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insirisarts · 4 months ago

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Poppy Avenue: The Auditions

Original concept by @babyblankyerror

Expanded by @aroace-get-out-of-my-face

This was a bad idea, Stanley Pines decided.

Come on, what was he thinking? Voice acting, really? He had been smoking since 17 and he thought, even if only for a moment, that he could voice act. And it had only taken that stupid little moment for him to decide not only that he could do that, but as a puppet for a kids show. A. Kids. Show. No wonder everyone thought he was an idiot.

Stan wanted to run and go die in a ditch somewhere. Hell, that may be just what he does after whatever producers tell him to fuck right off. What was the studio called again? What was the show even called? Pepper str- no, sesame… road? Whatever, it didn’t matter. All Stan knew was that he was royally screwed.

Why did he think he could do this again? Maybe it was nostalgia, remembering all of his favorite kids shows. Maybe he thought that he could sham these show folks out of their equipment. Maybe… He just wanted a chance at something normal. He was getting nowhere with his StanCo products, and wasting all of his money on new commercials wasn’t really in his current budget. Besides, it wasn't like he was really risking that much here.

The production was small. Very small. The fact that the flyers stapled throughout the city stated that they would take anyone willing to lend their voice or hands was proof enough. The fact that they let Stan, in all of his smelly, dirty, homeless glory, inside was proof enough. Although, he probably shouldn't have been that surprised. Hardly anyone else was at the auditions. Granted it didn’t help that this was happening early on a Wednesday. Not to mention, all of them were young. Stan was probably the oldest guy there. And it was also likely that, like him, no one here had any experience to speak of.

Although, who were these big-ish wigs, to judge? They were holding auditions in a dinky old warehouse that smelt like a gas spill and sadness. Stan wasn’t really able to say anything though. Already it was better than the Stanmobile, even though he would never dare say such things to the old girl, being far more insulated and protected from the outside elements. At least Stan would be protected from the early March weather here.

Looking around, he counted at least ten other people who had arrived for the auditions, three older teens and the rest young adults. Not only that, but they all seemed to be in the same boat as Stan. All down on their luck; a little scruffy, disheveled, and tired.

All around the warehouse were boxes of equipment: cameras, mics, lights, rolls of film and plenty of other things Stan didn’t recognize. Closer to him was the temporary set, obviously built in a rush. The paint still had that wet sheen and there were rough splintered corners on the shoddily cut wood. Whatever these producers were planning, it was cheap, rushed and likely barely expanded on besides a prayer and getting people to come to it. Speaking of.

There were three people sitting off to the side at one of those white plastic folding tables, slightly better dressed than the other people in the room. When Stan had come in, they had asked him to sign a paper on an old clipboard then go stand by the sets. Currently they were whispering at each other, some harsh, some exasperated, all of it unintelligible. Occasional glances over the shoulder marked parts of the discussion. One of them had glasses, he noted.

Stan sighed; he was bored. He thought it was going to be like the movies, where they just had each person come up and read off of a script in some goofy voice, with a lot less standing around. His mistake. Although, he was also pretty sure that this wasn’t how it was done either. But again, what did he know?

A clap sounded from the white table, reverberating in the hollow walls of the warehouse, making Stan and the others flinch. They all turned towards the group of producers, who all stood in an unorganized semi-circle. The tallest one, a darker man with well-trimmed hair, addressed the group.

“Hello, and thank you all for coming in today!” he greeted, stepping forward. “I am Lloid Henson, the director for Poppy Avenue. The fine gentleman here-” He gestured to his left, where a freckled man in a familiar looking button up, sweater vest and glasses combo stood, Stan did his best not to flinch. “-Is Jim Cooney, he made both our sets and the puppets for today. And this lovely lady-” He then gestured to his right, to a small, chubbier girl, dressed in a cute combination of a long-sleeved shirt and overalls. “-Is Joan Morrisett. Our writer.” Both of Lloid’s colleagues waved and gave small greetings.

Stan honestly couldn't tell if the three had been friends already or if they all had just come together to make this puppet show, but either way, none of them looked like they knew what they were doing. Then again, it’s not like Stan knew how these things worked either. Neither did anyone else, if their pinched glances to one another said anything. He nearly snorted at the idea. No one here knew what they were doing. Except, maybe, Lloyd. At least, in the sense of working on a film set.

Not that any of it would matter to Stan anyway. He really didn’t think they were going to go for him. He didn’t have the voice built for a kids show no matter how he pushed it. That is, unless he played a villain, but he seriously doubted that this was the kind of show to have villains.

He and the others watched as the three producers walked to one of the box stacks, grabbed one of the bigger ones, and brought it to the make-shift stage. Then dump the contents onto the hopefully non-staining plywood.

Frankly, Stan didn’t know what he expected. Most of the puppets and props looked to be hastily thrown together, even though they did seem to hold some level of quality. They appeared to be early mockups of scattered ideas, shoved together in the hope that one would inspire the notion of an idea. They looked… very homemade. That was him being kind about it.

None of them looked bad, but it was obvious that they were all mishmashed together. All the same, it didn’t stop any of them from approaching the pile of fabric and plastic. Almost immediately, Stan found his attention being drawn to a rather ugly green sock. The green was an offshoot that lied closer to yellow, the sock itself had been altered to have two stuffed arms that ended in nubs that in extension had a nub to act as a “thumb”. The puppet’s face had a large orangish nose, and large simple felt eyes that sat just above it, a pair of wire-framed glasses were taped to its face, giving it a nerdy appearance. The simple vest and bowtie didn’t help matters.

Stan knew that the puppet had to be based on Jim, but still, he couldn’t help but see-.

No. No he will not think about Him. It's not worth the heartache. He knows better than to start longing now. They won’t want to see him until he has millions, He needs him to make up for his mistakes, he needs to remember that. This is his attempt to finally make something more of himself other than a homeless vagrant. More than a criminal. More than the dumb twin. More than the spare.

