but they'd want to help. And if they helped, they'd get hurt.

I was not about to let that happen.

When I walked into the bar, I instantly scanned the men in the room. Once I was sure that he wasn't here, I let out a small sigh of relief. Some of us went to the bar to order our first round of drinks while the others went and grabbed the pool tables.

Throughout the night, I kept my eye on the door. Whenever someone walked in who looked slightly like him, I jumped and recovered with a cringe. Luckily, my friends had no idea.

About an hour into our night, things turned for the worse. The guys were playing pool while Phoenix and I were sitting at a table, making fun of them.

I stood up and walked toward the bar to get Phoenix and me another round. I froze the second my eyes landed on him.

As if perfectly timed, Jake walked by. Without thinking, I grabbed him and slightly spun us so his body was blocking me from his view.

"Hi, Y/C/S (your call-sign)," he said slowly. "Can I help you with. . ."

He cut himself off when he looked down and saw the fear in my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"What's going on, Y/N?"

"I can't. . . He's not. . . By the door. . . If he sees me. . ."

Jake wrapped his arms around me and looked over his shoulder, making sure to keep me hidden.

"Who is he?" He asked without turning back.

"Red shirt. . . Leather jacket," I answered, pressing my forehead to his chest. He turned around, subconsciously tightening his arms around me.

"One question," he whispered as he leaned back. I looked up at him and waited for him to ask his question. "Has he ever hurt you?"

His question made my heart jump into my throat. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to stop myself from crying. It was useless, of course. The second my eyes filled with tears, the look in Jake's eyes darkened with understanding.

Jake grabbed my hand and led me over to Phoenix. He leaned in and whispered something to her. She turned, and the second she saw me, her eyes softened. She instantly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I let her lead me to a table hidden by the pool tables and the bar.

Phoenix told Bob to get us drinks as I watched Jake. He angrily walked over to Rooster and the other guys. He pointed at him, and the guys' faces changed. I held my breath as they walked towards him.

Bob walked over with our drinks, but I didn't touch mine. Instead, I sat frozen and watched the guys argue with him. Phoenix reached over and gently grabbed my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bob repositioning. He was standing by the table, slightly in front of us. My heart softened when I realized he was standing, ready to intervene if he came near us.

My breathing became staggered as he got in Jake's face. There was some shoving before Jake got the upper hand and grabbed him. The others backed him up as Jake literally dragged him out. Jake said something to him after throwing him out of the bar.

As the guys walked back into the bar, looking pretty damn proud of themselves, I felt my heart slowly slide back down into my chest. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. When I opened my eyes, the guys were standing around the table, looking at me.

"You okay, Y/C/S?" Rooster asked. I nodded, but it was clear the guys didn't believe me. Jake walked over and knelt in front of me. He reached over and gently put his hand on mine that was wrapped around my un-drunk beer.

"Y/N," he whispered, "why don't I take you home?"

"I'm fine," I stuttered, shaking my head and pulling my hand out from underneath his. I stood up and smoothed out my uniform. No one stopped me as I walked out of the bar, but I felt their eyes on me the entire time.

When I got home, I numbly walked up to my apartment. I locked the door behind me and couldn't resist looking out the front window to check the street. I'm glad I did because he was standing across the street, his eyes on my window.

I gasped and quickly closed the curtains. With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone and held my breath as I waited for him to answer.

"Hey, Y/N," Jake said softly.

"Jake," I gasped.

"What's wrong?" He instantly asked.

"He's here," I said, choking on my sob.

"What?" Jake asked through his teeth.

"He's right outside my apartment, Jake. You have to come over. Please. I don't know. . . I can't. . . Please, Jake."

"Listen to me very carefully, Y/N," he said calmly. "I am on my way right now. I can be there in less than ten minutes. Until I get there, lock the door and your windows. Do not open the door unless it's me."

* * * * *

As soon as Jake and I hung up, I relocked the front door and closed all my curtains. Every once in a while, I couldn't help but check the window. Whenever I looked outside, he was still there.

Eight minutes later, I looked outside to see Jake running toward him. I watched as they fought. This time, they actually fought, but it was clear that Jake was stronger. Well, angrier at least.

Jake soon took him down. Once he was unconscious, Jake looked up at my window. Even from all the way up here, I could tell that his eyes softened when he saw me. I backed away from the window when he sprinted into my building.

As soon as he knocked on the front door, I ran to it and swung it open. Once it was open, I threw my arms around him.

"It's alright," he soothed, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I'm here. And he's unconscious."

We stood there in each other's arms for a few beats. Finally, when my nerves were slightly calmer, I spoke up.

"Will you stay with me tonight? Please?"

"Of course," he whispered. With one of his arms still wrapped around my waist and me still tucked into his chest, he led me inside. He closed the door and led me over to the couch. I whimpered when he walked away from me and went to lock the front door. When he turned around, his eyes softened when they landed on me.

He quickly walked over to me and wrapped me in a hug. We sat down, still in each other's arms. I expected him to say something to me, ask me who he was, but he didn't. Instead, he reached over and grabbed the remote. He turned on a random channel but lowered the volume.

We sat, watching some random TV movie for about twenty minutes before Jake couldn't hold back anymore.

"Y/N," he started softly, "who was that guy at the bar? I don't think I've ever seen you that scared."

"I don't want. . ." I tried, but Jake wasn't about to let me off that easily.

"Please, Y/N," he cut me off. "I can't keep you safe if I don't know who or what I'm protecting you from."

"His name is Kyle," I admitted, my eyes already filling with tears. "We were high school sweethearts, but once we got to college. . ."

"He changed," Jake sighed, tightening his arms around me.

"He started controlling everything about my life," I said, struggling more not to break into a sob. "He started by limiting my access to friends and controlling what I wore when we went out. He took me to school and, at first, I thought he was being sweet or protective. That is, until he saw me talking to a guy in my study group as I walked out of class. He jumped out of his car, ran toward me, and pulled me away from him. That night was the first time he hit me."

"Y/N. . ." Jake stuttered.

"I know I should've left him," I continued, the sob officially escaping. "I was too scared. And he promised me that it was a one-time thing. I know I should've left him when he hit me again."

"Y/N," he tried to say again, but I cut him off.

"I did leave him," I gasped as I pulled out of his hold and turned toward him on the couch. "I swear, Jake, I did leave him. But he. . . He found me again. I don't know how. I even transferred schools. One day, I was walking back from class and I saw him again. I ran into the gymnasium and stumbled across a Navy recruiting table at a career fair."

"You joined the Navy to get away from Kyle?" Jake asked gently.

"Partially," I admitted, looking down at my hands. I started nervously playing with my fingers. Suddenly, Jake reached over and put his hand over mine. I looked up at him and finished my confession, "To be honest, I've been interested in the Navy since my cousin joined. I've always wanted to be a pilot and figured the Navy was the best company to fly for. Plus, I figured the Navy could keep me safe from him. I guess I was wrong."

My sob escaped again. Jake instantly pulled me back into his chest and wrapped his arms around me.

"The Navy can keep you safe from him," he tried to reassure.

"Obviously not," I mumbled. I stood up and started pacing back and forth. "What am I supposed to do, Jake? I am halfway across the world, on a ship 90% of the time, constantly surrounded by Navy officials. How the hell does he keep finding me?! I'm never going to be safe from him, will I? He'll stop at nothing to find me. I'll never be safe."

Jake jumped up and blocked my nervous pacing path.

"Y/N, look at me," he said softly and yet firmly. "Kyle is not going to lay another finger on you. I promise. You are safe."

With tears streaming down my face, I shook my head. "I'll never be safe from him."

Jake gently reached up and grabbed my arms, slightly rubbing them. "You are safe," he repeated. "As long as I'm around, that son of a bitch will never touch you again."

"You won't always be here," I whispered, my voice breaking.

Jake took a step toward me and gently grabbed my face. I didn't say anything or stop him as he leaned in. My heart jumped into my throat when he gently pressed his lips to mine. He broke the perfectly sweet kiss far too soon.

"You have my word that I will always be here for you, Y/N."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Hard To Earn – Charlie

Trigger Warning: mentions of abuse

Charlie's POV

I was finishing Rick's report when I heard the familiar sound of heels clicking across the office floor. I looked up, but ended up doing a double-take when I saw it was Y/N.

Y/N has worked here just as long as I have. She started working here a week after I did. And yet, it's like we're strangers. Y/N doesn't really talk to anyone. When I try to talk to her, she doesn't maintain eye contact and answers in short responses.

Part of me hated that she was so shy around me. All I've done is try to be nice and show her she didn't have to be uncomfortable with me. Ever since I started working here, I've tried to connect with Y/N. I've learned a little about her, but mainly through her boss and other coworkers.

Since the moment I met her, I've been intrigued by her. There was something about her. Something that told you there was a whole side of herself that she hid from the people she worked with. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone got to see that side of her.

It took a few months before I finally connected the dots. Every once in a while, she starts to ramble. She calls it nervous rambling and usually rushes away. The weird thing is, her nervous ramblings are actually accurate. If you follow them, the things that she is saying are smarter than most of the venture capitalists in our firm.

I walked into the copy room to see Y/N already using it.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Oh," she said, surprised I was talking to her, "hi, Charlie."

I leaned against the counter and patiently waited for her. I tried not to watch her, but my eyes kept going over to her.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm almost done."

"No worries," I smiled. "Take your time."

She looked over her shoulder at me and sent me a hesitant smile back. When she looked away, I saw how tense her shoulders were. I wanted nothing more than for her to relax.

"How's your day going?" I asked to start a conversation. I smiled when she turned around again. "Hopefully, Renee isn't running you around too much."

"No," she said, turning away from me so I wouldn't see her blush. "Nothing I can't handle."

"How's the Washington Traders - Lucas Company account going?" I asked, working hard to continue this conversation.

"It's a tricky acquisition," she shrugged as she counted the files in her arms to make sure she had all of them. "Washington's head guys are refusing to give up any potential shares. Lucas's head guys want complete control. Honestly, these two companies are polar opposites of each other. Their customers don't even run in the same circles. I think this is only going to go poorly for both groups. What they should do is Washington Traders should buy out Lucas Company, but there's no way Lucas is going to go for that."

"What do you think the deal flow is?"

She looked up at me, and I saw embarrassment fill her eyes. She opened and closed her mouth, struggling to recover. She didn't have anything to recover from, of course.

"I just mean. . . I wasn't. . . I was just guessing. . . Don't listen to me."

"But you were right," I smiled.

"I don't know what I'm talking about," she rushed out before hugging her files to her chest, putting her head down, and walking away.

"Clearly, you do."

* * * * *

"I saw you talking to Y/N," Gracie, our receptionist, said as she walked into the copy room.

"Well, tried to," I shrugged. "Every time I talk to her, she stutters quietly and rushes off."

"Y/N is just shy."

"She's worked here just as long as I have," I said, leaning against the counter. "Is it me? Does she not like me or something?"

"It's not that, sweetheart," she tried to comfort me. She sighed before walking over to me and lowering her voice, "There's something about Y/N you need to understand."

"What?" I asked, subconsciously checking the door for listeners.

"When she first started working here, Y/N was dating this accountant-type," she explained. "As soon as I saw him with her, I knew he was no good."

"No good?" I asked, my heart jumping into my throat.

"You should've seen the way that boy treated our girl," she said, her tone slightly changing. "Always correcting her, snapping at her, insulting her. And when I found out he had. . ."

"He what?" I pushed. "Gracie, what did that guy do to Y/N?"

"He beat her."

It felt like someone has sucked all the oxygen out of the room. "He what?!" I asked through my teeth.

"We didn't hear about it until the next day," she sighed. "Apparently, Y/N's roommate walked in on him kicking her in the ribs. She was taken to the hospital, and he was arrested."

"Good," I mumbled as I turned around and left.

A little while later, I was sorting through Rick's phone messages at my desk when I saw Y/N walk past me. The longer I watched her, the angrier I got at that piece of garbage of a man.

How could anyone lay a finger on a perfect girl like her?

That question made me jump up and chase after her. When I caught up to her, she was in the break room.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" She asked slowly.

"About your abusive ex-boyfriend."

The tea bag she was holding fell out of her hands. I started to say something else, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the break room. She pulled me into an empty office.

"How do you know about that?" She asked. As I looked into her eyes, I saw something. It wasn't anger or even embarrassment. It was more like fear.

"I was talking to Gracie," I hesitantly started to explain. Y/N let out a soft whimper before starting to pace back and forth.

"She swore to me she wouldn't say anything to anyone."

I went to grab her arm but stopped when I remembered her boyfriend was abusive. Instead, I stepped in front of her, blocking her pacing path.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm not going to tell anyone else."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I gently asked.

"Not much to say," she shrugged, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm sure Gracie already said too much."

"Why did he beat you, Y/N?" I asked, taking a protective step towards her.

"He tends. . . Well, he. . . Peter never liked it when I started going on one of my 'knowledge rants' as he called them," she admitted.

My heart sank when she looked away to hide her embarrassment from me. Little did she know, she didn't have to.

"Whenever I started, he'd yell at me," she said, her voice breaking. "He'd tell me to shut up because no one could follow me anyway. He'd always say he never got me."

"He's wrong," I said a little quickly. "He's completely wrong, Y/N. He doesn't deserve your knowledge rants. You shouldn't hide how smart you are."

"No one wants to listen to them," she said, repeating her ex-boyfriend's words.

"I do."

She looked up at me, surprise in her eyes. "No," she whispered, "you don't."

"Yes, I do," I repeated. I paused before sighing, "But I wish you had told me."

"Why?" She asked, her voice still soft.

"Because I would've helped you."

"With what?" She stuttered when I took a step toward her.

"Anything," I said, my own voice dropping. "Breaking up with him, packing up your stuff and leaving him, protecting you from him. Anything."

"But I'm not. . ." She stuttered as she took a step away from me.

"Not what?" I asked her to stop her from leaving.

"You don't. . . We're not. . . It's not something you have to worry about. It's not your. . . I'm not your concern," she finally got out.

I stood frozen as she ran out. When I finally chased after her, she was gone. I quickly chased after her, not bothering to wait for the elevator. When I got outside, I saw her waiting for the light to change.

"Y/N!" I yelled, making her turn around.

"Charlie," she stuttered. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the street. Once she was a safe distance, I grabbed her other hand.

"You are my concern," I corrected her earlier statement.

"No," she stuttered. She tried to pull her hands out of mine, but I tightened my hold.

"You are," I pushed. "I like you. So, so much. You're not hard to get at all. You're hard to earn. It's so much better."

"You like me?" She asked.

My heart sank when I saw the worry and doubt in her eyes. I let go of her hands and gently grabbed her face. I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. It took her a second before she started to kiss me back. When she did, I let go of her face and wrapped my arms around her waist. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against hers.

"I do," I whispered. "I really, really do."

"I like you, too, Charlie."

"Y/N, I promise that I will never treat you the way your ex did," I said, studying her eyes. "I will always take care of you. I will always protect you."

Y/N stood on her toes and cut me off by pressing her lips to mine. I instantly started kissing her back. When I broke the kiss, I leaned my forehead against hers.

"You know," I whispered, "you shouldn't be an assistant."

"What?" She asked, leaning away from me.

"You're too smart for that," I said. "You're too smart for all of this."

"To be honest," she sighed, "I'm not even sure I enjoy working here."

"Then you should find something you do enjoy," I said quickly. I paused before adding with a playful smirk, "Maybe I can help you."

Y/N giggled as she slid her hands up her chest and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

"I'd like that."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Hypothetical – Glen Powell

I walked through set, my eyes focused on the tablet in front of me. I went through my checklist to make sure all actors were dressed and ready to film.

"Hey, Y/L/N!"

I looked up to see Glen Powell getting ready for his scene. I wrapped my arms around the tablet and smirked as the assistants sprayed him down.

"What's wrong, Powell?" I asked, fake-pouting.

"This is your doing," he said, pointing his soaked finger at me.

"Hey," I said, putting my hands up in defense. "I just design the costumes. I had nothing to do with the decision of having you drenched from head to toe."

"But you enjoy it," he smirked.

"Sure, I do," I shrugged, catching him off guard. "I enjoy you being miserable."

I sent him a mocking pout before turning on my heel and walking away. I didn't sit and watch the scene. I never do. Instead, I focused on finalizing a few costumes.

This isn't the first thing I've worked with Glen on. My first big job was as the costume designer for Scream Queens. It was a lot of fun dressing the girls in unique and expensive-looking clothes.

I wasn't assigned to focus on the boys' costumes, but I often helped the woman in charge when she was falling behind or running late. Occasionally, I helped finalize Glen's costumes.

As they filmed, Glen and I interacted more and more. But it wasn't in a friendly way or even in a flirty way. It seemed like the only way we ever interacted with each other was through sarcastic or insulting comments.

What's weirder is the fact that nothing he said ever embarrassed me or hurt my feelings.

"Y/N, wait!"

I turned to see one of my assistants running toward me. "What's wrong?" I asked, ignoring Glen's eyes on me.

"We have a slight problem. . ."

"What problem?"

"It's with Glen's outfit."

I walked over and stood in front of Glen. "What did you do?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Other than freezing my ass off and looking fine as hell in this outfit, nothing."

"You're welcome for that," I scoffed, turning back toward my assistant. "What's wrong with his outfit, Emily?"

"His skin is wet, but the fabric doesn't look wet," she pouted out. I turned back toward Glen and examined his shirt.

"How have you been applying the water?" I asked, not looking away from his flannel.

"The spray bottles," she said, anxiously playing with her fingers. I walked over to the table of my supplies and grabbed what I needed. When I returned to them, I dumped the bucket of water on him.

"There you go," I said, handing Emily the empty bucket. "He's wet now."

I jumped when he blew air out of his mouth, making water spray out at me. "Thanks!" He said sarcastically. I sent him a wink before walking to some of the extras. As I checked their outfits to make sure they were appropriate for a tornado, I felt someone's eyes on me. I looked over my shoulder to see Glen still watching me.

* * * * *

I worked on the extras as Glen and Daisy filmed their scene. I added a few final touches to each extra before they entered camera view. The actors were rushed into the theater as water sprayed and things flew in and out of frame.

I was briefly distracted as I watched the fake trolley speed towards Glen. He fell to the ground and was pinned.

"Tyler!" Daisy yelled as she chased after him. She fell to her knees and acted as if she were struggling to get the beam off Glen.

"Watch out!" Glen yelled as a piece of the water tower fell. "You go to get inside!"

"I'm not leaving you!" Daisy yelled back.

"Kate," he said, changing the tone of his voice as the water tower began to fall.

Just then, Anthony wedged a piece of wood under the bean and helped Daisy get Glen. Once they got him out, the water tower broke and water came rushing out at them. They jumped up and ran into the theater.

"Cut!" Lee Isaac yelled. "Great job, guys. Glen, you okay?"

"Yep," he laughed. I couldn't help but notice his eyes search the crew before landing on me.

"Y/N," Lee Issac said, turning my attention away from Glen.

"Yeah?"

"Can you add fake blood to Glen's pants after the make-up team works on his leg?"

"Of course," I nodded. I turned and went to my table. I grabbed the paint and a few paint brushes. I stayed at my station as the make-up ladies touched up his make-up and added to his leg.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Glen joked as he walked over to me.

"Oh, believe me," I scoffed, "I wouldn't wait for you for longer than thirty seconds. You're not worth it."

"Neither are you, darling," he smirked.

"Good to see we're on the same page." I grabbed my paintbrush and knelt in front of his legs.

"Well, damn, Y/L/N," he laughed. "Never thought I'd have you in this position."

"There's not enough money in the world for me to be in this position in the way your dirty mind is envisioning," I instantly shot back as I started painting his torn jeans.

"You'd be so lucky," he said, his voice deep. I stood up, not realizing how close we were.

"I'm a lot luckier, a lot more than you know."

Something on set broke, the sound echoing throughout the studio. Whatever broke just happened to land near us. On instinct, Glen grabbed me and moved me out of the way.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, his arms still tightly wrapped around me.

"Yeah," I said shakily. I looked up and realized we were too close. I knew I should back away, but for some reason, I didn't. "Are you okay?"

"I am perfect," he smirked, "as always."

"You are far from perfect, Powell."

"Right," he elongated. "We can't all be as perfect as you, Y/L/N."

"You said it," I smirked.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked, slowly letting me go and scanning me.

"Of course," I nodded. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he smirked. "Can't have the only woman who knows how to properly dress me getting hurt on the job."

* * * * *

I took Glen protecting me from the accident on set to open my eyes. It was something that once you realize it, you can't un-realize it. And once you realize it, you can't just go on living life normally. I walked into his trailer, my heart in my throat. It took him a second to realize I was there.

"Y/N," he said slowly. "Are you. . ."

"I have a hypothetical for you," I cut him off.

"Okay."

"Hypothetically," I shakily started, "a woman who has loathed you and relentlessly mocked you for what you do walks into your trailer. . . and tells you she actually loves you. . . What do you do?"

I held my breath as I waited for him to say something. Anything. I wanted to run away. I wanted to leave and never come back. I wanted to erase everything I've ever said to him and every time we've ever interacted with each other.

I was about to run when. . .

"First," he said slowly, "try and start breathing again."

"And once you start breathing again?" I asked, my voice showing how nervous I was.

"Well," he said slowly as he walked over to me, "I think my mind would start going through every interaction I had with the woman. I'd go over how snippy I've been, how many times I've insulted her job, how many times I've made sarcastic comments to her, and I would shudder."

"Shudder?" I whispered, "That doesn't sound. . ."

My sentence got stuck in my throat when he took a step closer.

"I would shudder," Glen continued, "because of how rude I was to her. And I would hope that she knew it was my terrible way of flirting. And I would hope that she wouldn't think I hated her."

"She doesn't," I whispered.

"Good," he said, lowering his voice. I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as he grabbed my hands and pulled me closer. He studied me for a second before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to mine.

Glen let go of my hands and wrapped his arms around my waist. I pressed my hands to his chest as our lips moved in sync. We broke the kiss when both of us were out of breath. At first, I waited for him to break the silence. When he didn't, I did.

"So about that hypothetical," I whispered. Glen laughed as he gently grabbed my chin.

"Not-so-hypothetically, I would be extremely relieved that you feel the same way I feel about you."

"The way you feel. . ."

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, "and not hypothetically. For real."

I felt my face burn as he stared at me. I slightly rubbed his chest as I gathered the last little bit of courage I needed.

"I love you, Glen," I whispered, " and not hypothetically. For real."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Covers Blown – Gary Johnson

"You didn't have to grab my ass so much," I said, elbowing Gary in the gut as we walked towards the truck.

"Not my fault," he said as we got in. "The guy needed to believe you were my girl, not the woman his wife hired to kill him. Besides, you didn't have to stroke my chest so much."

"Don't act like you didn't like it," I scoffed. "The woman needed to believe you were my guy, not the man her husband hired to kill her. We were covering for each other."

"I can't believe we had to go on a double-date with the couple that hired us to kill the other," he laughed.

"To be fair," I said as we got in the truck, "neither one of them knows the other hired us."

As he pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, I leaned my head against the headrest.

"You okay?" Gary laughed as he reached over and patted my knee.

"I forgot how much I hated going undercover," I sighed. "It's exhausting."

"You gotta admit it's kinda fun," he smirked. When he looked over at me, I realized his hand was still on my knee. He turned his focus back on the road, his hand still on my knee. For some reason, I didn't move it.

Halfway back to our fake house we're using for our cover, Gary finally moved his hand. I looked over at him to see him readjusting in his seat. I watched for a second to see him continually checking the rearview mirror.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, not sounding convincing at all.

"Johnson," I said slowly. He looked at me and gave in.

"Fine," he sighed. "I think we're being followed."

"What?"

I turned around and saw the GMC following us. "Shit," I mumbled, turning back around. "What do we do?"

"Just hang on," he tried to comfort. "Maybe we're reading too much into this. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they're not following us."

We waited a few more minutes. When one of us wasn't looking at the car behind us, the other was.

"Okay," he said, looking back around. "I think it's official. We're being followed."

I turned around and got a better look at the driver. "Oh no."

"What?" Gary said, glancing at the rear view mirror.

"I think I know him," I said slowly.

"What do you mean?" Gary asked, glancing at me before looking back at the rearview mirror.

"Shit," I mumbled.

"Who is he?" He asked, looking at me longer this time.

"I set him up two years ago," I sighed. "He must have traced his arrest back to me and found me."

I glanced at Gary to see him tightening his hold on the steering wheel. "It's okay," he tried to soothe. "I'll lose him."

As hard as he tried, he couldn't lose them. "Gary," I started to say, but the car pulled up next to us.

"Get down!" Gary yelled as he used his free arm to pull me down. He covered me with his body right as the guy shot at the window. Once the window was shot, the guy shot our front tire.

There wasn't anything we could do as the truck started to roll. We let out matching groans when we finally stopped rolling. My head was spinning long after the truck stopped.

"Y/N," Gary strained. I looked over at him, but there was too much blood in my eyes. "Y/N, you good? Talk to me?"

"Gary. . ." I stuttered. I felt him reach over and gently move some hair out of my face. 

"Don't move," he said quickly. I heard him struggling to get out of the truck. As he got out, I struggled to get the seatbelt undone. I jumped when my door was forced open. Well, trying to be forced open.

"Gary?" I whispered.

"I'm here," he said through the door. "Turn your head, Y/N. I gotta break the window."

I slowly did as he said. My hands were shaking as I covered my head. I jumped when he broke the window with, I'm guessing, his elbow.

"Ding dong," he chuckled. He tried to sound teasing, but I could tell he was hiding how much pain he was in. I turned back to him as he instantly reached across me, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Put your arms around me."

I did as he instructed. Once my arms were wrapped around him, he started gently pulling me out of the truck. I let out a small whimper as he carefully placed me on the ground. He took my face in his hands and started examining my wounds.

"Gary. . ." I started, but he started going through my injuries.

"You've got a gash across your forehead, which is why you can't see very well."

"Gary," I tried to get his attention.

"Possible burn mark across your chest from the seatbelt. Your shoulder looks badly bruised, maybe dislocated."

"Gary," I tried again.

"You most likely have a concussion." He grabbed his phone and called this in. "This is Johnson," he said when they answered. "Y/L/N and I were ambushed. She needs an ambulance."

"Gary," I said, grabbing his arm once he hung up the phone.

"Help is on the way," he said quickly. "You're going to be fine. Just hang in there until. . ."

"He's getting away."

"What?" He asked, finally focusing.

"The longer you're with me, the further he gets from us."

"Y/N," he sighed, "I'm not leaving you."

"You called it in," I pointed out. "Help will be here soon. Go get that son of a bitch."

* * * * *

I woke up a few hours later in a hospital room. Well, actually, I woke up to someone screaming outside my room.

"I know this is a hospital! But I am not leaving her."

I slowly turned my head and could see Gary arguing with the nursing staff. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Sir, this is a family-only. . ."

"She doesn't have any family close by," he snapped. "I'm her partner. I'm the closest thing she has to a family."

"I'm sorry, sir, but. . ."

"Just let me in there."

"I can't, sir."

"Gary," I struggled to say loud enough for him to hear through the barely cracked door. Luckily, he did. He brushed past the nurse and ran into my room.

"Y/N," he said, my name getting caught in his throat. "Are you. . . Are you okay?"

"Did you get him?" I asked instead of answering his question.

Gary laughed as he sat next to me in the chair next to my bed. "Is that really your question for me?" He smirked.

"Of course," I shrugged, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. "I need to know if I have to get out of this bed, kick your ass, and finish the job."

Suddenly, the teasing smirk on his face fell. He looked away from me and grabbed my hand, wrapping both of his around it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" I whispered back. He looked up at me, and there was something different in his eyes.

"For leaving you," he said.

"Hey," I cut him off. "I told you to leave me, Johnson. You called it in. You got me help before. . ."

Gary cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. Things slowly sped up as I gave in to him. He broke the kiss sooner than I would've liked. He leaned his forehead against mine as we caught our breaths.

"So," I said, still breathing heavily, "did you get him or not?"

[allthingsfangirl101]

*No More Secrets – Tyler Owens

Warning: sneaking around, motel sex, language

The second we pulled into the motel parking lot, I saw his signature entourage. They were sitting in the parking lot, drinking and exchanging stories. I forced myself not to look at him as I walked into the front office to check in my team and get our keys.

After checking us in, I walked out of the lobby. The second I walked out, I looked up and made direct eye contact with Tyler Owens. Tyler and I are constantly running into each other. Tyler chases tornadoes for his little YouTube channel, while I'm a meteorologist for our town's weather channel.

Two years ago, he was chasing and I was reporting when both of our vans got caught in the storm. We ended up having to take shelter in a high school. Tyler and I wandered off and ended up hooking up in an empty classroom.

After that, we ended up constantly running into each other. Whenever we did, we always found time to hook up. Sometimes we hooked up in the back of one of our vans, but most of the time we stayed at the same motels.

"If it isn't Weather Girl Y/N," he smirked.

"If it isn't Tornado Chaser Tyler," I scoffed as I walked past their trucks.

"Got any weather advice for us?" His friend, Boone, asked.

"Yeah," I said simply. "Stay out of my way."

"Or what?" Tyler challenged.

"Or I'll take you down with me."

I ignored the look in Tyler's eyes as he licked his lips. I sent him a wink before heading upstairs to my room. I unlocked my door, making sure to leave it slightly open as I slowly got settled. I could hear things start to die down outside. Once people started going to bed, I turned off the janky TV and "got ready for bed".

I walked out of the bathroom in nothing but an oversized flannel that was hanging off one shoulder. When I walked out, Tyler was leaning against the now fully open motel room door.

"There you are," he said, his voice low. His eyes slowly scanned my body. "Fuck," he moaned as he kicked off the doorframe and slammed the door shut. I smirked as he kicked off his shoes and froze.

"Is that. . . Is that one of my flannels?"

"It is," I smirked, "You left it the last time we. . . ran into each other."

"If I remember correctly," he said, choking on a moan, "we ran into each other several times."

Tyler's eyes took in every inch of me. As he examined my body, I took note of his jeans tightening.

"I've missed you."

I just smirked as I walked over to the bed and lay down. I heard Tyler let out a deep growl. I closed my eyes as I heard him take off his pants. Soon, I felt someone crawling over me. I kept my eyes shut as his hands slid up my thighs, scrunching my flannel.

"Open your eyes for me, baby girl," he whispered as he dragged his body against mine. I did as I was told and saw the heat in his eyes.

"Hey there, Chaser."

"The only thing I want to chase tonight is you, moaning my name over and over again."

I gasped when he leaned down and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck and brought him closer as I kissed him back. As our lips moved messily in sync and our hips rocked, I ran my fingers through his hair. When me doing this drove him a little too crazy, he roughly broke the kiss. Tyler moved his lips from mine to my neck.

"I hate that you make me so fucking weak," I moaned as he bit my neck.

"I love that I make you so fucking weak," he chuckled darkly. I gasped when he grabbed my flannel and tore it open.

"Fuck," he moaned as his eyes took in my bare body underneath him.