While Stan buried himself deep into thought, the producers finally began their explanation of what it is he and the others were there for. They were to pick a puppet, along with any props, and a pre-written script, then act out a scene with the puppet. Once again Stan could feel his nerves fray as everyone began grabbing up the cloth patchworks on the set. Quickly, he snatched up the ugly green sock and meandered towards a separate white fold-out table where piles of paper sat.

Each script had a defining title: The Kid, The Parents, The Neighbor and so-on. However, Stan was scanning over the names with a simple idea in mind. He knew what he was searching for. Soon, he found his prize: The Scientist. This was likely his only chance at avoiding resorting to asking for questionable loans that he could never pay off, he needed to make it count.

The others had done almost the same as him, sans the immediate actions he took, they actually sat there and thought about their decisions. Each one glancing over their options. Stan hadn’t really taken the time to take the others in, outside of surface-level group observations. They were all vastly different looking, he noted. People from all demographics: man, woman, some where he couldn’t tell, child, adult, tall, short, fat, skinny, and some were of different backgrounds that he hadn’t seen often in Jersey. One, he noted, even appeared to have a cane, perhaps a lame leg? Another seemed to be missing some fingers. Many of them were like him. Someone who was desperate and needed this one chance.

He meandered back to the homemade pile to look at the left-over props as a majority of the others went to the script table. As he looked over the leftovers, one of the teens, a girl with wild, short, curly hair spoke up.

“Why did you decide to try this out?” It was innocent in delivery, and Stan could hear a subtle South American accent, Brazil, maybe? She had a sweet face, still a bit rounded with baby fat. She held a small felt puppet, with red yarn hair and a cute green dress. The Girl’s dark brown eyes look up at him with a shy curiosity.

“Need work” Stan replied simply. Before he could stop himself, he then continued. “You?” He wanted to hit himself; he shouldn’t be making small talk with these people. He probably wouldn’t get past his first line before they decide to have him leave.

“Mama saw the flyers, and suggested I try it out. Said it was because I had a good attitude for it.” She responded. Doing it ‘cause of her ma? Respectable, Stan supposed. “I’m a little nervous though, I haven’t really acted in front of adults before.” Her face began to turn red in embarrassment.

“Bah! The most these guys will say is ‘thank you’ then move on, I wouldn’t set your eyes fully on this. There are always other options.” He had to learn that the hard way. He wouldn’t let this little girl have that same crushing feeling. Although, his options had all run dry by now. At this point he noticed her looking at him intently.

Her eyes grazed over him for a few moments. Studying him. It made Stan want to curl up and disappear. Who did she think she was? Didn’t her ma teach her it’s rude to stare? Rather than voicing this, he merely just huffed and quickly grabbed some fake plastiglas cups and some sticks, then briskly walked away.

What was he doing? He probably just screwed himself over with that! First of all, he was a full-grown man talking to a kid. Then snuffing her instead of ending things politely. Good going, moron…

This all was a bad idea. He never should have come at all. But he had already gotten this far, he needs to finish what he’s started. Stan sat down on one of the many boxes scattered throughout the warehouse and began reading his script. Only to pause mid-reading.

Sure, the letters were kinda scrambled and flipped, and the words were moving on the page, but-. How old was this show’s demographic again? Second graders? Stan may have been dumb, but he remembered a better way to learn about basic physics as a kid. Sure, He had been the one to teach him that way, but still, he understood that better at that age than he did this.

Maybe he could change it just a little bit? Simplify? Although, the producers likely wouldn’t like it if he changed their scripts. However, Stan knew what it was like to be the kid who was called stupid because he didn’t understand the topic that was being taught.

…Who wrote these again? The short girl. Joan Morrisett?

Looking around, he quickly spotted the women responsible for the scripts watching the others search for the script they wanted to try out with. Anxiously, he walked to the writer. As he got closer, he found a stiff weight firmly planting itself inside of his gut and heat rising up his face. He shouldn’t do this, it’s rude, but it’s not like Stan Pines ever gave much mind to being rude before.

Before he could stop himself, he came to a stop beside the young woman and cleared his throat.

“Uhm… hay uh…” Stan mumbled, only to pause as the shorter girl jumped in surprise.

“Oh!” Joan startled, snapping around to look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” She gave him a pleasant smile. “Did you need something?”

“Uh… kinda?” Stan shrugged. “Just a question, or a suggestion, I guess, from someone considered an idiot, y’know? Someone who was a kid who struggled in school?” His face was getting warmer by the second, his eyes looking everywhere besides in front of him.

“Alright,” She answered kindly. “Go right ahead.”

Stan, once again, cleared his throat. Rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension. “The science script. I have the whole Idea down… but looking at it… it reminds me of how I struggled in school, and how nothing the teachers taught me stuck. It was through a-” Damnit, he shouldn’t mention Him. Quick. Lie. “-close friend that I ever really learned anything. He helped me where teachers couldn’t, I was just wondering if I could… uh.” He stuttered. “Minorly alter the wording of the script, just a little!” he emphasized, panicked. He never should have asked-!

“Oh, alright! Although could you point out the section to me, so I get an idea of what you’re describing?” She slightly peaked over to look at the script Stan held. Nervously, he tilted it in her direction and pointed to a segment of text.

“Ah, yeah.” she mumbled, hand lifting to rest on her cheek as she huffed in frustration. “I wasn’t the best at science in school… I don’t really remember much from it either, I was more of an English and performing arts kid, y’know?” She shrugged.

Stan vaguely nodded in general dismissive interest.

“Well, how would you put it then?” She looked to him with a soft, encouraging smile, like the tutors that he would be assigned when he was very young and teachers still had hope for him. It managed to crack something deep inside him. With a preparing breath, he began to explain in the way that He did back then.