"Like what you see?" I asked, slowly undoing his flannel. He sat back, straddling me as he tore his flannel the rest of the way open and threw it across the room.

"Always."

We let out matching moans as Tyler roughly brought his lips back to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started grinding his body against mine.

I gasped, arching my back when Tyler ripped my underwear off me. I moaned as his hands slid up my bare body - all without breaking the kiss. As his tongue explored my mouth, I undid his jeans.

He broke the kiss and I watched as he stripped off his pants and boxers. He was about to get off me, but I stopped him. I sat up and made a show of reaching over to the bedside table a grabbing a condom.

"I was prepared."

"Fuck," he moaned as he switched our positions in one fluid movement. I was now straddling his bare hips. I stayed hovering over him as he slipped the condom on.

I smirked to myself when I realized the only pieces of clothing I was wearing were my bra and Tyler's flannel. There was something about this outfit that always drove Tyler crazy. He especially loved it when I was wearing his hat, but he didn't bring it with him this time.

"Are you ready yet?" I pouted. "I'm getting antsy."

"Sorry, darling," he groaned as he fixed himself. "Safety first."

Once he was ready, he leaned back against the headrest. I slowly walked on my knees until I was in the perfect position. Tyler started eagerly chewing on his bottom lip as I put my hands on his shoulders. He was about to say something, but I brought my hips down to his, making him moan instead.

He grabbed my hips very tightly as I ground my hips against his. As I continued my movements, Tyler swore under his breath repeatedly. I knew we had fallen into a rhythm when he pushed on my back, roughly bringing my chest to his face.

Tyler started knawing on my skin, going around my bra as I rocked my hips against his. When he couldn't handle not being in control, he roughly rolled us over so he was on top of me.

I didn't have time to catch my breath before he wrapped my leg around his bare waist and brought his hips to mine. I arched my back and moaned as he roughly pushed in and out of me. As our hips danced, we moaned loud enough for only the other to hear.

I lost track of time as we focused on pushing each other, inch by inch, over the edge. When we finally fell, our bodies relaxed into each other. Tyler stayed on top and inside me for a brief second before slowly pulling out.

He rolled to the side and, for a moment, I thought he was going to leave. Instead, he grabbed the blanket that had been pushed aside during our dance and draped it over us. I forced myself not to smile as he wrapped his arms around me.

I fell asleep, reminding myself that he'd be gone in the morning. Sooner, if there is a tornado nearby.

* * * * *

I woke up to someone kissing my shoulder. I let out a small moan as I fully woke up. I looked over my shoulder to see Tyler smirking at me.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he whispered, his voice dark.

"Good morning to you, too," I smirked. I rolled onto my back, Tyler now hovering over me. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. As I kissed him back, I grabbed his face and pulled him closer. I felt him smirk as he moved so he was on top of me.

I threw my arms around him as our bodies danced against each other. A moan left my lips as he positioned himself and slipped back into me. I bit his bottom lip as he began thrusting into me. This morning, it didn't take us long to satisfy each other. We never took long in the morning.

We broke the kiss, breathing heavily as Tyler slowly pulled out of me. I gasped when he reattached his lips to my neck. His body was still firmly pressed to mine as he left small bruises up and down my neck.

"Baby," I moaned as his lips made their way down to my collarbone, awfully close to my chest. "I don't think I can go another round."

He moved his lips from my chest to my lips. They instantly moved in sync, our tongues battling for dominance. He broke the kiss with a moan. "I'll go get us some coffee," he whispered. "That way, we can go several more rounds."

I sat up and leaned against the headboard as Tyler got out of bed. I followed him with my eyes as he searched for his clothes and put them back on. Before leaving, Tyler walked back over to me and kissed me.

"I'll be back," he whispered as he kissed me again.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I sank into the bed. I took a shaky breath before finally getting out of bed. I slowly threw on some clothes. I was pulling my hair into a tight ponytail when I heard the door unlock.

I looked over my shoulder, my heart sinking when I saw Tyler sneaking into my room. "Anyone catch you?" I had to ask. I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest.

He looked up, the expression in his eyes changing. "No," he said, his voice soft as he walked toward me. "It's still kind of early. My team is never up before 10 am."

"And mine doesn't leave until 9," I nodded. I looked away from him and took my coffee from him.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, trying to get me to turn toward him, but I didn't.

"Have you ever thought about. . . us?" I asked slowly.

"I think about us all the time," he smirked, stepping closely behind me. "Especially when I'm lonely and can't sleep."

"That's not what I meant, Tyler," I said, my voice soft.

"What did you mean?" He asked.

I finally turned around, face-to-face with Tyler as I stuttered, "I meant about us being. . . an us."

"You mean like, not just sleeping together?"

"I'm tired of sneaking around," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm tired of sneakily hooking up. I'm tired of sneaking in and out of each other's motel rooms. I'm tired of secretly texting each other. I'm tired of only being together in secret. I want. . ."

I stopped talking and looked away from him. Tyler stepped even closer to me and gently used his finger to turn me toward him.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, "and maybe I can give it to you."

"I want us to be more than just sleeping together," I confessed. "I want us to be an us. I want. . . I want you, Tyler. I know we rarely see each other. . ."

He smirked as he pulled me closer. "We run into each other all the time, baby. If we started dating for real, we would see each other more."

"What about our jobs?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Your fans think we hate each other."

"We could still act like we hate each other on camera," he shrugged. He paused before adding, "Or we don't have to act like it anymore."

"Wait, so you. . ."

"I want you, Y/N," he whispered. "I want this to be more than just secretly hooking up. I mean, I love hooking up with you, but I want more. I want to see you every day, text you to reassure you that I'm okay after a storm, call you when you're on location and I need to hear your voice. I want to buy you dinner. I want to scare away your crazy boy fans as you scare away my crazy girl fans. I want to be your biggest fan. I want you, Y/N."

I dropped my coffee and threw my arms around him, instantly connecting my lips to his. He dropped his coffee as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.

The kiss got rough as he led us across the motel room. We collapsed onto the bed with matching moans. Before we could get too into the kiss, someone cleared their throat.

We looked toward the door to see Boone smirking at us in the doorway. Tyler gently got off me and helped me to my feet. We fixed ourselves before turning toward Boone.

"What?" Tyler asked with no emotion.

"Sorry to interrupt," he chuckled, "but there's a storm nearby. Let's get to chasing."

As Boone walked away, Tyler turned back toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

"What do you think, gorgeous?" He asked. "I'll chase it and you report the weather pattern?"

"Sure," I said, my voice soft. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist.

"I know it was probably scary to tell me what you wanted," he whispered. "Especially since it wasn't what you wanted in bed. You've never had a hard time telling me that. But emotion? That's different. Before we go chasing, I need you to know that I want the same thing. I want you and me. No more hiding. No more lying. No more secrets."

I stood on my toes and delicately pressed my lips to his. This was one of the softest kisses we've ever shared. When we broke it, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"No more secrets," he whispered again.

"No more secrets."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Dare Me – Glen Powell

"As briefed," Tom recited, "today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team, you have to shoot me down, or else."

"Or else what, sir?" Jay, who plays Payback, asked.

"Or else I shoot back," Tom chuckled. "If I short either one of you down, you both lose."

We spent the day filming our first flight scenes with Maverick. Our planes were set up on motion sensors in front of a green screen. Even though Tom filmed several scenes in the sky, for safety reasons, our scenes with dialogue had to be filmed on the ground.

Lewis and I were in our plane while Glen was in his across from us. We sent each other smirks before Joseph yelled 'action'.

"Say, Phoenix," Glen started. "How's about we tell everybody 'Bob' stands for something? Other than Robert, I mean."

"Don't take the bait, Bob," I warned him. "Want to know why we call him Hangman?"

"I got it," Glen smirked. "Baby on Board."

Our planes were jerked to the side, cutting off Glen's laughter, when they made it seem like Maverick's plane flew in between us.

"Greetings, aviators," Tom said from his place in his plane. "Fight's on."

"All right, Phoenix," Glen recited, "let's take this guy out! Break right!"

"Breaking right," I responded. Our planes moved as we mimicked the maneuvers we were taught.

"Where's he going?" Lewis asked.

"That's why we call him Hangman," I sighed. "He'll always hang you out to dry."

"Leaving your wingman," Tom recited. "There's a strategy I haven't seen in a while."

"He called you a man, Phoenix," Glen chuckled. "You gonna take that?"

"So long as he doesn't call you a man," I shot back. "Talk to me, Bob. Where's Maverick?"

"His nose is already coming around!" Lewis gasped.

"Get him off me, Hangman!"

"For all you folks at home," Glen boasted, "this is how you bury a fossil."

"All right, Hangman. Time to teach you a lesson," Tom sighed. "You're out, Phoenix."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Let's go, Mav," Glen shouted. "Let's see what you got."

"Come get me," Tom taunted.

"Evil be gone. Hangman's coming."

I rolled my eyes at Glen enjoying playing his character a little too much.

"Yeah, you're good," Tom recited. "I'll give you that."

Their planes lifted, going straight up. "Shit," Glen mumbled. "Phoenix, I can't see him. How close am I? Phoenix?"

"I'm dead, dickhead," I shot back.

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman," Lewis added.

"Where is he? Where is he?" Glen mumbled.

"That's a kill."

"And cut!"

We got out of our planes and headed into the ship. I was on my way to the quarters I was using during filming when someone caught up to me.

"I gotta say," Glen smirked as he walked over to me, "your Phoenix was very convincing. Your 'pretending to hate me when you're actually super into me' is flawless."

"And your Hangman being an absolute ass was very convincing," I smirked before walking to my quarters. He started to follow me, but I stopped in the doorway and turned around. "What do you want, Powell?"

"A few of us are going out for drinks tonight," he said. "Are you in?"

"Sure," I shrugged.

"Cool," I heard Glen say under his breath as I left.

* * * * *

We went to a nearby bar and spent the majority of the night drinking. I didn't have nearly as much as some of the others. About three hours into the night, I decided to call it a night. I grabbed my stuff and walked out.

"Y/N!"

I turned to see Glen jogging and following me outside. "Everything okay?" He asked once he caught up to me.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I'm just heading home."

"Getting wasted at a bar was never your thing," he smirked. I cleared my throat when he walked to my other side, moving me so he was next to the street instead of me.

"I like remembering my nights," I smirked. I gasped when he drunkenly stumbled. I grabbed his arm, ignoring the feeling in my stomach when he looped his arm around mine.

"I also like being able to walk on my own," I chuckled.

We walked for a little while in silence. The longer we walked, the more comfortable I got with him.

"Can I ask you something?" He said, breaking the silence.

"Of course," I shrugged.

"You don't think I'm an ass, do you?"

I stopped walking and made Glen turn toward me, our conversation earlier today popping into my mind.

"That is just your character," I said as clearly as I could. "Hangman is an asshole. You, Glen, are not. He's just a character you're playing."

"I know," he stuttered. "But you gotta stop and think about the guy who keeps getting the asshole roles."

"You're not like that, Glen," I tried again. "I know you. You're funny and smart and talented and sweet."

"Really?" He asked, taking a small step toward me.

"Of course," I said, my heart feeling like it was in my throat. "You're not an asshole, Glen."

"Thanks," he chuckled. Suddenly, a thick tension fell between us. The more we stared into each other's eyes, the thicker the tension got.

"Dare me to do something."

"No," I giggled as I walked away. "We're not twelve."

"Come on," he drunkenly whined. "Dare me to do something. I will do anything you dare me to."

"Anything," I challenged.

"Anything," he nodded. "I'm fearless. Dare me."

"I'm not going to dare you to do anything," I sighed.

"Come on," he pouted. "Dare me to do something."

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored," he said as he balanced along the edge of the sidewalk.

"I'm not doing this," I shook my head. He suddenly spun around and grabbed onto me for support.

"Dare me."

"No."

"Dare me," he repeated.

"No," I repeated.

"Dare me. Dare me. Dare me. Dare me. Dare me. Dare me. Dare me. Dare. . ."

"I dare you to kiss me."

I expected him to hesitate, but he didn't. He instantly grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. As our lips moved in sync, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

Unlike how quickly it started, Glen and I slowly broke our kiss. We leaned back and studied each other as we caught our breaths. When things finally calmed down and the embarrassment set in, I took a step out of his hold.

"I should get going," I whispered.

"Y/N. . ."

"We've got an early call time tomorrow."

* * * * *

When I walked into set the next day, my stomach was full of nerves. The second I arrived, I went to my trailer. I stayed there until I absolutely had to leave. And when I did leave, I went straight to the set.

My breath got caught in my throat when Glen walked onto set. I quickly looked away and busied myself with fixing my costume.

"Hey," he said, trying to get my attention.

"Hey," I said, still not looking at him.

Luckily, our director told us to go to our spots. Filming saved me from having to talk to Glen the rest of the day. We were either filming a scene we were in together but not talking to each other, or one of us was filming while the other wasn't.

At the end of the day, I stopped at the costume trailer before heading to mine. I walked in and took a breath. The relief didn't last long because I turned to see Glen sitting on the couch.

"Glen," I gasped.

"You've been avoiding me."

"What?" I stuttered. "I haven't been. . . We've been filming all day."

"True," he said as he stood up and walked over to me. "But we normally talk in between scenes, and you have barely looked at me all day."

"I haven't been avoiding you," I said, focusing on our feet.

"I dare you to tell me the truth."

My head snapped up at his words. I studied his eyes as he smiled gently at me.

"You remember. . ."

"Of course I remember," he said, his voice dropping. "We were leaving the bar, and I begged you to give me a dare. You dared me to kiss you. And I did."

"I thought you were too drunk to remember," I admitted. Glen laughed as he grabbed my hands and pulled me closer.

"I remember everything about last night," he said gently. "I especially remember how disappointed I was when you walked away."

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I just. . . I didn't want to walk away, but I knew that if I didn't, we wouldn't stop."

"And that's a bad thing?" He whispered.

"I didn't want us finally crossing that line to be when we were both drunk."

"Can I be honest with you?" He asked, getting closer to me.

Our noses were almost touching when I said, "Of course."

"I only had two beers last night."

"Wait, what?" I stuttered. I went through my memories of last night, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. "But you were stumbling and. . . asked me to give you a dare."

"I was buzzed enough to give me the courage to make a move," he said, slightly tilting his head, rubbing our noses together. "Something I haven't had since the moment I met you."

"Do I have to dare you every time to get you to kiss me?"

"Maybe," he teased.

"I dare you to kiss me."

He tilted his head and pressed his lips to mine. I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck as I started to kiss him back. We broke the kiss but kept our noses pressed together.

"Dare me again," he smirked.

I leaned back and looked into his eyes. "I dare you to kiss me whenever you want, Glen."

"I dare you to kiss me whenever you want, Y/N."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Hangman's Unreadable Crush – Jake Seresin

Jake's POV

I was pulled away from checking my plane when I heard a high-pitched squeal. I looked over my shoulder and saw a gorgeous girl running toward Rooster. She jumped into his arms, and he spun them around.

He put her on her feet, and they started talking excitedly. I wasn't close enough to hear their conversation.

"Who is that gorgeous girl in Rooster's arms?" Playboy asked, walking up next to me and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know," I said, clearing my throat.

"If she's who I think she is," Phoenix added, "Rooster and her go way back."

"Really?" I asked, clearing my throat to cover my voice break.

"I think that's his mechanic friend," she shrugged and walked away. Rooster grabbed Y/N's hand and led her to Maverick's office. I didn't see her the rest of the day until I was finishing putting my plane away.

"You're Y/N, right?" I asked. She looked up at me and studied me.

"You're Lieutenant Jake Seresin, right?" She asked, but it was clear she knew the answer.

"My callsign is Hangman," I tried to brag.

"Of course it is," she smirked as she walked away.

Every interaction I had with her was like that. I'd try to start a conversation, and she'd answer simply before walking away. I'd try to flirt with her, but she'd just laugh and walk away. Nothing I did seemed to work.

All I could do was watch her work on our planes. Whenever she was in the hangar, I'd take my time finishing my checks. I couldn't help but watch her work.

When she worked on one of our planes, she seemed to be in her own world. She became so focused on the plane that you usually had to say her name a couple of times to get her attention.

No matter what we did, it seemed like Y/N didn't tell any of us what she was really like. She liked to keep things to herself. Not even Rooster would tell us about her. Whenever one of us asked Rooster questions about her, he'd smirk and make fun of us before vaguely answering us. We didn't know if he knew the answers and chose not to tell us, or if he genuinely didn't know the answers himself.

Despite the time-too much time-that I spent studying her, I couldn't figure her out. I couldn't figure out what worked with her. I couldn't figure out how to flirt with her. I couldn't figure out how to get her attention. I couldn't even figure out if I was her type. She was mine, though.

* * * * *

"We good to go up there, Y/L/N?" Rooster asked as we walked onto the tarmac. Y/N walked out from underneath Rooster's plane and moved some hair out of her face.

"All clear," she nodded. "Just be careful when you're going around tight corners. Your engine needs a break from quick jerks."

She turned around and almost ran into me. "Sorry about that, Lieutenant," she smiled before walking away.

I followed her with my eyes. Once she was gone, I turned around to see Rooster smirking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You're not subtle," he laughed.

"Have you noticed she only calls you Lieutenant?"

I turned around to see Bob and Phoenix joining us. "I've noticed," I stuttered.

"Does it bother you?" Phoenix smirked.

"No," I lied.

"She calls the rest of us our call-signs," Bob shrugged. He cleared his throat and looked away when I glared at him.

"I'm aware," I said through my teeth before turning on my heel and going to my plane. I briefly froze when I saw Y/N checking my plane. "Everything okay?"

"Just running checks," she said, not looking at me. "Maverick and the Admirals have me checking every plane before you go out."

"How is she?"

"Not a problem," she said, walking away.

"You going to be running these tests before every flight?" I asked, chasing after her.

"I'm here to make sure your planes take off without any problems," she noted.

"You're keeping us safe," I smirked, trying to flirt.

"Again, I'm here to check your planes before you take off," she said, sending me a look. "What you do up there, that's up to you. I've got nothing to do with that."

She sent me a look before walking and checking on Phoenix's plane. I cleared my throat before turning around and heading back to my plane to get ready for takeoff.

I'm not sure where she went, but my mind remained on Y/N as we ran through the flight path. When I couldn't focus on what I knew I should, I had to ask about her.

"Hey, Rooster," I started, trying to sound nonchalant. "I got a question for you."

"What, Hangman?" He sighed.

"How do you know the new mechanic?" I asked before I lost my nerve. "What's her name? Maria? Anna? Britney?"

"Y/N," Phoenix corrected.

"We joined the Navy around the same time," Rooster shrugged. "She was a mechanic. We worked on my plane together after it had some issues. After that, we became friends."

"Just friends?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Sounds like someone wants to get up close and personal with your mechanic buddy, Rooster," Payback chuckled.

"Can't help but be curious," I tried to laugh off. "A gorgeous girl like that hanging with our Rooster? Seems weird."

"All you need to know, Hangman, is she sees through guys like you all the time."

"Really?" I challenged.

"She's a female mechanic," Rooster explained. "She deals with lots of egotistical, misogynistic pricks. She can probably spot one a mile away."

"In other words," Phoenix laughed, "you have no chance with her, Hangman."

* * * * *

A couple of days later, I was doing my routine check on my plane when I noticed something weird. I quickly got in the cockpit and tried to turn on my plane.

"Come on," I mumbled when it didn't turn on.

"What's wrong, Hangman?"

I looked up to see Payback, Fanboy, and Omaha walking into the garage.

"I'm not sure," I said slowly. "Why?"

"Seems like you're having some issues with your plane," Payback smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Maybe you should call Rooster's mechanic friend, Y/N," Fanboy jumped in.

"I heard mechanics have call-signs of their own," Omaha continued their fake conversation.

"I wonder what Y/N's call-sign is," Payback chuckled.

"They call me Fix-It because there isn't a problem I can't fix."

"Y/N!" Fanboy smiled. "Hangman already called you."

"No," she elongated. "Maverick called me and said he saw some of the trainees messing with one of the planes."

She stopped in front of the three and stared at them. The longer she stared at them, the more uncomfortable they got.

"We should. . ."

"Maverick wants to talk to you," she smirked. They cleared their throats and walked away. Once they were gone, she turned toward me. Well, toward my plane.

"Let's see what they did to you, baby."

"You can see anything you want to, babe."

Y/N looked up, acting as if she was surprised I was there. "Oh," she said. "Sorry, Hangman. I didn't realize you were up there."

I laughed but stopped when she went under the plane. I cleared my throat and got out of my plane. I stood back and watched as she tinkered with my plane, reversing whatever the others did. It didn't take her long.

Soon, she got out from under my plane. I couldn't help but smile when I saw her messy ponytail and grease streaks on her face.

"So?" I asked. "How is she?"

"She is as good as new," she said, wiping her hands on her rag. "They disconnected some wires and reconnected them. Luckily, they didn't cause any severe damage. Just enough to where you'd actually have to call me."

Something in her eyes waved a symbolic red flag. "Why do I feel like what you said isn't what you actually said?"

"What?" She laughed.

"'Just enough to where you'd actually have to call me'?" I repeated. "I feel like there was another meaning to that."

"Nice catch, hotshot," she smirked as she walked past me and started putting her tools away.

"What did you mean?"

She sighed as she turned around, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned against the work table.

"Listen, Lieutenant," she sighed, "I'd have to be an idiot not to notice you constantly staring at me, watching me work, unable to keep your eyes off me when I walk into the garage."

"Yeah," I cleared my throat and looked away. "I struggle being discreet."

"And yet you don't have the guts just to ask me out."

My breath got stuck in my throat as she took a step closer to me. I studied her eyes, trying to sort through all the confusing feelings.

"I guess," I said slowly, "I just. . . I can't figure you out."

"Really?" She taunted.

"Usually, I don't struggle to read women," I said as she took another step closer to me.

"But you can't read me?"

"I guess not," I said, dropping my voice to a whisper when she took another step.

"So what you're telling me is that I need to do something a little easier to read?"

"I guess that would help, but. . ."

She grabbed my face and pulled me down to her. The second my lips touched hers, I wrapped my arms around her waist and brought her closer. Our lips moved in sync as we held onto each other. Y/N broke the kiss a lot earlier than I would've.

"How was that?" She smirked. "Can you read me now?"

[allthingsfangirl101]

Don't Take Their Sh** – Charlie

Charlie's POV

"Rick!"

I turned to see Y/N standing in the doorway. Y/N is another venture capitalist at our firm. She is the best. She has the biggest clients. She can see a deal and get it in motion within minutes. There is not one client that she hasn't convinced to trust her. Another thing about Y/N is that she's the only one who is never phased by Rick. In fact, she's the only one who gets him to calm down.

"I know you aren't throwing an actual tantrum."

"Y/N, I'm not in the mood. . ."

She held up one finger, instantly making Rick stop talking.

"I don't care," she said simply. "I need the Jefferson case."

"The Jeff. . . That's my case," Rick whined. I could see his vein popping out of his neck. I knew he was about to lose it.

"Again," she sighed, "I don't care. All I know is Atkins wants me to take over. Maybe he's tired of your tantrums interrupting you doing your job."

Rick didn't move. He was glaring at her, hoping she'd back down. She didn't. She just smiled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. I looked between the two of them, waiting for one of them to back down.

"Charlie," Y/N said, not looking away from Rick.

"Yes?"

Rick broke their staring contest and turned his glare to me when I responded to her.

"Would you, please, get me everything your boss has on Jefferson's account?"

"Of course," I nodded. I forced myself to ignore Rick's glare as I walked past him and searched through his filing cabinet. I found the file and handed it to her.

"Is this everything?" She asked. I cleared my throat as I walked over to his desk and grabbed the folder he kept his notes in.

"This is everything," I said. I ignored the feeling in my gut when she smiled at me.

"Thank you, Charlie."

I smiled at her as she left. I cleared my throat and pretended to be busy as I walked to my desk. Before I could take five steps, Rick grabbed my arm.

"Don't ever take an order from someone else," Rick threatened. "You are my assistant. Not her's."

"But he respects authority."

We turned around to see Y/N still in the doorway.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Rick tried to warn her.

"Unlike you, Rick, Charlie respects those around him with more authority than himself. And, no offense to Charlie, but I have more authority than him."

"None taken," I said with a small smile. That smile instantly fell the minute I looked at Rick.

"So, since you respect those with more authority, Charlie, thank you for the file."

Y/N sent me a smile that I returned before she left Rick's office.

* * * * *

I turned around and froze when I saw Y/N walking into the coffee shop. "Hey, Charlie," she smiled at me as she passed me and walked up to the counter.

I waited for my order, but watched Y/N order herself a latte. After she paid, she instantly walked over to me.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Yeah," I said, slightly confused by her question. "Just getting Rick his usual."

"Four protein shakes?" She smirked.

"Yep," I said, slightly clearing my throat.

"Rick has been on one lately," she said with a small eye roll. "Seems like his divorce with Kiki is messing with him."

"To be honest," I sighed, "he wasn't any better when they were together."

"He is a piece of work," she laughed. "I've gotta give you credit. I can barely stand to talk to him for ten minutes, let alone any longer. How long have you been working for him?"

"About two. . . three years."

"Wow," she said, studying me.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, clearing her throat. "It's just. . . Did you always want to be an assistant?"

"Well, I don't plan to be one for long," I stuttered. "I'm just building my profile and my resume. With the more experience I get, I can move up."

"So you want to be a venture capitalist?"

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"You sure?" She challenged. "You don't sound sure."

"Well. . ."

"Do you love it?" She asked, catching me off guard.

"I mean. . . I think so."

"If you have to think about it, you don't."

Before I could ask her what she meant, my name was called. I sent her a look before walking over to the counter and grabbing Rick's drinks.

"What did you mean?" I asked as soon as I got back to her.

"Charlie," she sighed, "when someone asks you a question like 'do you love your job' or 'do you love this person', if you have to think about it at all, the answer is no. When you don't doubt, you don't have to hesitate."

"Do you love your job?" I asked.

"I do," she smiled. The barista called her name, but Y/N didn't walk away. First, she lowered her voice and said, "You deserve to have a career that you don't have to hesitate to talk about."

I watched her as she walked over to the counter and grabbed her drink. "Walk me back to the office?" She asked with what seemed like a teasing smirk.

She walked past me and headed out of the coffee shop. I quickly caught up to her and started walking along with her. We walked for a little while in silence. I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn't sure how.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, not looking at her.

"Of course," she said lightly.

"How do you do this?" I sighed. "How do you walk in, give your opinion, ignore people telling you you're wrong, and walk out? I need a beer and a breath whenever Rick yells in my face."

Y/N grabbed my arm and made me stop walking. She pulled on my elbow, turning me toward her.

"Don't take their shit," she said simply.

"That's it?" I teased.

"That's it," she shrugged. "You have to build tough skin, but not so tough that you can't be aware of people around you. Tough enough that people disagreeing with you doesn't bother you. You also need to be able to speak your mind without caring about people's reactions."

"Why do you make it sound so easy?" I sighed.

I slightly shook my head as I started walking. She didn't hesitate to follow me.

"It takes time, Charlie," she said once she caught up to me. "When I was younger, I struggled speaking up for myself. It took something happening for me to finally stop caring about what people think of me."

"What happened?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She cleared her throat and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I was bullied pretty badly in school," she admitted. "I never fought back, but that just made them up their game. Eventually, they pranked me by messing with my car. I got into a car accident and went to the hospital. The cops investigated and asked me if I had seen anyone messing with my car. I didn't say anything until my dad. . . He convinced me to tell the truth."

"Y/N. . ." I stuttered since I didn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shrugged. "After that day, I vowed never to let anyone walk all over me. I vowed never to be silent again."

She sent me a wink before walking into our office building. When I got to the elevator, Y/N was holding the doors open for me. I smiled at her in thanks.

"You know," she said, not looking at me, "you should work for someone whom you aren't afraid to talk to. Someone who doesn't make you feel like you have to stay silent."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, glancing at her. "You know anyone who's hiring?"

She looked at me with a smirk on her face, but something in her eyes that I couldn't put my finger on.

"What do you know?" She teased. "My assistant just finished his Master's and moved back home."

"You need an assistant?" I asked.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "But I need an assistant I can train to be a partner."

"A partner?" I stuttered.

"That is," she said, "if you think this could be something you don't hesitate to talk about."

We looked at each other, our staring contest slowly getting more and more intense. The elevator dinged, breaking the tension. I cleared my throat as we walked out of the elevator and headed to our office. I stopped at my desk and looked over my shoulder to see Y/N walking into her office. I watched her put her coffee on her desk and grab the Jefferson file I gave her earlier.

Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes instantly finding me. We held our staring contest for a few beats. From across the office, we were staring at each other. Without breaking our eye contact, I put Rick's drinks on my desk. Y/N sat up a little straighter as I started walking to her office. I stopped in the doorway and gathered my courage.

"Teach me."

"What?" She asked, with a small smile.

"Teach me how to not take any of people's shit."

Y/N mirrored my smirk. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I can only do that if you're around me all day," she said. She looked behind me, and I didn't have to look to know that Rick was watching us. "You can't do that while you're Rick's punching bag."

"I don't want to be Rick's punching bag anymore," I said firmly.

"Good," she smiled.

"I want to be yours," I said. I quickly added, "Your punching bag."

Her smile instantly fell. "Charlie," she sighed, leaning against her desk. "I don't want you to be my punching bag."

"But I thought. . ."

"I want you to be my assistant, not punching bag," she clarified. She pointed between the two of us as she continued, "This is going to be different than you and Rick, Charlie."

"Sounds good to me," I shrugged.

"Well then," she chuckled. "Take notes, Mr. Assistant. Your first lesson starts now."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Left Behind – Tyler Owens

I woke up to someone kissing my cheek. I sat up, keeping the blanket covering my body. My heart sank into my stomach as Tyler grabbed his "Tornado Chasing Kit" out of our closet. His everyday kit is in his truck. The kit in our closet was his traveling kit. Which means he's leaving town.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"Two towns over," he said, adding a few toiletries to his bag.

"Okay," I sighed. I turned my focus to the pattern on our comforter. I jumped when Tyler appeared next to me.

"You okay, sleepyhead?" He teased.

"Of course," I lied. "I'm fine."

He smiled before gently grabbing my chin and pressing his lips to mine.

"I'll call you when we get to the motel."

I watched him walk away. A sliver of hope appeared when he stopped in the doorway. He turned around, and by the excited look in his eyes, I knew he wouldn't stay home with me.

"What?" I asked.

"Aren't you going to walk me out?"

With a smirk on my face, I got out of bed and slipped on my robe. I walked over to him, waiting in the doorway. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Tyler smirked as he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around me. We leaned in and pressed our lips together. I pushed down my fear and focused on kissing my boyfriend.

Tyler broke the kiss, making me pout. "Sorry, darling," he said, his accent making me swoon. "But if we keep going, I'm going to have no choice but to pick you up and carry you back to our bed."

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, my voice low.

"Nothing is wrong with that, baby," he whispered. "The thing is, I gotta get going. I told Boone I'd pick him up before heading out."

"Fine," I sighed, pushing him away. "You love Boone more than you love me. I just need to accept that."