-------------------------

The current position Stan was sitting at was uncomfortable at best. He was planted beneath a table with its sides and front covered by a tablecloth, the back open to allow someone to sit slightly under. Stan was taller than the table, even when sitting, so he had to slouch uncomfortably to stay hidden from the producers sitting in front of the stage. The others were off behind the stage, waiting their turns or had already done their auditions. He had been placed firmly in the middle of the lineup, as he and Joan had taken time to alter his script before he read through it.

Around him were many tools of production for a show: lights, those inverted umbrellas that reflected the lights, a boom mic, and one of those expensive colored cameras. He had been asked to give his name, which he gave a fake; Pan Stein, what script he would be performing, and what his puppet's name was. Truely, there was no other option, he wore his inspiration on his sleeve. Dr.Pine, he told them, his puppet’s name would be Dr.Pine. With that done, they directed him to sit behind the table and now he waited for the snapping sound of the clapperboard.

When it finally snapped, Stan swallowed the spit overflowing in his mouth. He staged his puppet climbing an invisible set of stairs under the table, then feigned clearing the puppet’s throat, lifting its fake hands to its mouth. Then, with mild exaggeration to his normal tone, he addressed his audience.

(I can’t write scripts, and I have at least two other parts I want to write for this au, so please be nice and just imagine Stan does a good job and explains things well, I’m not used to writing fanfics yet-)

As Stan stood from behind the table, he briefly glanced at the producers. With a quick giving of thanks, he rushed from the stage and around to the back of the set. Sitting in a cheap folding chair, hunched with his face almost to his knees and cupped in his hands, he let out a deep sigh. His thumbs rubbed his temples, and his palms dug into his eyes as he let himself de-stress from the work of acting. He was usually so good at this, why was he so stressed now? Acting was basically what being a door-to-door salesman was all about, pretending something was amazing so shmuks would buy it.

But now, it felt impossible…

He never should have tried. He should have just cut his losses and took on some loans. Sure, some of the deals were shady, but it couldn’t have been as bad as this. He wasted his time, and these people’s time. All for what? Unbelievable.

His foot came in contact with a plush lump on the floor. The puppet, Dr.Pine. A name both familiar and not in its minor differences. A name for something that was, in all ways that mattered, nothing. A close enough name to someone who couldn't call himself anything close to who he used to be. Man, how deep is he spiraling that he's becoming introspective? Not really his whole thing, dumb twin and all.

Footsteps echoed as Stan registered the newly formed crowd around the back of the set. He must have been in his head for a while; although, it hadn’t felt that long at all. For a moment, he thought he locked eyes with Joan. But, with a blink, the contact disappeared. Must have been mistaken. However, she did tap on Lloyd's shoulder, then whispered to him while vaguely gesturing to Stan. He wanted the floor to devour him.

Lloyd would also momentarily glance at Stan, but his focus was mostly on Joan. This had gone on for maybe a minute, before the taller man approached Stan. He could feel his heart begin to race. Then stop as the main producer did too.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Sir.” He awkwardly began. “My colleague told me about the changes you suggested for the script, and it was based on your struggles in school and with learning.”

Great, now he’s losing an opportunity because he was a dumbass, good going-.

“And I think we might have the perfect position for you if you really are serious about this show. There is some work that could be done for your acting; but it’s only fair since you didn’t have much time.” Lloyd finished, face holding a professional smile.

What? No, really. What? They were offering him the job? Because he wanted to simplify some words? But then again, there is no way he was the only one like this, surely. They wanted him for that? It was that easy?

“Are you sure?” Stan tested, nervous.

“Positive.” Lloyd assured. “That is the whole reason for this show, to help kids who struggle. If you’re up for it. We have a contract you can look over, no strings.”

This was it, Stan processed. This was his chance to get out of this pit he dug. His chance to make something of himself. He somewhat shuffled as Lloyd guided him to a small, makeshift office and handed him a small stack of papers to read over. As his eyes scanned over the somewhat swimming text, he finally made his decision. And grabbed a pen, fake name at his fingertips, soon to be his new life.

Huh, maybe… he could do this.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #science time with dr pine #gravity falls au #au #fanfiction #fanfic #graphic design #science time with dr pines #Both are correct

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novascharms · 5 months ago

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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 2.3 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

fourteen

friday, february 14th

valentine’s day always felt like one of the least captivating “special” days of the year to you.

first off, no one really seemed to know where it came from, beyond vague whispers about saints and martyrs.

second, the idea of dedicating just one day to showering your significant other with love seemed, well, silly. wasn’t every day supposed to feel like valentine’s day when you were in a relationship?

still, you couldn’t deny the history that was known about it was interesting. valentine’s day cards, for example, were centuries old. the tradition dated back to the 1700s, and by the mid-1800s, advances in printing technology made mass-produced cards a staple of the holiday. the earliest known valentine’s message, though, came even earlier—in 1415, charles, duke of orléans, penned a heartfelt poem to his wife while locked away in the tower of london. it was the whole reason why you chose this specific event for valentine's day.

this entire day felt like a nod to history and the wistful romance of charles and his wife. but for you, it didn't make this day less tiring. you’d already been through nearly fifteen classrooms, walking alongside the valentine’s day volunteers as they handed out letters to blushing teenagers. your feet ached from all the pacing, and the constant hum of chatter and giggles was grating. to top it off, you were missing your own classes for this.

the basket in your hands remained stubbornly full, each letter carefully sorted by class. “alright, next class is JL4,” one of the clipboard-wielding volunteers announced. your stomach dipped at the mention of the name—you recognized it immediately as rafe’s class. you let out a soft sigh, steeling yourself, and tried to plaster on the big, cheerful smile you’d been wearing all morning.

the three volunteers, all dressed as cupid, were practically bouncing on their heels as they prepared to enter the next room. they’d tried to convince you to wear the same ridiculous costume—a gaudy red-and-white getup complete with feathered wings—but you’d politely declined, compromising instead with a simple red sweater.

you knock lightly on the door, then ease it open after a beat. “hi, mr. winslow.” your smile is polished, the kind you’ve perfected over the course of this exhausting day. the teacher glances up, already looking amused as his eyes flick past you to the three cupids clustered just behind.