I started to walk away, but he instantly pulled me back and pushed me up against the doorframe.

"I love you way more than Boone," he moaned. "My love for you is very, very, different."

My pout slowly turned into a smirk. When he saw the change, he smirked too. He leaned down and roughly kissed me. We broke the kiss with matching moans.

"I really got to go, baby."

"I know," I sighed. "I was hoping if I was cute enough, you'd stay."

"Sorry, darling," he sighed. "I can't."

He kissed my cheek before walking down the stairs. I ignored the feeling in my stomach as I followed him downstairs. I slipped on my shoes and walked him to his truck. After saying our goodbyes, reminding him to call me when they got to the motel, and sharing a kiss that probably was a bit much for the public, Tyler got in his truck and left.

Tyler and I have been dating for a year. We bought a home and moved in together four months ago. I love Tyler with all my heart. He makes me incredibly happy. The only issue is his stupid tornado chasing.

Every time he and his team chase after some storm, my heart is in my throat the entire time he's gone. My nerves don't relax until he walks back through the door.

If it were up to me, Tyler would walk away from the Tornado Wranglers, and we would focus on starting our life together. A life where the man I love didn't put his life on the line for some YouTube channel.

Little did I know that as he went to chase tornadoes in a nearby town, I'd actually need him here at home.

* * * * *

Tyler's POV

"Guess we were wrong," I sighed, throwing the bags in the trunk. "The tornado wasn't here."

"It may not be here," Boone mumbled. He looked up at me and slowly showed me his phone. "It is somewhere else, though."

My heart jumped into my throat when I saw the weather forecast from back home. There were not one, but two tornadoes blowing through my hometown, where Y/N was.

I turned on my heel and ran toward the truck. My team jumped in shortly after I did. No one said anything as we raced back home. They didn't have to ask where I was going, and I didn't ask them for permission.

I was headed home.

My hands tightened on my steering wheel as I pulled into our neighborhood. Well. . . What was left of our neighborhood. . .

"Holy. . ." Boone gasped when he saw the destruction. I felt him look at me, but I couldn't turn my attention away from the destroyed houses, praying that our house was safe.

I turned the corner, and my entire world fell apart. Every house on our street was destroyed. I pulled up and stopped in front of where our house used to be. Boone said something to me, but I was out the door.

"Y/N!" I started yelling her name as I ran toward our storm cellar. The doors were already torn open. I sprinted down the stairs and looked around.

"No," I said under my breath when I realized it was empty. I quickly turned around and ran back up.

When I got out of the storm cellar, my team was frozen, scanning the rubble.

"Is she. . ." Boone started to ask.

I ignored him and started yelling Y/N's name as I searched the wreckage of our home. My team didn't hesitate to start helping me look. We searched and searched, but nothing. The longer we searched, the more panicked I got.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I slowly spun around. I stopped when I saw Boone walking over to me slowly.

"Man," he started.

"She's gone," I mumbled. "The house is destroyed. She's gone. I lost her. She was in danger and I wasn't here."

"Tyler," he tried again.

"She's gone!" I cut him off. "Don't you see?! It doesn't matter anymore! Y/N is dead! She's dead because I wasn't here."

"Stop," Boone said, walking over and forcing me to look at him. "We don't know that. I hate to say it like this, but we didn't find her."

"I know," I said through my teeth.

"No," he elongated. "You don't. Tyler, we didn't find her. If she were really gone, we would've found her. We didn't. Maybe some emergency responders already found her. Maybe she's at the hospital."

"Maybe," I mumbled.

"Let's check the nearby hospital," Boone continued. "If we check and she's not there, then we can start to panic."

"Okay," I said shakily. "You're right. Maybe. . . Maybe she wasn't home. Maybe someone else helped her."

My hands were shaking as I reached into my pocket for my truck keys. Boone reached over and gently grabbed them from me.

"I'll drive."

* * * * *

I ran into the hospital and eagerly searched for someone who could help me. My eyes landed on a few nurses sitting behind a desk.

"I'm looking for my girlfriend," I blurted out. "I think she was. . . She might've been. . . I don't know where she is."

"Okay," an older nurse soothed me. "What's her name, sweetheart?"

"Y/N," I said, her name getting stuck in my throat. "Her name is Y/F/N Y/L/N."

She sent me a small smile. "Give me one minute to look her up."

I held my breath as I waited. I looked down to see my hands shaking. I slid my hands into my pockets, struggling to calm myself down.

"Well," she said, her voice making me jump, "it's good news, honey. Your girl is finishing up her exam. It looks like she has some slight bruising and a small concussion. Nothing a good night's sleep in her man's arms can't fix."

I felt numb as I followed the nurse down the hall to the room Y/N was in. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Y/N lying in the bed, talking to her doctor.

"Y/N," I gasped. She looked up at me, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Tyler," she said, her voice breaking. I ran over to her and instantly wrapped my arms around her. We held onto each other tightly as Y/N let out soft cries.

"I'll give you two a moment," the doctor whispered before leaving. Once he was gone, I let out a shaky breath.

"Where were you, darling?" I asked. "When we found out there were tornadoes in our town, we rushed back. But I was too late. By the time I got home, everything was destroyed. I was so scared. I thought. . . I couldn't find you."

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered. I broke our hug and reached up, slowly moving some hair out of her face. I kept my hand on her face and studied her.

"What happened, baby?"

Instead of answering, she pulled on my hand. I let her pull me onto the bed and instantly wrapped my arms around her.

"I was in town when the tornado hit," she said once she was in my arms. "I was driving home from the store. I don't think it was the tornado that hit the car. All I do know is that the car was thrown. I woke up to some strangers helping me out. They drove me here."

"Thank goodness they did," I said, letting out a sigh of relief as I subconsciously tightened my arms around her. I closed my eyes and focused on holding her. A few minutes later, the door opened. I opened my eyes and instinctively looked down to see Y/N asleep on my chest.

"You're Ms. Y/L/N's husband, correct?"

I looked up to see the doctor walking in.

"Yes," I lied.

"Can we talk outside?"

"Of course," I nodded. I got up, careful not to wake Y/N. I followed the doctor into the hallway but kept the door cracked open in case Y/N woke up.

"So," the doctor started to explain, "we got the test results back. Everything looks good. I would, however, suggest a stronger storm cellar for your wife and child."

"For my what?" I stuttered. The doctor slowly looked up from Y/N's medical files.

"You didn't know your wife was pregnant," he said slowly.

"No," I said numbly as I looked back at Y/N sleeping in her hospital room. "I didn't know my wife was pregnant."

The doctor said something about starting the paperwork so I could take Y/N home, but my mind was racing. He patted me on the back, and I numbly walked back into Y/N's room. I collapsed onto the chair next to the bed and just sat there, overthinking the last few hours.

I raced off this morning to chase a storm. In the process, I left the girl I loved behind to protect herself. As it turns out, she wasn't just protecting herself. She was protecting our child. My child.

Meaning, not only did I leave the girl I love. I left my child behind.

I snapped out of it when I heard Y/N sigh sleepily. She made that sound whenever she woke up from a nap.

"Ty?" She said, her voice dripping with sleep.

"I'm right here, ba. . ." I froze before I could finish my nickname for her. She looked at me and studied me.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I admitted. "I'm not. I never should have left you this morning. I'm done."

"You're what?" She stuttered, slowly sitting up.

"I'm done chasing," I said, scooting closer to her. "I'm serious. I'm done chasing tornadoes. It's dangerous and stupid. And I can't leave my family behind. I can't leave you."

"Tyler. . ."

"I can't leave you to raise our baby alone."

"Our baby," she stuttered. "What are you. . ."

I reached over and gently grabbed her hands. "The doctor ran some tests, Y/N," I whispered. "You're pregnant."

"We're going to have a baby?" She asked, happy tears in her eyes.

"See?" I whispered. "I can't keep putting my life at risk when I have you two to take care of."

I grabbed her face and gently pressed my lips to hers. With a small giggle, Y/N started kissing me back. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against hers.

"I love you, Y/N," I whispered. "And I promise that I will always be here for you and our baby."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Over-Protective Wingman – Jake Seresin

I wasn't nervous as the plane landed on the new ship. I wasn't nervous as someone showed me my barracks. I wasn't nervous as I met Captain Mitchell. I wasn't nervous when I followed Captain Mitchell. I wasn't nervous when Captain Phillips introduced me to the other recruits. I wasn't nervous until my eyes landed on my old wingman, Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Also known as Hangman.

His reaction wasn't what I expected it to be. The second he saw me, he let out what seemed like a disappointed sigh and turned back around. I followed Maverick to the front of the group and stood there while he introduced me. It was clear that Jake was trying really hard not to look at me.

Part of me wished he would.

Two years ago, Lieutenant Jake Seresin and I were training together. One day, we ran through a make-believe mission. We were working on quick maneuvers. At one point, I rounded the corner and suddenly alarms were ringing. I tried to figure out what was wrong, but couldn't tell. I soon lost complete control of my plane. I had no choice but to eject.

Search and rescue found me in under an hour. I was taken back to the ship. My injuries were small, and I only had to be in the infirmary overnight. I was, however, forced to go on medical leave for three weeks.

Ever since that flight, Seresin wasn't the same. He was in the infirmary when I woke up and even escorted me to my sleeping quarters. I'm convinced he would've stayed with me if there hadn't been a rule about trainees being in each other's quarters past curfew. When I returned to training, I noticed him watching me a lot more than he used to.

I didn't have time to overanalyze his shift. A few days later, we were sent to different bases. I'm not sure where he went, but I guess I know now.

I walked over to my plane and checked a few things. After my crash, I always manually check every little thing. Right as I was finished checking the ejection lever and parachute, I felt someone's eyes on me. I turned around to see Jake standing by his plane. I expected him to look away, but he didn't. So, instead, I walked over to him.

"Were you ever going to come say hi?" I teased.

He looked away and slightly cleared his throat. When he looked back at me, there was something unreadable in his eyes.

"It's good to see you, Y/N."

"It's good to see you, too, Seresin," I said, studying him.

"What have you been up to?" He asked, nervously shoving his hands into his jumpsuit pockets.

"Nothing much," I shrugged, hating this weird tension between us. "I trained at a base that people aren't supposed to know about, got really good at maneuver statistics."

We looked at each other, and it felt like everything froze. I didn't move as he took a step closer to me. When he finally spoke up, his voice was soft.

"It still drives me crazy that we never knew what happened with your ship."

"Actually," I hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed as he took another step closer to me.

"You know?"

"Part of the reason I didn't return to training right away is because we had reports of one of the people we were training with not being who we thought they were."

"Wait," he interrupted. "Y/N, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"We were training with a traitor," I sighed. "Their plan was to take us out, one by one. They started with me."

"Who was it?" He asked the second I took a breath. I didn't want to tell him. I couldn't. I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to tell him the truth.

"Y/N," he said slowly, "who was the traitor?"

"Hanson."

My heart sank when Jake started shaking his head. I watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, probably going back through our training. Seresin and Hanson flew together. They were each other's wingman.

"He was. . ."

"I'm really sorry, Jake," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. I could practically see the wheels turning.

"I guess that explains it," he mumbled.

"Explains what?"

"Why Hanson was "transferred" out of our unit after your accident."

He looked back at me, and things felt weird. "You okay?" I asked because I couldn't think of what else to say.

"Yeah," he said, smiling shyly at me. "I'm fine."

I started to walk away, but he gently grabbed my arm. "It really is good to see you, Y/N. I look forward to flying with you again."

Maybe things will go back to the way they were before my accident.

* * * * *

I was wrong.

A week into training, Jake and I were flying the course. The entire time, it felt like Jake was right behind me. I turned the corner, and he turned less than 15 seconds later.

"Seresin, what the hell are you doing?"

"You're too tight on your turns," he said.

"She's fine, Hangman," Maverick's voice came over the speaker. "Back up a little. If you get too close, you'll both crash."

We continued to fly the route, but Jake stayed where he was. I gasped when he suddenly flew around me and cut me off. His movements made me over-correct, causing me to almost slam into the mountain.

"What the hell?!"

"Both of you, get back here. Now!" Maverick instructed.

I angrily grunted as I turned my plane around. The entire flight back, I kept an eye on Jake's plane. When I caught of glimpse of Jake in the cockpit, I could tell he was tense.

My anger was fuming as I landed on the ship. I didn't get out of my plane right away. Instead, I waiting for him to land. I tightened my hands into fists when he finally landed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled as I jumped out of my plane and started walking toward his plane. He climbed down and tore off his helmet. "That was sloppy, Seresin. Your moves were sporadic. You acted before thinking it through. In other words, you could've gotten one of us killed!"

"You were cutting your corners," he accused.

"Excuse me? My corners were fine. You were the one riding my ass!"

"I was making sure you kept to the path."

"Kept to the path," I scoffed. "Last I checked, I'm not the one of us who is known for being reckless in the sky, Hangman."

"That's not fair," he said through a clenched jaw.

"And hovering over me like I've never flown before is?" I shot right back. I took my hair out of the bun and ran my fingers through the tangles. "Jake, we can't keep doing this. Ever since I was transferred, you've been jumpy and on edge. Is it because of me? Do you not feel safe flying with me or something?"

"No," he answered quickly. "It's just. . ."

"Then what is it?" I asked when he hesitated. "What's going on with you, Jake? You've been acting strange ever since I got here. Almost like you're avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you, Y/N."

When he looked up at me, it felt like someone had stolen my oxygen. A thick tension fell between us the longer we stared at each other. A distant crash broke our weirdly intense eye contact.

"Then why are you only near me when we're flying?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Because I'm worried about you," he sighed.

"You don't need to worry about me," I said gently. "I'm fine, Jake."

"I will always be worried about you, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping as he took a step closer to me. "Ever since I almost lost you on that mission back in training. . ."

"Jake," I whispered when he didn't continue. I closed the gap between us and gently grabbed his hands. "We have gone through this; I wasn't hurt. I ejected from my plane, and the search party found me. All I had were some bruises from the harness, scratches from falling through the trees, and a concussion from landing."

"It took the search team 43 minutes to get to your location," he said, sounding odd.

"Jake. . ."

"I raced back to the ship," he continued, "and I stayed on the tarmac until the rescue team landed. I followed the gurney all the way to the infirmary until one of the nurses stopped me. I waited outside the entire time they checked on you."

"You were right there when I woke up," I remembered.

"I was terrified," he whispered. "I thought I lost you, Y/N."

"But you didn't," I tried to soothe him.

"Will you stop?" He sighed, walking away from me. I watched as he started pacing back and forth. "Why do you keep acting like nothing happened? You almost died, Y/N! After that day, I haven't been able to stop imagining the search and rescue team not finding you. Or finding you, but finding you too late. I can't stop imagining losing you."

"Jake," I said, grabbing his arm and making him stop pacing. "All the things you've been imagining didn't happen. It wasn't even that big of a crash."

"How are you so okay with what happened?" He asked. "I'm not."

"You want to know the truth?" I sighed. "Jake, the Navy forced me to go on medical leave, remember?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I called you every day."

"You did," I smiled. "Healing from my wounds was not the only thing I did over those three weeks."

"What are you talking about?"

My heart sank when Jake's voice broke. It was then that I realized just how much my crash messed with him.

"I talked to a therapist," I explained.

"You did?"

"I did," I nodded. "We talked about the accident, what I felt, my anxieties about coming back. It really helped me through it, and I hope you don't mind me saying this, but maybe you should try it."

"I don't need therapy," he said, his voice slightly changing.

"I know how it sounds," I said quickly. "But talking to someone really can help. All they do is listen and give you advice and tools to help you through it. It works, Jake. Talking to them once really helps you feel better. It worked for me. It can work for you, too."