“hello, ms. y/l/n,” he greets, his grin wide and knowing. “how can my class and i assist you today?” it’s clear he already knows exactly why you’re here.

you give a light laugh, slipping into the well-rehearsed script you’ve been reciting all morning. “my cupids and i have some very important mail to deliver.” you step further into the room, maintaining that same bright expression as you gesture to your basket. “and this class happens to be our most popular yet—with a monumental," you pause for a moment to double take your notes, "fifty-six letters.”

the classroom erupts into laughter and chatter, and as you set the basket on the nearest desk, you can already feel the weight of rafe’s gaze. you spot him sitting next to pope, his chair tilted back slightly, that signature grin tugging at his lips.

“dahlia hendrix,” you call out, scanning the organized letters until you find her name. the blonde sitting by the window perks up, her cheeks already flushing. “cupid’s got three letters for you.” you hand the cards to the first cupid, who diligently adds the three accompanying lollipops.

your attention shifts as you fish out the next set. “topper thornton,” you announce, your voice overly sweet as you lock eyes with him. topper—the same guy who’d called you a bitch just last week—smirks, clearly unbothered. “cupid paid you a lovely visit with five letters.” ignoring the boisterous cheering from his group of friends, you pass the stack to another cupid.

your gaze lands on kiara, who’s already shaking her head, visibly unimpressed by the spectacle. “kiara carrera,” you say with a giggle you can’t quite suppress. “four letters for you.” as she begrudgingly takes the cards, you watch her swat away jj’s teasing hands, the corner of your mouth twitching with amusement.

you continue distributing the letters, each name met with varying levels of enthusiasm. “cupid’s got five for jj maybank.” you hand them off. “one for sienna jackson, four for pope heyward, and two for nixon blake .” the room grows louder with every delivery, envelopes being torn open, voices overlapping in excitement.

but there’s one more name to call.

you inhale softly, forcing a smile to hold your composure. “rafe cameron,” you say, your voice steady despite the way your stomach twists. his eyes are already on you, his brow raised in lazy curiosity as he slouches in his chair. “cupid’s got… thirty-eight—"

the room explodes. cheers, whistles, shouts—it’s pandemonium.

“goddamn, cameron!”

“playboyyy!”

“leave some for the rest of us!”

rafe doesn’t join in on the noise. his faint smile doesn’t falter, but he doesn’t look at anyone else either—just you.

you bite down on your tongue, hesitating as you hand off the stack to your waiting cupid. a part of you wants to hold onto them, to stop him from receiving all thirty-eight love letters.

your cupid even needs a separate bag just for the mountain of lollipops meant for him.

“uh, no thanks,” rafe says smoothly, declining the sweets with an effortless shrug. “you can hand those out to the class.” he doesn’t even glance at the towering pile of letters now sitting on his desk, but they feel like they’re mocking you anyway.

grabbing your basket, you turn back to mr. winslow and offer a polite smile, mouthing a quick “thank you.”

“happy valentine’s day, JL4,” you call out, your voice cheery despite the sinking weight in your chest. the class who are now all enjoying rafe's candy, respond in a chaotic chorus, and you’re already stepping out the door, closing it firmly behind you.

thirty-eight cards. thirty-eight. what kind of lunatic receives thirty-eight love letters from girls in the same school? it was absurd, incomprehensible. what was he even doing to these girls? brainwashing them? you could barely fathom the ridiculousness of it all. the thought of ripping every single card to shreds—one by one—flashed vividly in your mind.

“you cannot seriously be mad at me for getting letters from girls i don’t even know.” rafe’s voice carries an amused lilt as he follows you down the empty hallway, the echo of his steps light and unhurried.

“sure, i can,” you snap, pushing open the double doors with more force than necessary. “this is a free country, isn’t it?” your words are sharp, but your pace is sharper, your arm aching from lugging the stupid basket of valentine’s leftovers.

“what was i supposed to do, put out a memo to stop them? you think i orchestrated this?” he asks, his tone threaded with mock innocence as he keeps up with your brisk strides.

you don’t answer, too focused on navigating your way up to the attic. weaving through the maze of dusty boxes and forgotten decorations from past school events, you finally reach the valentine’s day shelf. you place the basket down carefully, feeling the relief in your sore arm but not in your simmering annoyance.

“i think it’s cute,” you say sweetly, the sarcasm practically dripping from your voice. “all those girls just adore you. we should read the letters together, make a night of it. how fun would that be?”

“i know you’re being sarcastic,” he laughs, leaning against a nearby stack of storage bins. “but honestly? it might be hilarious to see what they wrote.”

you roll your eyes, pulling the flower petals out of the basket and carefully pouring them back into their designated bowl. “right. i can already picture it. ‘oh, rafe, i can't stop thinking about your eyes, blue like the sky. let's go skinny dipping on the beach at last light, you can kiss me goodnight.'” your mocking tone grows more dramatic with each word, and you hear his laughter double over behind you.

before you can say more, his arms snake around your waist from behind, and you try to wriggle free, but his grip is firm. “i’ll throw them all out if that’s what you want,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, his lips brushing the shell of it with maddening softness.

you shake your head stubbornly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a real answer. “no,” you mutter, crossing your arms even as his hold on you tightens. “you should put them above your bed. make a shrine out of them.”

his lips find a familiar trail along your neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that make your resolve falter. “i think i kinda like when you’re jealous,” he murmurs, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.

you huff, keeping your eyes locked on the shelf in front of you, determined not to react. “who’s jealous?” you whisper, your voice small, defiant.

you feel him smile against your skin, the curve of it unmistakable, and you purse your lips, refusing to admit how easily he gets to you.

he presses you against him and suddenly, his gentle kisses turn into desperate nipping and soft sucking that flood your entire core with pleasure. you moan softly as his hands travel down, lower and lower until they're under your skirt and he's ripping your tights and panties down to your ankles.

"r-rafe.." you attempt to warn him, to stop him, to tell him this cannot happen in school but his name slips out like a breathless whisper and you can't get yourself to say no to this.

his hands are all over you and your body is suddenly pliant under his touch as he takes one of your tits in hand, "you look so beautiful right now." you can barely focus on his words when his fingers are inching closer and closer to your pussy, tentatively trailing along the walls of your thighs before finally rubbing your pearly clit with his thumb, your eyes flutter shut and you instinctively try to push your thighs shut.

"should take a couple of pictures of you and hang those right above my bed," he muses and you whimper, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as he forces your thighs open. "you'd like that, huh? your pretty cunt on my wall?" his thumb tirelessly rubbed your clit, flicking the little nub till your eyes were tearing up and you were gasping for more.

“more?” he’s taunting, almost mocking you as his fingers trail along your sensitive slit before finding your clit again. “mm,” you whimper as you buck your hips into his hands.

his lips nip at your skin but you can barely process it, you try to stay in the present, try to focus on anything that can ground you but fail miserably, “my fingers? does my pretty girl want my fingers inside her?”

"mhm, y-yes.." you whimper, back arching into his chest and you cry out when his fingers slowly push into your soaking cunt. your walls constrict around him and you're in disbelief at how filling his fingers feel. "rafe! oh, god!" you grip his forearm as he drills his digits in and out of you, fingers curling and pushing deeper and deeper.

you’re writhing against him, trying to stay up right as his fingers clamor in you and his thumb rubs your clit until it’s all sore and swollen. “it’s so g-good.. s’ good..” you mumble lazily, tears streaming down your face and rafe is mouthing at your neck, fingers move at a relentless pace. “c’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

you feel that familiar earth-shattering sensation, a combination of low pressure and deep coiling. your hips jerk against your will and then you’re moaning, eyes closed as you squirt and gush all over rafe’s fingers. “that’s it..that’s it, pretty girl..” rafe mutters quietly as you pant in his arms. you can’t believe that just happened in a storage room on school grounds.

“try to stand still, okay?” he mutters into your ear before he’s letting you go and reaching into your bag that sat forgotten on the floor for a tissue. he cleaned you up gently before pulling your panties and tights over your tights and up again.

you hold onto to the shelf for a moment to not lose your balance before turning to look at him, lazy smile on your face. “another first?” he asks and you’re nodding slowly and leaning up to nuzzle your nose against his. he grins when you cup his cheeks, “i’ve only ever..done it myself and it has never felt quite like that. thank you.” you whisper and rafe pecks your lips, gently, lips brushing against yours. “anytime, baby.”

you wrap your arms around his neck slowly and he pulls you in, body against his as he kisses you again and again and again. “i want you,” you sigh against him when you feel his bulge poking you and he’s smiling against yours lips. “you just had me..” he murmurs. you shake your head, “no..” you whine softly, hands darting down to his bulge and gently running your fingers along it. “want you..” you repeat quietly.

you don’t know where this insatiable feeling is coming from, you don’t understand why you can’t get enough, can’t stop, don’t even want to stop. not even a little bit.

you’re slowly sinking to your knees but rafe stops you with a pained expression, hands on your arms, “you’re not going to give me a blowjob in a storage closet. that would take the cake as the most assholey shit i’ve ever pulled.”

“i want to make you feel good.” you complain softly and he pecks the pout on your lips. “soon, yeah? i promise.”

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa @fveapplestall @chalametlover444 @slutglimreqpers @uarmyhopeworldwide @junxe3 @bakuhoethotski @wintercrow @bigjuli444 @singlethreadofivy

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

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xuchiya · 3 months ago

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teasing is the new delulu || song mingi || one-shot

| genre: fluff. slice of life. enemies-to-lovers- kind of trope. office kind of trope. | mentions: literally teasing each other. you teasing him. mingi teasing you.

You had just returned from the meeting, the weight of the day pressing down on your shoulders as you glanced at the clock—5:00 PM. Just thirty more minutes and you could finally crash onto your bed, the thought of sleeping a siren’s call after the endless back-to-back discussions. With a sigh, you placed your laptop onto the table and sank into your chair, scribbling down the tasks you had been assigned.

The office was alive as always, filled with the familiar sounds of rapid keyboard clicks, quiet chatter, and the occasional teasing among soft-developers. From across the room, a burst of laughter echoed as someone cracked a joke, while outside the glass walls, people were already packing up, ready to return home.

Just as you were about to start your task—at least for a few minutes—your product manager called your name. You looked up to see her sliding her laptop aside, motioning for you to pull up a chair.

“I have a few things to show you,” she said, her expression a mix of amusement and expectation.

Here’s the thing—your office wasn’t like the usual corporate setting with cubicles and private desks. Instead, it had the feel of a studio apartment, open and collaborative, with long wooden tables where everyone worked side by side. It was the kind of environment that thrived on creativity rather than competition, where ideas were shared freely, and camaraderie flourished.

You grabbed a chair and settled in between her and your fellow intern. But the moment you took your seat, you realized something.

Of course, your product manager preferred you nearby whenever you worked on layout designs, which meant sharing a workspace with none other than Song Mingi.

And that meant war.

“You’re seriously using that color palette?” Mingi’s voice cut through the air, his tone a perfect mix of judgment and disbelief as he side-eyed your screen like it personally offended him. You didn’t even look up. Smirking, you clicked on another shade—just to be extra. “You’re seriously still breathing near my workspace?”

His jaw dropped in exaggerated betrayal. “Unbelievable.”

Your bickering had long since become a staple of the office. So much so that even your supervisors had started teasing you both, throwing around comments like, “Married couple energy,” and “Just confess already,” every time you two went at it. It was routine. Comfortable.

And most importantly, it was fun.

But today, you decided to flip the script.

As you placed the final layer on your tab, you leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on his desk and tilting your head just enough to breach his personal space. “Why so grumpy today, Mingi? You’re usually better at keeping up.”