I stopped talking when he suddenly grabbed my face. He didn't say anything as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed as I kissed him back. He took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to his chest. I threw my arms around his neck as we gave in to the kiss. We broke apart when neither one of us could breathe. Jake leaned his forehead against mine as we caught our breaths.

"See?" Jake whispered, his forehead still pressed to mine. "I already feel so much better."

"Jake," I whispered. "What are we doing?"

He reached up and moved some hair out of my face. "As much as I like being your wingman, I can't only be your wingman."

"I don't understand," I stuttered. To answer me, Jake pulled me into his chest and kissed me again. We let out matching moans when he gently pushed me up against the side of his plane.

"Seresin! Y/L/N! Where are you guys?" Rooster yelled, making us break apart. "Maverick wants to review your flight with you."

"We'll be right there!" Jake yelled back. I laughed and slightly shook my head. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my hand.

"We're not done talking about this, Y/L/N," he said, his voice low.

"I know," I said, matching his tone. "My place. After training. I'll order dinner. You bring the beer."

"I'll be there."

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Breaking The Manwhore – Glen Powell

Warnings: random hooking up, protected sex, repetitive sex, sneaking around, language

I walked off set, nodding at people as I walked to my office. I ran my fingers through my hair, mentally trying to plan out the rest of my day. I grabbed my phone and looked through my calendar. I didn't turn my attention away from my phone as I walked into my office.

"Hey, baby."

I looked up from my phone to see Glen sitting on the edge of my desk. "Took you long enough."

Without looking away from him, I kicked my door shut and locked it. I tore off my suit jacket and tossed it at him. As he caught it, I closed my office blinds.

I walked over and stood between his legs. He moaned when I put my hands on his knees and started rubbing his thighs.

"I would've gotten here faster if I had known you were waiting for me."

Glen grabbed my ass and pulled me closer, making me moan. "I thought it would be hotter to surprise you."

I grabbed his face and roughly pressed my lips to his. We moaned as our lips moved roughly in sync, our bodies slowly catching up. With Glen still on my desk, we started tearing our own clothes off.

The second my shirt was off, he stopped undressing himself and focused on putting his face between my breasts. I arched my back and didn't bother stopping or quieting my moan as he started nibbling on the skin peaking out underneath my bra.

"Fuck, baby," I moaned. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. He moaned, slightly biting my chest when I pushed his face further into my chest.

"Baby," he moaned against my boobs. "I need you."

I took a step back, disconnecting his perfect lips from my begging chest. His eyes were glued to my breasts as I unhooked my bra in the front and let it drop to my feet. With a smirk on my face, I turned on my heel and walked over to my couch. Glen moaned when I laid down.

"It's a good thing you're on the pill," he growled as he tore off his shirt. I laughed as he walked over to me and instantly hovered over me. I grabbed his face and pulled him to me.

The second his lips touched mine, we didn't hold back. We messily kissed as we finished undressing each other. I moaned a little too loudly when he pushed into me.

"Careful, baby," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't want one of your PAs to hear you and interrupt us."

"Sorry," I said shakily as I readjusted my hips. "I can't control myself with you."

"Good," he growled before rocking his hips against mine. I arched my back, bringing myself closer to him. I squeezed my eyes shut as he did everything I liked. He knew what to do to drive me crazy. And he liked it when I let him know when it drove me crazy.

"Fuckin' hell, Glen," I groaned. He moaned when I slid my hands down his back and squeezed his ass.

"Fuck," he said through a clenched jaw. We got a little too rough. So rough, we somehow ended up on the floor. We laughed as we landed with me on top of him.

"You drive me crazy, baby girl," he said, his eyes scanning my body on top of his.

"As do you, Powell."

I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. Without breaking the kiss, Glen gently rolled us over. It was there, on the ground, that we finished.

Glen collapsed on the floor next to me after pulling out. We lay there for a few minutes to catch our breath. Glen and I met when I interviewed him for his Twisters movie. After the interview, he asked if we could get a drink. I said yes, and we spent the entire night drinking and talking. We drank too much and went back to my place.

After that night, we didn't have plans to hook up again, but ended up randomly running into each other. From then on, we made our own "accidental run-ins". We've been accidentally running into each other for six months.

I glanced at the wall and sighed when I saw the time.

I stood up and instantly started getting dressed. I was aware of him watching me, but I didn't care. I let him. I turned around and smirked when I saw his pout.

"What's wrong, Mr. Hollywood?"

"Where are you going?" He asked, sitting up and leaning against the couch, not bothering to get dressed.

"I've got to film the 11 o'clock news, baby." I walked over and kissed him. "You should get going, too. They clean my dressing room while I film the news."

* * * * *

A couple of days later, I was filming on a random street in LA about a series of road-rage accidents. Right as the cameras were about to start rolling, I noticed the cameras across the street. I then saw Glen. I cleared my throat and wiped the smirk from my face as the cameras started rolling.

The entire time we were filming, Glen stood across the street and watched. I felt like my body was on fire when we finished. Glen and I made eye contact. Even from across the street, I could see his smirk. Just then, my phone went off.

Glen My trailer. Now.

I didn't bother to respond. I put my phone back in my pocket, handed the microphone to a random PA, and walked across the street. I took off my earpiece and ran my fingers through my hair as I walked through his set.

When I got to his trailer, I stopped. I fixed my shirt, pulling it down so it showed a teasing amount of cleavage. I didn't bother knocking. I opened the door and walked in.

"Glen?" I asked, my voice as sultry as I could make it.

"Over here, gorgeous."

I turned around to see him waiting for me on his couch. A smirk spread across my face as he leaned back into the couch and opened his legs, welcoming me in. Without hesitating, I walked over to him. I instantly straddled his lap as I started to run my hands up and down his chest.

"What do you want, baby?" I asked as I started grinding my hips against his. I bit my lip when he closed his eyes and moaned at my movements. I leaned in and started making out with his neck. My lips on his skin made him moan. He roughly grabbed my hips and started massaging them.

"Fuck," he moaned.

I bit his neck before leaning in and whispering, "Tell me what you want, baby."

Glen growled as he slipped his hands under my dress and ripped off my underwear. I sat up and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, slid them and his boxers down, revealing his very ready hips.

"I want you, baby girl," he moaned, his voice deep.

"I'm all yours."

I gasped, arching my back when Glen grabbed my hips and roughly pulled me down to him. We both moaned as he slid into me. As soon as the pressure was there, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his.

Our hips and lips moved in sync as Glen's trailers filled with our moans. I knew exactly what he liked when we were in this position, just like how he knew exactly what I liked when I was under him.

I moved in just the right way. Soon, he was begging for me to go faster. I did as he pressed his face between my breasts. He started sloppily making out with them as I brought my hips down harder.

"Fuck, baby girl," he moaned against my right boob. "I'm close."

"I know," I said through my own moan. "Give in. Give in to me, Glen."

Right as he did, we were interrupted.

"Mr.Powell?"

"Shit," Glen groaned. I smirked as I leaned back, keeping him inside me. While he talked to whoever was ruining our afternoon, I slowly rebuttoned my shirt. I smirked when he reached up and roughly grabbed my hands, stopping me.

"You're needed on set, Mr. Powell."

"I'll be right there," he snapped at the PA, his eyes on my chest.

I started to sit up, making Glen pull out of me. "Baby. . ." He tried to stop me.

"Uh-uh," I said, pushing him back. "You need to get back to work."

"But. . ."

I pressed my lips to his, instantly cutting him off. He moaned as I messily kissed him. "Come to my place," I gasped, breaking the kiss. "After work, pick up some dinner, and we can finish this tonight."

"I'll be there," he said through a throaty moan as his eyes focused on my bare body.

* * * * *

We didn't make it through dinner. Glen picked some up on the way over, but we went upstairs the second he got here. Our clothes were scattered up the stairs and down the hallway to my bedroom.

I've never been embarrassed about my body with Glen. Every time he sees me on display for him, I feel like the sexiest woman alive. And when we hook up, he has the ability to make me feel like it.

We let out synchronized, satisfied moans as we gave in to each other. With one last messy kiss, Glen rolled off me. I closed my eyes and took a second to catch my breath. When I opened my eyes, I rolled my head to the side to see Glen watching me.

"You know what?" I smirked.

"What?"

"I'm starving."

Glen laughed as I got out of bed. I walked over and grabbed my bathrobe from my bathroom. As I walked back to my room, I started to ask, "Do you think the dinner you brought is too cold to eat?"

Glen was sitting up. I stopped when I saw the look on his face.

"Look," Glen said, slightly clearing his throat, "I need to say something."

I turned around and tied my robe around myself. "Okay," I said slowly. "What. . ."

"I'm in love with you."

Silence fell between us as we studied each other. We didn't break our eye contact as he got out of my bed and walked over to me. He gently grabbed my hands, pulling me closer.

"You're. . ."

"Absolutely in love with you," he finished.

"But I thought we were just fucking partners."

"We were," Glen shrugged. "But, soon, we became so much more."

The shock finally wore off as I saw love instead of his usual lust in his eyes.

"What happened to you being a manwhore?" I teased as I reached up and ran my hands up and down his bare chest.

"I need to confess something else to you," he smirked. "I was Hollywood's Manwhore, but I stopped when I met you. After our first night together, I pushed that life aside. I didn't want to be with anyone else. I only wanted to be with you."

"So are you saying. . ."

"Congratulations, sexy," he purred as he pulled me so our noses were pressed together. "You broke the manwhore."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Look At His Face – Tyler Owens

Tyler's POV

"Thank you," I smiled as I took the keys from the girl behind the front desk. I turned around and instantly bumped into a beautiful girl my age.

"Sorry about that, darling."

"No worries, cowboy."

"Cowboy?" I asked.

She laughed as she reached up and tapped my hat. "Point taken," I chuckled. "So what brings you to Oklahoma?"

"Just passing through," she shrugged.

"Yeah? What's your final destination?" I asked, to keep her talking to me.

"New York."

"The big city," I smirked.

"You got something against cities, small town boy?"

"It's based on what you're used to," I shrugged as I put my hands in my back pockets.

"That it is," she chuckled as she walked by me. When she passed, I got a whiff of vanilla and strawberry. She talked to the girl at the front desk and got her room key. I wanted to stay to catch her name, but Boone called me over.

"Tyler! Where are you at?"

"Coming," I yelled over my shoulder. The girl looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. "It was nice to bump into you," I teased.

"Maybe we'll bump into each other again," she paused before adding, "Tyler."

I watched her as she grabbed her key and walked out. Right as she got to the door, she turned around and said, "Let me guess, cowboy. You were surprised to see the cells to the west choke each other out, weren't you?"

My mind was still trying to connect the dots as she walked out. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to snap out of it. As I walked back to my group, I kept looking back at the check-in office.

"What's with you?" Lily asked when I joined them.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I handed out the room keys.

"Yeah," Dex smirked. "You walked over here with this. . . look on your face."

"In fact," Boone elongated, "you walked out of the office with this cheeky smirk on your face." We all jumped when he gasped loudly. "You met a girl!"

"No, I didn't," I instantly pushed off. I walked past them and headed to the truck. I grabbed my bag and headed up to my room. I kept the door open like I usually do as I got myself settled. I walked out of the bathroom to see Boone sitting on my bed.

"Last I checked," I sighed, leaning against the small fridge, "I got you your own room, Boone."

"Tell me about her."

"Who?" I stuttered, trying to brush this off.

"The girl you met in the office earlier," Boone explained. "Who is she?"

I sighed and looked away. I turned my focus to my shoes as I slowly answered him. "I don't know, to be honest."

"How the hell do you not know?" Boone laughed.

"I didn't get her name," I sighed. "I turned around after checking in and instantly bumped into her. We talked for thirty seconds before you called me over."

"Sorry about that," he smirked.

"About what?"

Boone walked past me as he left my room. As he passed, he patted me on the back and laughed, "Sorry about taking you from that girl."

* * * * *

A few hours later, the little gathering was a full-on party in the parking lot. People were drinking, playing music, and exchanging stories. I was drinking a lot slower than the rest of my team.

I lifted my second beer to my lips and instantly froze when I saw Y/N leave her room. She walked out and leaned against the railing. When her eyes landed on me, she smirked and slowly lifted her hand and waved.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her as she walked downstairs and joined the party. Every once in a while, I found myself searching the crowd for her. She seemed to talk to everyone here.

My group was exchanging "war stories" as I was on top of the truck fixing some of our systems that got taken out by that last storm.

"Yeah," Boone was laughing. "We did it."

"Here we go, now we gotta top it," Dani smirked. Out of the corner of my eyes, I caught Y/N heading up to her room.

"City girl," I called out to her. My team laughed.

"The cells to the west will choke each other out," I restated what she said to me in the office. "That's what you said."

"I did," she shrugged. "My guess is even the one to the east didn't throw you off the scent."

"Hey," Boone defended me before I could stop him, "that's what makes Tyler famous."

"You mean on YouTube?" She smirked.

"Uh, yeah," Boone chuckled. "Yeah, we're on the YouTube. We got what? About a million subscribers now, huh?"

"Yes, sir!" Lily laughed as she pointed at him, but kept fiddling with her latest project.

"What's your name?" Ben asked her. "Just in case I include you in my piece."

"Y/N," she said, glancing at me.

"Surname?" Ben pushed.

"Just Y/N," she instantly responded. My chest felt weird when I noticed her slightly shift.

"She's a tricky one," I tried to tease to get her to relax.

"Actually," Boone said, sending me a look over his shoulder before continuing, "you made a good call with what you told Tyler earlier. The other cell looked stronger, but cap never broke."

"What's a cap?" Ben asked.

"It's a temperature inversion in the mid part of the lower atmosphere," Y/N explained. "It inhibits a storm from forming."

She looked past Ben, her eyes instantly landing on me. Whatever expression I had on my face made Y/N's face turn light pink.

"Right," Ben said slowly. "Okay. Good."

"Where did you guys all meet?" She asked, her eyes scanning the group. "Did you study meteorology at the U of A?"

Y/N's facial expression dropped as everyone started laughing. When she looked at me, I sent her an apologetic smile and a small shrug. I went back to fixing our truck as they continued talking.

"All right, Y/N, me?" Boone started. "You know, I just flow with the wind. You know what I'm saying? Yeah, I never went to, like, school or nothing. But Tyler? Tyler studied meteorology, though."

"You did?" She asked, glancing at me.

"Yeah," Boone answered for me. "He's a real cowboy scientist. He's got this natural instinct."

"Okay, Boone," I sighed.

"He taught me everything I know so. . ."

"Boone," I cut him off. I slightly cleared my throat before looking over at Y/N.

"My crew's not like most crews, Y/N. We don't need PhDs and fancy gadgets to do what we do. I guarantee you these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else in this lot combined."

"Is that right?" She smirked.

"Do you think there's a chance we'll see one tomorrow?" Ben asked Y/N.

"Oh yeah," Boone answered for her. "Outbreak, baby."

I rolled my eyes when he yipped. I looked over at Y/N and said, "You know, if you can keep up, we'll put you in the episode."

"Wow," she sarcastically laughed.

"Do you chase?" Ben asked.

"No," she said, but there was something in her eyes that said there was more to that simple answer than we thought. "I used to."

"Used to?" Ben asked.

"Things happen," Y/N tried to shrug off.

"What kind of. . ." I crushed my empty beer can and tossed it at him, cutting him off. When he looked up at me, I shook my head.

"If you were still chasing, where would you chase tomorrow?" Lily asked, helping Y/N by changing the subject.

"Oh no. No, no, no. You see, Y/N's from New York," I teased. "Can't trust a thing she says."