You saw it instantly—the way his fingers twitched against the keyboard, the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “I’m not grumpy,” he mumbled, eyes locked on his screen like it held the secrets of the universe.

You didn’t need to look hard to see the telltale flush creeping up his neck. From this angle, he was absolutely flustered. Grinning, you seized the opportunity. With a swift flick, you tapped his ear.

“Really? ’Cause your ears are turning red.”

Mingi choked. “W-What? No, they’re not!”

Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you tapped his shoulder lightly, reveling in the way he tensed under your touch. “Aw, did I make Mingi shy? That’s cute.”

His eyes darted around the room as if searching for backup, but it was useless—everyone else was very pointedly pretending not to be invested in your little exchange.

“I’m not shy,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re just—you’re being weird.”

Feigning offense, you pressed a hand to your chest. “Me? Weird? I’m just having a conversation with my favorite co-intern.”

His head snapped toward you so fast you were sure he nearly gave himself whiplash. “F-Favorite?”

You winked, returning your attention back to your work. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Mingi let out a strangled noise before dramatically spinning his chair away, his entire body radiating flustered energy. “I’m done with this conversation.” Chuckling, you leaned back in your chair, watching as his shoulders remained stiff, his ears still noticeably red.

This was new. And honestly? You were going to milk this moment for all it was worth.

The teasing didn’t stop there.

Later that evening, the entire office spilled onto the lively streets, stepping out for a well-earned dinner after surviving endless nights of debugging and stress-fueled coffee runs. The nearby food park was alive with movement—bright lights strung between stalls cast a golden glow over sizzling grills, the air thick with the mouthwatering scent of smoky meats and fried street food. Laughter rippled through the crowd as vendors called out orders, the hum of conversation blending with the occasional clatter of utensils.

Your stomach growled as your eyes locked onto your favorite stall—the one selling those golden, crispy, cheese-filled corndogs you had been craving for weeks. Your steps quickened in anticipation, but just as you reached for your wallet, a sudden tug at your ID lace yanked you back.

You stumbled slightly, whipping around with a glare. “Are you serious?”

Before you could react, a group of kids darted past you, barely missing your legs. Mingi let out a quiet sigh of relief, though he quickly masked it with a smirk. “What?” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Just making sure you don’t run off. like those kids”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.” Reaching for your ID, you tried to snatch it back, but he was faster, holding it just beyond your reach with a smug grin.

“Mingi,” you warned, stepping closer. His smirk faltered ever so slightly. “W-Wait—”

You surged forward, stretching up to grab your ID. Your fingers brushed against his, the warmth of his skin sending a small shiver down your spine. It wasn’t until you finally reclaimed your ID that you realized just how close you were. Your faces were barely a breath apart, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the air around you.

His eyes widened, his usual confidence slipping for just a second. And there it was—that telltale shade of red creeping up his ears.

“Oh?” A teasing lilt curled into your voice as you tilted your head, your hand still resting lightly against his chest. Your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I-I’m not,” he stammered, stepping back so abruptly that he nearly tripped over his own feet.

You chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Aw, is Mingi getting flustered again?”

“N-No!” he protested, clearing his throat as he turned toward the menu like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “What do you want to eat? My treat.”

You arched a brow, crossing your arms. “Trying to change the topic, are we?”

“I just don’t want you saying I don’t treat my ‘favorite co-intern’ well,” he muttered, still steadfastly avoiding your gaze.

This was too fun.

You leaned in ever so slightly, watching with amusement as he stiffened. “Careful, Mingi,” you murmured, your voice dropping just enough to make his ears turn impossibly redder. “I might start thinking you actually like me.”

He nearly choked on air. And with that, you walked ahead, leaving him standing there—red-faced, heart racing, and utterly, helplessly flustered. As you reached your table with your food, you couldn’t help but notice Mingi stealing glances your way, his flustered expression lingering even as he tried to act normal.

His fingers drummed idly against the side of his drink, but his eyes kept flicking back to you, betraying him. You smirked, reveling in the fact that, for once, you were the one throwing him off balance.

“You’ve been staring for a while, Mingi.” You popped a fry into your mouth, tilting your head with feigned innocence. “Something on my face?”

For a moment his body twitch in a way of responding a snarky remark yet he straightened immediately, his entire demeanor shifting. Gone was the nervous boy from earlier—now, he leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers lazily against the table as he met your gaze with a newfound confidence.

“No,” he said casually, then let his lips curl into a slow smirk. “Just wondering how someone so annoying can still be kinda cute.”

You froze mid-chew.

Wait.

Hold on.

Did he just—?

Your brain stalled. Mingi’s smirk widened at your silence, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

For the first time since this game started, you were the one caught off guard. A traitorous heat crept up your neck, and your heart did an embarrassing flip before you could shut it down. You scrambled for a comeback, but all that came out was a choked, “Hah?”

Mingi chuckled, his voice rich with amusement as he studied your expression. Slowly, he took a sip of his drink, dragging out the moment, savoring his small victory. Then, with a smirk sharper than ever, he murmured, “Flustered?” He tilted his head slightly, watching you with an intensity that sent another unwelcome flutter through your chest. “That’s cute.”

Your eyes widened. He did not just—

“You—you stole my line!” you accused, jabbing a finger at him as if that would somehow erase the smug look on his face.

Mingi only chuckled, completely unfazed. “Gotta keep up, favorite co-intern.”

And just like that, the tables had turned.

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axylotls · 4 months ago

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⌕ s͟e͟a͟r͟c͟h͟i͟n͟g axyl's pg . .

zᶻ ( MAIN DRS ) ⨟ ♡

my main drs refer to the drs i'm most focused on scripting and the ones i'll mostly be posting about (this will be updated over time as i get hyperfixated on drs!!) — if you're curious about which dr i'm planning on shifting to first, that would be my 'rocky beach house' waiting room which you'll find listed below

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ marvel / mcu [ feat. idols ] ⠷

i have multiple mcu/marvel related drs, but this is one of my main ones—and the only one that i will be sharing (as of right now.) i have taken out soooo much from the original source material 'cause i'm not looking to get traumatized lol! still figuring some things out, but will update as i have them all settled in my brain & notes app ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ gyubrik vers ] ⠷

yes i have a major crush on both ricky and gyuvin... err there really isn't much to say about this dr 'cause basically the only particularly interesting thing about it is that i date shimkongz but you know what that's enough for me and that's all that matters. (watch me go back and edit this specific part of this post multiple times 'cause it changes depending on which member(s) i'm hyperfixated on lmao)

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ crush! [ own bg ] ⠷

my staple group, my family, my home, my everything. i love these boys with all my heart!! this dr came from the idea of being a nugu group that ends up dominating the industry. i also wanted this dr to be mostly unscripted as i'm normal a scripting fanatic lolz - definitely one of my faves ever!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ poly vers ] ⠷

no yujin is not included in the poly because he is my brother!!!! (scripted him into boynextdoor) anyway, one of my faves ever because i'm always debating which zb1 dr to focus on (i have 20+..) and i realize how much easier it is to pick if i'm just dating all of the members<33 i love my familybaseone

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ male soloist ⠷

three male drs in a row... i am Man. again i adore this dr because i have nothing else to say i just love it okay!!!!! in this dr i was a contestant on boys planet and ended up in 10th so ultimately not making the lineup.... but it's okay because through the show i get to meet my boyfie gunwook<33

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ gunwook vers. ] ⠷

nobody loves gunwook more than me!!! (i'm looking at you seok matthew) this dr is free from any angst at all despite me being a bit of an oblivious dummy but that's nothing.. also pre-debut i was a prodigy so my iq is like 189 'cause i'm just that cool and awesome except im an actual dumbass when it comes to love 'cause tell me why i don't know gunwook is crushing on me despite confessing to my face multiple times throughout idol planet??

zᶻ ( FAVE DRS ) ⨟ ♡

listed below are some of my favourite and most special drs, but they don't quite make the cut for being my main dr as i'm focusing on other things at the moment. they're still very dear to me and definitely in my list of priorities of places i want to shift to first, though!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ boynextdoor ⠷

one of my favourite male drs >_< there isn't much to say about this dr other than i love it very much. the angst from my relationship with jaehyun reflects my cr a lot so sometimes it's a bit bittersweet talking about this dr, but i love it so much either way and i cannot wait to live out my life here

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ girlnextdoor [ own gg ] ⠷

boynextdoor's sister group except not sister cause most of the members are dating each other... one of my many own girl group drs however it is by far my favourite not only because of our adorable concept, but also the overall vibes of the dr are superb compared to any other ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ solis [ loona brother grp ] ⠷

i got inspired by a shiftoker who introduced his loona brother group dr! i've always adored the girls (and i do have a few loona drs!!!) but a brother group is just what i needed :] i scripted the members to be the zb1 members + myself (duh), and dessa (bestie!!!!!!) & someone else that i haven't figured out 'cause i had to script out the other person i originally had 'cause we aren't friends anymore!!!!!! the lore goes CRAZY by the way...

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ enhypen [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

if you know me, you know i love enhypen!!! i currently have five different enha drs which includes my main eighth member dr, my 7th member dr where i scripted out jay cause i date someone else (that man can't exist if he's not dating me!!!), another 7th member dr but i'm a Man, my femhypen aka genderbent enhypen dr, as well as my 12th member dr where it's actually a co-ed group

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ aespa [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

aespa is one of my ult ggs that i love so much :] i have a fifth member dr where i date karina and a fourth member dr where i replace karina lol yes i'm crazy psycho and can't see my s/os date other people so i script them out altogether!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

as i've mentioned before i have MANY zb1 drs im talking 20+ and i can't even give you an exact number because i add and remove zb1 drs basically on the daily these days... the ones that are staying for sure (which are separated by who i'm dating—and not including the two that are my main drs) are: jiwoong dr, hao dr, hanbin dr, matthew dr, taerae dr, ricky dr, gyuvin dr, gunwook dr, ot8 (w/o yujin) poly dr, mattparkz dr, shimkongz dr, myung jaehyun dr, woonhak dr, and karina dr

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ stray kids [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

stray kids was my ult group for the longest time and although i don't stan them as hard as i used to, they'll always be some of my favourite people which is why i adore my two skz drs with all my heart! my main (and first ever non-own grp kpop dr) skz dr is my minho dr and my most recent one is my minsung dr :] no i don't ship them irl but yes i date both of them!!!! we exist!!! also btw i'm a guy in both of these drs ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ atlantis [ own bg ] ⠷

this was my first male dr that i made back when i thought i was cis... dark times! however its one of my faves and has a very detailed survival show (that definitely needs to be updated) that i will for sure talk about at some point in time lol i love my members in this dr so much

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ eclipse [ own gg ] ⠷

this was my first ever k-pop dr which i made before even knowing k-pop drs were actually very common in the shifting community (i learned shifting on instagram and i wasn't really a part of the community until i joined tiktok about six months after learning about it) anyway i love my eclipse girlies and one of the main reasons i made this dr was to have a co-ed kingdom/queendom show where the winners would be named the kings and queens of kpop (obviously eclipse wins!!)