"Well, you can always trust a guy who puts his face on a t-shirt." She sent me a wink and walked up to her motel room. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes.

"Man," Boone laughed. "Man, that was good."

"Awwww," Lily cooed. "Look at his face!"

"Shut up," I said, instantly putting on a glare and turning away from Y/N. I walked past my team, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.

Luckily, my friends let it drop. Or so I thought.

I jumped off the truck and put my toolbox in the back. When I shut the truck door, Lily was standing there.

"What?" I asked.

"You were starstruck," she teased.

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/N," she said slowly.

"What about her?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"You like her," she smirked.

"She was. . . I mean, she seems cool," I stuttered.

"You should go talk to her," she said, teasingly pushing me. "Invite her back down here. Or, better yet, invite her to walk around that nearby park."

"We're in the middle of chasing," I brushed off. I tried to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Ty," she said gently, "you never let anyone in."

"What are you talking about?" I challenged. "I let people in. I talk to you guys all the time.

"That's not the same, and you know it," she sighed. "Whenever we run into a girl you're interested in, which is rarely, you have one conversation with her and then instantly push her away."

"I do not," I scoffed. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me in a way that made it clear that she knew I was lying. "Fine," I gave in. "But it doesn't matter, alright? I can't date right now. I need to be focused so I can bring you all back alive. I need to be focused on chasing."

"You know, Ty," she sighed, "there is such a thing as too focused. Especially when it's on the wrong thing."

* * * * *

I looked around to see my team officially too drunk to realize I was gone. I grabbed two beers and snuck up to the second floor of the motel. It wasn't until I knocked on her door that I realized how creepy this was.

Right as I was about to leave, she opened her door. "Tyler?"

"Hi," I said, sounding a lot more insecure than I had wished.

"What can I do for you?" She asked with a small smirk on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorway.

"I thought you'd like a drink," I shrugged as I showed her the beers I'd brought. My stomach dropped when her smirk fell.

"I don't drink," she admitted. "But I could go for some pizza."

"On it."

This time, when I returned to Y/N's motel room, I didn't hesitate. I walked right up to the door and knocked. She soon opened the door, a small chuckle left her lips.

"You're back."

She laughed when I showed her the pizza. I ignored the feeling in my gut when she stepped aside and smirked at me. I sent her a wink as I walked into her motel room. As I sat across from her and we ate the pizza, I realized this would be the scariest thing I've ever chased.

[allthingsfangirl101]

One Last Chance – John Glenn

Masterlist

I never understood the phrase "the butterflies in my stomach" until my husband was about to go up in a rocket to race the Russians. When he left town, we spent the entire night before he left in each other's arms. We didn't let go of each other's hands as we drove to the airport. When we got to the airport, I held onto him as long as I could. Despite the many, many cameras on us, John gave me a passionate kiss before he followed the NASA officials into a fancy building.

Every night during training, John called me. We'd talk for hours until at least one of us fell asleep. The night before his big mission, John called me like normal, but he didn't sound normal.

We talked way later than we should've. We talked about everything except for his mission. It didn't take me long to figure out that our conversation was a distraction. He ended the call with a deep sigh.

"I should get some sleep," he mumbled.

"I love you," I said before he could hang up.

"I love you, too," he chuckled.

"John?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I am so proud of you, baby."

He cleared his throat before whispering, "Thank you, gorgeous. I needed that."

"Be safe up there, Mr. Astronaut," I said, struggling to keep my voice from breaking. "I'll be watching from home."

* * * * *

I rushed home from the store, eager to get there. John's rocket was taking off today. I didn't bother putting away the groceries. I practically ran into the living room and turned on the TV. Every news channel was covering John's flight today.

The newswoman kept talking about statistics and facts about my husband, but I was more focused on the scene behind her. She was perfectly positioned in front of the rocket. Men were running around it, getting some last-minute things together.

My breath got stuck in my throat when the newscaster brought her hand up to her ear and stopped talking.

"We're getting word that the launch has been stalled," she said, lowering her hand. "We're not sure why. . ."

I stopped listening when the house phone started ringing. I glanced at the TV, my heart jumping into my throat when I figured out who was calling me.

For a second, I imagined NASA was the one calling me. They were calling to tell me the mission was off because my husband got hurt in a final training session. That thought made me jump up and run to the kitchen.

"Hello?" I answered it, instantly playing with the chord.

"Hey, darling."

"John?" I said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Is everything okay? What's wrong? Why are you calling me?"

"Can't I just call my wife and talk to her?" He asked instead of answering. My breathing slowed when I heard his fake laugh.

My heart started to return to its normal rate the longer I listened to my husband's voice.

"That's sweet," I said, "if I believed you."

"What do you mean?" He chuckled.

"There is something you're not telling me, so talk. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing's on my mind," he instantly brushed off.

"Honey," I sighed, "you should be getting into your rocket and racing up into the atmosphere. And yet, here you are, calling your wife instead."

"To be fair," he said, clearing his throat, "I call you more than my friends call their wives."

"John," I said, softening my voice. "Why did you call me instead of getting on your rocket and making history?"

"I guess," he sighed, "I'm a little worried."

"About the landing coordinates?" I asked, remembering our call the other night. "I thought that woman, Katherine, checked them."

During their last test run, John had a weird feeling about the landing coordinates. The men in the "big room", as John calls it, kept reassuring him that all the numbers were right. He ignored them and asked if the woman he met in a meeting weeks ago, who proved she was smarter than their computers, could look at them.

After she got the landing coordinates even more specific than their original calculations, John only trusted her. I still remember how excited he was about working with Katherine. He went on and on about how much he wishes I could meet her. After hearing him talk about her and how she'll most likely save his life, I wanted to meet her, too.

"She did," he agreed. "She is even double-checking them now."

"Okay," I said slowly. "So, what is it?"

"Nothing," he tried to lie again.

"John, I know you. Something's wrong. Talk to the woman you promised to always tell the truth to."

"Sweetie," he laughed awkwardly, "there is a room full of NASA officials listening in on this call."

"Come on, baby," I said with a soft giggle. I needed to sound normal because he didn't. "We have been married for three years, dated for two years before that. I know you, Johnny. Talk to me. What's the real reason you interrupted your big takeoff to call me?"

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard him sigh. "I needed to hear your voice," he said, his voice dropping. "I was walking toward the rocket and suddenly froze."

"What made you freeze?" I asked gently.

"You," he said, his voice breaking. "I realized that my mission may not end well and that I may never hear your voice again. And I needed to hear your voice again, baby. I needed to hear you tell me that you loved me. One last time."

I waited for my voice to return and for the frog in my throat to go away. When I finally found my voice, it was soft.

"I love you, John," I whispered. "I have been madly in love with you since we were in high school. When you finally looked at me, I thought the world had stopped. The first time you kissed me, I knew that you were the only guy for me. When we got married, I knew that my life was perfect. I am so proud of you, baby. You are changing the world. I love you."

I smiled when I heard him let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, gorgeous," he whispered. "I really needed to hear that. I love you so much, darling."

"Be safe up there, Rocket Man," I teased.

"I will," he chuckled, finally starting to sound like himself. "Besides, I can't leave my gorgeous wife alone in this world. She needs her Marine Corps pilot turned astronaut."

"I love my Marine Corps pilot turned astronaut," I giggled.

"And I love my wife," he instantly said. "I'll see you as soon as I get back into orbit."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Dancing To Break Open – Glen Powell

Glen's POV

"And cut!"

Y/N and I instantly relaxed. The cameras moved off of us, and we shared a small smile.

"We're done."

"Yes, we are," she chuckled. She may have said that lightly, but something was off.

"Any plans for tonight?" I asked, trying to get her to open up a little.

Y/N and I have worked on Twisters for a little over a month now. We didn't quite have the kind of costar connection I wish we had. Whenever I asked her to hang out or get drinks after work, she'd thank me for the invite, but say she can't. She never gives me an explanation. Just promises that we'll hang out another time. We never do.

"I've gotta work on memorizing my lines," she instantly answered. "These scientific terms are going to destroy me."

She sent me a soft smile before turning on her heel and heading toward her trailer.

I thought it was a one-time thing. It wasn't. Y/N acted the same the next day. But this time, I didn't let her think no one noticed.

When we got to work the next day, I asked her how her night was. She smiled, shrugged, and said it was fine.

I couldn't help but keep my eye on her throughout the day. First look, she seemed fine. But if you looked closer and longer, you could see that something was weighing on her shoulders. I pushed aside my worry about her and got ready for the scene.

Y/N and I stood in front of the fake laptop, pretending to analyze what will be CGIed onto it.

"So this is an EF1, perfect conditions," I recited. "Run your experiment, see if it works."

"Okay," Y/N said as she pretended to look at the notebook and type in the numbers, "so, um, 1,500 kilos of polymer absorbing 300 times its weight."

"So, it's 450,000 kilos of precipitation loading into our water-filled polymer to load the updraft. Let's see how the model responds," I recited.

"Buoyancy of the rising air is reducing," Y/N said as we watched the green screen."

"It's reducing," I repeated. "Slowing the updraft."

"Temp is going down."

"Kate?" I waited a second before softly saying. "Kate, in theory, this should've worked."

Y/N looked up at me and said, "In theory." We held our eye contact for a second before she looked back at the screen. "But it wasn't an EF1 that day. I mean. . . We never had a chance."

"You want one?"

I looked at Y/N and waited for her to look at me. When she did, we held our eye contact longer. Eventually, Y/N looked at the barrels behind me. I turned, following her gaze. We held that spot for another second, waiting for Lee to yell cut.

"Cut!" He finally yelled. "Nicely done, you two!"

I looked back at Y/N expecting to see her excitedly smiling at me, but she wasn't. She was looking at her hands. I opened my mouth to say something to her, but closed it when I realized that whatever I said, she'd just lie to me again. Instead of talking to her, I decided to do something else.

I grabbed her hand and spun her around. She gasped when I spun her around. As I pulled her into my chest and started dancing with her, she giggled.

"Glen," she elongated, "what are you doing?"

"What?" I shrugged. "Anything wrong with wanting to dance with a pretty girl?"

Y/N giggled as I spun her around. When she was back in my arms, she looked up at me through her eyelashes.

"Nothing," she whispered. "Absolutely nothing."

We kept our eye contact as we swayed side to side. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. As we danced, my mind filled with questions.

Was Y/N embarrassed?

Was she struggling with something in her personal life?

Did she think she wasn't good enough to be in our movie?

Was it something I did?

Did I make her uncomfortable?

Was someone bothering her on set?

Was Y/N in trouble?

That thought made me finally speak up. "Y/N, I can't shake the feeling that something is going on," I started. "You can talk to me. I'm not going to tell anyone. Plus, maybe I can help you. Am I wrong? Y/N, are you in some sort of. . ."

"Alright," Lee laughed. "As cute as it is to watch the two of you dance, let's get things ready for the next scene."

Before I could do anything or say anything, Y/N walked away. Despite my attempts throughout the day, I couldn't talk to Y/N again. It seemed as if we were never alone. I walked out of my trailer tired from filming, but annoyed that I couldn't talk to Y/N.

As I was leaving, I walked past Y/N's trailer. I froze when I saw the light still on inside. I didn't hesitate.

I walked to her trailer and knocked on the door. I waited for her to say something, but she didn't. Slowly, I opened the door and peeked my head in. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Y/N asleep on her couch. I walked in and knelt next to her.

"Y/N," I whispered. I gently touched her on her shoulder to wake her up. I struggled to ignore the feeling in my stomach as she slowly woke up.

"Glen?" She sleepily mumbled.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," I teased.

She sat up and instinctively fixed her hair. "Why are you asleep in your trailer and not at home?"

Her eyes slightly widened. She opened and closed her mouth, clearly trying to come up with a lie.

"Y/N," I said gently, "please. What's going on? I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong."

"It's nothing," she instantly stuttered. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

When she still refused to say anything, I grabbed her hand and sat next to her.

"Please, Y/N," I whispered. "Talk to me."

"It's stupid," she said, her eyes on our hands. I intertwined our fingers to try and get Y/N to look up at me. I smiled when she did.

"I bet it's not," I gently teased. She studied me for a second before sighing.

"I broke up with an old co-star of mine," she confessed, her voice soft. "Our movie ended, and we were never around each other. The longer we went without seeing each other, I realized that I wasn't in a rush to see him. You know? And I don't want a relationship like that. I want a guy I can't wait to see. A guy that if I go even one day without seeing him, it's too long. I want a guy who is eager to see me, too."

"I get that," I said gently. "He wasn't that guy, so you broke up with him."

"Not a first," she sighed. My heart sank when she looked away from me. "I tried to talk to him about this. He brushed it off. It turned into a fight, and that's when I found out that he was only with me because he thought it would improve his career."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," I said, subconsciously scooting closer to her.

"I told him I wasn't going to be used," she said, her voice breaking.

"Good for you," I tried to praise her. "How long ago was this?"

"A week?" Her voice broke again, causing me to move closer to her. "I got a call from him a couple of days ago. He was clearly drunk and swore to ruin my career, my name. . . my life."

"He threatened you?" I asked, my jaw clenched. My tone of voice made Y/N look up at me, shock clearly written on her face.

"He hasn't done anything," she said slowly.

"Is this why you're afraid to go home?" I asked, struggling to control my anger. She looked away, giving me her answer. I took a shaky breath to try and calm down before standing up and pulling her with me.

"What are you. . ." She stuttered.

"I'm taking you home," I said, not noticing my jaw was still clenched until I spoke. "And if that guy is anywhere near you. . ."

"Glen, stop," she said, pulling on my arm and turning me toward her.

"I am not going to let him hurt you."

"I don't think he will," she said, but there was fear in her eyes. "I'm probably just overreacting."

"But. . ."

"I'm fine," she cut me off.

"I will let you go home under one condition," I offered. "You promise to call me if your ex ever shows up."

"Glen. . ."

"I mean it, Y/N," I cut her off. "I need to know that if something ever goes wrong, you'll call me so I can come help you. If I let you go home and something happens to you. . ."

"It wouldn't be your fault," she continued when I didn't. Without thinking, I gently put my hands on her arms, rubbing them up and down.

"I couldn't handle if something happened to you and I wasn't there to protect you."

"It's not your job to protect me," she tried to joke.

"What if I want it to be?"

My question surprised her.

"Why would you want it to be?" She asked slowly.

I smiled as I took a step closer to her. I heard her gasp when I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "Because," I whispered, "I want to be the guy who is dying to see you all day. The guy who can't wait to leave work and wrap you in his arms. A guy that if I go even one day without seeing you, it's too long. I want to be eager to see you."

"You do?"

To answer her question, I leaned in and gently kissed her. My heart jumped into my throat when she slowly started to kiss me back. Any happiness I had disappeared when she suddenly broke the kiss.

"I can't. . ." She stuttered, shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling her into my chest to keep her from walking away.

"This is what happened with him," she said, her eyes on our shoes. "We dated because we were filming together. Our feelings were only attached to our movie and our characters' relationship. That's what's going on here, Glen. Can't you see? You don't like me. Your character likes my character. I can't. . . I can't do this again, Glen. I'm sorry."

She started to walk away, but I caught her wrist. I turned her around and instantly connected my lips to hers. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against hers.

"It'll be different, Y/N," I whispered. "I promise."

Masterlist

[allthingsfangirl101]

Harsh Fights and Harsher Revelations – Glen Powell

"Hey, honey!" I called out.

"Yeah?" I heard Glen call from upstairs.

"Are we busy this weekend? I was hoping to go through that stuff I inherited after my grandpa died. I can do it myself, but it would be easier if. . ."

I turned around and instantly froze when I saw Glen walking down the stairs with a small suitcase.

"Or not," I mumbled. I looked up at him and instantly saw him avoiding my eyes. I crossed my arms over my chest and asked, "Did you forget something, Glen?"

"No," he shrugged. "I packed for three days. I've got my phone and iPad chargers. I've got my. . ." He stopped listing off his things when he looked up at me and saw the look on my face. "What?" He asked.

"We have dinner with my parents this weekend," I said, my stomach dropping when I realized he completely forgot about dinner and telling me he was going out of town. "My aunt and uncle are in town. They were really looking forward to seeing you. They haven't seen us since the wedding."

"Sorry," he said a little too nonchalantly. "They texted all of us yesterday. Apparently, there was some issue with the lighting or sound mike or something. They need us back for reshoots all weekend."

"Texted you yesterday," I mumbled.

"What?" Glen sighed.

"You've known since yesterday that you were going out of town and you'd be gone for three days."

"So?"

"So?" I scoffed, unable to control my anger any longer. "So," I elongated, "you should've told me."

"Y/N. . ."

"Glen, we've been married three years."

"I know that," he said through his teeth.

"Meaning, we should be better at communicating at this point," I sighed.

"My job constantly pulls me away from home randomly and at the last minute," he scoffed as he started to walk past me. "You knew that three years ago."

"You're right," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "but I also thought we were in this marriage together."

"That is not fair," he snapped. "We are in this marriage together, Y/N, but there are some things that we can't control."

"But you can control when you tell me about your work changing things out of our control."

"I can't talk right now," he said, walking toward the front door. "I'm going to be late."

"Go ahead," I scoffed. "Walk away. It's what you're good at."

"Why are you acting like this is all my fault?" Glen snapped. "I never complain when you leave town without telling me."

"My father had a stroke, Glen!" I yelled. "I had to leave. And if I remember correctly, I called you several times, left you numerous messages, and texted you three times, so you knew. I even left you a note on the kitchen table. Yes, I left suddenly. But I made sure you knew about it. That's why I'm angry, Glen. I'm angry because you run off without telling me. You have to tell me these things. What if this weekend was our son's or daughter's birthday? Would you have left without telling us you then, too?"

"We won't have to worry about that if we don't have kids," he said harshly.

"What?" I gasped.

"I just mean. . . With my career. . . I'm gone a lot," he finally got out. "I don't want to leave you behind to raise our children alone."

I took a step back, my eyes filling with tears. "So what?" I challenged. "You don't want kids? What changed? I thought you've always wanted kids."

I shook my head when he didn't respond. He went to grab my hand, but I pulled my hand out of his reach.

"You should go," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Can't be late for your big important job."

I didn't walk him to his car or kiss him through the open window. Instead, I headed up to our room and turned on the shower. I didn't get in. Instead, I sat on the bathroom floor. I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

I leaned my forehead on one of my knees and let the tears fall. The sob got stuck in my throat when I heard the front door open and close.

* * * * *

I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing. As soon as it stopped ringing, it started again. I rolled over and fought the tears. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I left my phone behind. I busied myself as much as I could.

When I finally looked at my phone three hours later, I ignored the unanswered calls, unheard voicemails, and unread messages. What grabbed my attention was that one of those unread texts was from one of Glen's costars, Monica Barbaro.

Monica a.k.a Phoenix 🐦‍🔥 Hey, girly. Glen walked in today completely in his head. We've all tried to get him to open up, but he just grunts and walks away. Did something happen? Did you guys get into a fight?

With the text was a picture of Glen in his Top Gun: Maverick flight costume. He was lying on the back cushions of a couch with his hand on his head. My eyes filled with tears as I saw the pain in his.

My hand was shaking as I closed the Messaging app and opened the Phone app. I took a shaky breath as I pushed on his contact. The phone didn't even ring a full ring before he answered.

"I am so sorry, baby," he rushed out the second he answered. "I was an asshole. I shouldn't have said any of that. I didn't mean any of it, darling. Well, I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to leave you, raising the kids, alone. I was such an asshole before I left yesterday. I am so sorry. I promise that I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I will do everything on your "Honey Do" list. I will do all the house chores for a year. I will go to dinner with your parents every weekend. I will be the designated driver for you and your girlfriends the next time you guys have a girls' night. I will do absolutely anything you want. . ."

"Glen," I cut him off. I couldn't help but smile when he instantly stopped talking. "I only need to know one thing."

"Anything," he said instantly.

"Do you want kids?" As soon as I asked him my question, I held my breath. I couldn't help it. My heart jumped into my throat when he sighed.

"Honey," he said, his voice soft, "I absolutely want to have kids."

I let out a shaky breath, tears of relief filling my eyes. Glen must've heard it because he said, "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, my voice breaking. "It's just. . . It's a relief to hear that because. . ."

When I didn't finish my sentence, Glen gasped. "Wait. . . Are you. . ."

"I'm not sure," I said quickly. "I'm a few days late. It might be, but I'm a little hesitant to take a test."

"How come?"

"I'm scared," I admitted. "Things have been a little. . . rocky lately."

"Not anymore," Glen said quickly. "I promise, gorgeous. Things will be better. You should buy a test, though."

"I know," I sighed. I paused before adding, "I'd rather not be alone when I take it."

"How about this?" He asked, the tone of his voice completely changing. "Go to the drug store and pick up a test. Wait to take it until I get home. That way, no matter the results, you're not alone."

"Thank you," I whispered. Suddenly, a gentle silence fell between us. I could hear him breathing, and I'm sure he could hear me too.

"I love you so much, darling," he whispered, breaking the silence. "And I am so sorry for our stupid fight yesterday. I was an ass to you, but I promise that I will never treat you like that again. I will never walk away from a fight or you, ever again. I promise."

"And I promise to always trust you," I said, tears filling my eyes. "I promise to talk to you when I'm feeling worried or if I just miss you and need some extra husband-wife time. I love you, Glen. I don't want to do any of this without you. But I know your job. I know that there are things you can't control. I know that there will be times when I have to do things alone. I promise, during those times, to always keep you updated. No matter where you are, we are in this together."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Life As Roommates – Charlie

Charlie and I have been friends since our freshman year of college. We were only in one class together, but our roommates ended up dating. This caused us to hang out all the time. After we graduated, Charlie got a job as this bigshot, Rick's assistant. I got a job as a freelance photographer. I worked for different magazines and websites.

I walked in from a long day of photographing a company's picnic/PR stunt. I kicked off my shoes and hung my keys by the door. I instantly went to my room and changed out of my work clothes. I slipped on a loose tank top and a pair of short shorts. I slipped on my slipper/sandals and left my room. When I walked into our family room, I wasn't surprised by what I saw: Charlie sitting in his work shirt and tie, boxers, and socks, drinking a beer.

"You're home earlier than normal," I teased him. I sat in one of our chairs and grabbed an extra beer he had on the table. I suddenly felt a little self-conscious when Charlie's eyes scanned my legs as I mirrored how he was sitting. I cleared my throat and asked, "Booty call or temper tantrum?"

"Temper tantrum," Charlie sighed, leaning his head against the top of the couch. "It's always a temper tantrum with Rick."

"Why do you work for that asshat?" I asked, trying to sound more teasing than worried.

"He's got his good qualities."

"Like what?" I scoffed.

We had a small staring contest with playful "serious" looks on our faces. Charlie opened and closed his mouth, but ended up sighing.

"You got me," he said, lifting his beer to his lips. I looked away when I noticed I was watching him take a drink a little too long.

"How was your day at work?"

"The usual," I brushed off. "I spent five hours on my feet, taking fake action shots of this company picnic they set up for their website. By the end of the day, I swore never to use that law firm. I mean it, Charlie. If I ever get arrested, don't you dare call Johnson and Morris."

Charlie laughed as he crossed his heart and said, "I promise."

We spent the next little while talking about our days. The more Charlie talked about his work, the more I wanted to go to his work and punch Rick in his stupid, controlling face.

Charlie was in the middle of explaining Rick's fourth temper tantrum of the day when I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I spend my day chasing him around, following his orders," he sighed. "You'd think I'd be used to him telling me twenty things and only remembering the last thing he said, getting furious when I complete the first 19 but not the last 1."

"Yeah," I couldn't stop myself from scoffing. "He's your puppetmaster, right? And a puppet must do what his master tells him to."

I froze, my beer inches from my lips, when Charlie looked up. We had an oddly intense staring contest as I waited for him to say something.

"I'm not. . . He isn't my. . . It's not that bad."

"Isn't it?" I challenged. I put my beer down and ignored what sounded like Charlie's breath getting caught in his throat as I stood up.

"He's my boss," he stuttered. "I have to do what he says."

"Sure," I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. My heart did something weird when Charlie's eyes briefly glanced down at my chest. "But Rick takes it way too far. He constantly verbally abuses you as he barks his orders at you. Those orders that he instantly forgets, changes, and then blows up on you when you double-check his change. You told me, literally yesterday, that Rick had a full-grown tantrum and destroyed the science project you worked all day on."

"But. . ."

"Charlie," I cut him off, "when was the last time you were home before six o'clock? When was the last time you left, not feeling like shit? When was the last time you had a low-stress day? When was the last time you didn't hate your job?"

My heart sank when he opened and closed his mouth, unable to answer any of my questions.

"That's what I thought," I sighed. I turned around and started grabbing his many empty beer bottles. I stared at all the bottles and remembered when he'd only have one beer at night.

I didn't look up at Charlie as I turned around and started carrying the bottles to the kitchen. As I passed him, I mumbled, "I kinda miss the days I came home and didn't find you half-naked on our couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles."

* * * * *

The next night was the same. Well, actually different. Charlie wasn't home when I got home. It was exactly the same because it was his work that was ruining his night.

I made myself some dinner, constantly listening for the door to open or for my phone to ring. After I ate and before I hopped in the shower, I sent Charlie a text.

Me Hey, I know you're probably working late (again), but I made some dinner and left you a plate. It's already in the microwave. Just heat it up for a minute and a half. Don't get home too late.

When I got out of the shower, he still hadn't come home. I got ready for bed and decided to make myself some tea, mainly stalling and seeing if Charlie would come home before I needed to go to bed.

I waited for almost two hours, but Charlie still hadn't come home. I sighed and gave up. I took my teacup and washed it in the kitchen sink. After hand-drying it, I finally heard the front door unlock and open as I hand-dried the cup.

I looked over my shoulder as he walked in.

"Oh," he whispered. "I figured you'd be in bed already."

"Almost," I said, turning back around. I put the cup back in the cabinet and walked past him. He grabbed my arm, stopping me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know my job can be a lot, but it's good for me. I'm getting a lot of experience and making a lot of connections."

"You don't get it," I scoffed, pulling my arm out of his hold.

"Y/N," he tried to stop me, but I shook my head.

"You're changing," I said, my voice slightly breaking.

"What?"

"Admit it," I said, unable to stop my voice from breaking. "You've worked with him for what? Three years? And in those three years, you've changed. You are always rushing to Rick's side. You miss things for him. You ignore me."

"I don't ignore you," he tried to defend himself.

"Yes, you do," I whispered. I sighed and cleared my throat. "How many times have you ditched Roommate Dinner? Or Roommate Movie Night? Or Roommate Drink and Bitch?"

"Y/N. . ."

"I miss you, Charlie," I cut him off. "I miss my roommate. I miss. . . I miss my best friend."

I waited for him to say something – anything – but he just stared at me. The longer it took for him to respond, the more the tears built. I angrily wiped a stray tear before walking away from him.

"I swear," I mumbled, "if I lose you to that asshole, Rick won't have to worry about his career anymore. I'll end it in ten minutes."

* * * * *

I held my breath when I heard him unlock the front door. I couldn't see him, but I knew exactly what he was doing. I know what he sounds like coming home. I heard him kick off his shoes. I heard him hang up his keys. I heard him walk down the hall.

I kept my eyes glued to my book as he walked into the room. It was hard, but I didn't look at him as he froze.

"Hey," he greeted me. I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him walk over and sit on the coffee table.

"Y/N," he said in a sing-songy voice. "Talk to me."

My heart jumped into my throat when he carefully took the book out of my hands. I watched him as he put my bookmark where I was and placed the book on the table next to him. The second he looked back at me, I looked away. 

"I need your help, Y/N," he said in the tone of voice he only used when he was up to something.

"With what?" I sighed, still not looking at him.

"Finding a new job."

His statement made my head snap toward him. "You want to. . . Really?"

He smiled at my question. He reached over and grabbed my hands. "I quit," he told me. "After talking to you last night, I realized you were right. I was turning into Rick. When you walked away last night, I realized I didn't want to be him. I want to be me. But more importantly, I want to be the guy you turn to, not the guy you walk away from."

I studied him closely as he waited for my response. "Did you really quit?" I asked, my voice slightly breaking.

"I did," he smiled with a small chuckle. "I am officially done with Rick and his. . ."

I cut him off by jumping off the couch and hugging him. We both laughed when we fell backwards. Somehow, Charlie maneuvered us so we landed on the floor with him under me.

He slightly shifted us so he was hovering over me. As we lay there, it felt like something shifted between us. My guess was confirmed when Charlie leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started kissing him back as I reached up and loosely wrapped my arms around his neck. When neither one of us could breathe, Charlie broke the kiss.

"Well," I said, slightly clearing my throat, "this complicates our living situation."

"It doesn't have to," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked, insecurities hitting me all at once.

Charlie smirked as he stood up, gently pulling me with him. When we were standing, he pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"What if we weren't roommates anymore?" He asked, leaning in. He stopped when our faces were inches apart. My heart felt like it was in my throat as he reached up and moved some hair out of my face. I smiled when he left his hand on my chin.

"What if we were more? I don't know about you," he teased, "but I wouldn't mind if we were more. I've thought about it. A LOT."

"Really?"

"Really," he said, somehow pulling me closer. "I have wanted to be so much more than roommates for a lot longer than I should admit."

"Since when?"

"Since before we moved in together," he started to list. "Since my roommate made me go to that bar that one night, our junior year, so I could meet his new girl. Since we spent that whole night telling each other dirt about our roommates. Since we admitted to being okay with being our roommates' buffer friends while they figured their relationship out. Since we ran into each other at the party that our roommates each dragged us to, and then disappeared. Since we shared the cab and you fell asleep on my shoulder. Since I walked you up to your apartment and mentally begged for you to invite me in."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, my voice dropping. "Why didn't you ever ask me out?"

"Because I was a coward," he sighed. "I thought that I was just your roommate's boyfriend's roommate."

"You were," I teased. He sent me a playful glare, but it didn't last long. All teasing and jokes dropped as I added, "But I wanted you to be more."

Our staring contest got intense as Charlie pulled me closer. He smiled before pressing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around him and started roughly kissing him back.

As our lips moved in sync, Charlie pulled me to the couch. We collapsed onto the couch, instantly in each other's arms. Without breaking the kiss, Charlie pulled me until I was straddling his lap. He broke the kiss and moved his lips to my neck.

"Charlie," I moaned. I couldn't help but shiver when he bit my collarbone. He leaned back with a smirk on his face. His smirk fell when he saw the look on my face.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"We need to think this through," I sighed. "This is going to change things. And once we change them, we can't change them back."

"I don't want to change them back," he said without a second of hesitation. "I want to do this, Y/N. I want you."

"Good," I whispered. "Because I don't want to change them back either. I want to do this, too, Charlie. I want you."

I gasped when he stood up with me in his arms. He didn't break our eye contact as he carried me to my room. I didn't realize how hard I was breathing until he gently put me on the bed, crawling over me.

"Last chance."

"What?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Last chance to stop before we cross this line."

I reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt. He gasped, but it quickly turned into a moan when I ripped open his work shirt.

"I have no intention of going back."