zᶻ ( OTHER DRS ) ⨟ ♡

below are all my other drs!! note that i have so many drs and many of them have multiple versions (for example i have "canon" drs and some that feature idols instead of the original characters; other drs i just have multiple to experience different lives or have different s/os lol) so this technically isn't every single one of my drs, but every single universe that i will shift to. they say to dream big and i do!!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ k-pop [ & fame drs ] ⠷

day6. (g)i-dle. itzy. ive. le sserafim. loona. newjeans. p1harmony. the rose. triples. txt. xdinary heroes. 3racha. multiple own grp + soloist drs. actor/actress. author. backup dancer. bake-off reality show. band. basketball player. boysworld. chicken shop date. director. katseye. little mix. mcyt. nepo baby. one direction. rapper. reality show. sugar baby. tennis player. vlogger.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ mlb + marvel [ & hogwarts drs ] ⠷

agatha all along. black widow. general mcu. marvel w/ idols. mlb hero. mlb villain. mlb academy. mlb w/ idols. mlb x marvel. beauxbatons. canadian wizarding school. golden trio. hogwarts w/ idols. marauders. marauders w/idols. modern golden trio.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ tv show [ & movie drs ] ⠷

alice in borderland. alice in wonderland. a.n.t. farm. arcane. austin & ally. baby. the babysitters club. batfam. bella & the bulldogs. best friends whenever. big hero six. bikini bottom. boynextdoor next door. business proposal. camp half blood. criminal minds. descendants. the devil wears prada. diamond castle. enhypen next door. ever after high. everything sucks. fairy secret. fashion fairytale. the fosters. gilmore girls. good luck charlie. the good place. gravity falls. hannah montana. her private life. hometown cha cha cha. how to train your dragon. the hunger games. inside out. island princess. jessie. jumanji. k-12 (i don't support melanie!!). kc undercover. lab rats. lemonade mouth. little women. maleficent. mean girls. my demon. namib. narnia. neverland. one day at a time. outerbanks. part time idol. pitch perfect. pokémon. power rangers. princess & the popstar. princess charm school. princess diaries. princess switch. sam & cat. the school for good and evil. shake it up. shameless. shrek. sky high. spiderverse. spirited. squid game. starstruck. start up. study group. the suite life series. the summer i turned pretty. summer strike. teen beach movie. the thundermans. to all the boys i've loved before. tomorrowland. totally spies. twinkling watermelon. victorious. weak hero. wednesday. wicked. wizards of waverly place. wreck it ralph. yellowjackets. zb1 next door.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ book [ & fanfic drs ] ⠷

chanwitch. dark moon. dollhouse. folk of the air series. geronimo stilton. heartless. hideout. i hope this doesn't find you. if you could see the sun. kitten. the lunar chronicles series. paragon academy of aces. renegades series. say please. shatter me series. the tale of geoji & jinsil. this time it's real. you don't have a shot.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ miscellaneous [ other drs ] ⠷

ancient royalty. better cr. boarding school. children of the planets. christmas wonderland. college life. concert experience. cottage witch. cupid. double life. dragon rider academy. eternal childhood. eternal summer. fantasy. five nights at freddy's. futuristic academy. ghost hunter. idol school. intergalactic royalty. jeu imaginaire. medieval royalty. minecraft. modern royalty. pirate life. post apocalyptic. porn star. small town. spy academy. street racer. supernatural school. supernatural idol school. teacher. waiting room. women-only paradise.

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dragons-and-princes · 3 months ago

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Before people start sowing more Discourse over Cinderella’s Castle, let me remind you that the entire premise is rooted in Classic Fairytale Tropes. Specifically One-Dimensional Villains, Good and Evil Magical Creatures, and Shapeshifters, in this case.

Historically, yes, the origination of Trolls likely has unsavory roots -I’m not claiming it does or doesn’t because I’m no expert- and potentially they could’ve used some other magical creature, but Trolls are essentially the staple of evil (and if its not trolls, its Ogres) in fairytales along with the wicked stepmother trope.

[They also show up in other Cinderella retellings such as Ella Enchanted! So I think it’s unfair to criticize Starkid as if they wrote the script in bad faith.]

Keeping with that note, it’s also very common for the Gorgeous, but evil, Stepmother to use magic to hide her true self but shapeshift into her true form during nefarious deeds to show that she may be beautiful but she’s wicked on the inside; this is portrayed both in novels and media as a quick and straightforward to convey a message to the primary audience for fairytales (usually children lbvs) that a character is BAD. [Think Ursula using magic to steal Ariel’s voice and masquerading as a desirable human, but turning into a giant version of her Squid form during the final confrontation.]

I’ve seen arguments that the Stepmother and Sisters being Trolls using human flesh to hide amongst the villagers as humans is Transphobic, but there is no suggestion that the trolls stop being women when they reveal themselves as trolls. There’s quite a few lines between the trolls about the the stepmother being a woman such as a joke about painful labor with one of the girls, and how romance between men and women is different between humans and trolls

I know in our current day and age, nothing can exist on the internet without someone calling it problematic or picking it apart; and that’s the price we all pay for putting ourselves out on a public forum, especially as artists.

But I think it’s important to use critical thinking and media literacy with these things. It’s also important to sometimes just take a day and enjoy things as they are, flaws and all, because you know there were was no ill intent behind its creation and the musical has only been on the internet for a day.

Let it settle before you start tearing it apart, please.

#cinderella's castle #starkid #bryce charles #jeff blim #matt lang #nick lang #angela giarratana #team starkid #its a nice refresh on a classical fairytale while still staying true to fairytale tropes #it is very loyal to the genre it is written in #I also think there a much more important things to be critical of rn than people sharing their art for free on the internet to enjoy #but that’s just me ig #like lower the pitchforks for at least another day #let them bask in the glow of their internet debut before you rip them apart

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charmac · 2 months ago

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How are we ever gonna get a macdennis kiss without Megan Ganz 😭😭

I don’t want to discount Meg, because I do like her episodes and I think she has contributed to Sunny in a lot of meaningful ways, but I think it’s somewhat important to recognise that Meg was pulled into the writers room by Marder & Rosell in Season 10.

Mac and Dennis have been tweaking each other’s nipples, elaborately roleplaying as a couple, and grappling with their genuine homosexual codependency since well before she took a seat as a staff writer. Meg didn’t create Macdennis, nor was she ever the sole instigator (or guaranteed deliverer) of it; she’s simply a Macdennis scribe, handed many of the later Macdennis-heavy plots to flesh out the scripts for. (And arguably Marder & Rosell and the Chernins have coded queer Dennis much better than Meg.)

I think due to the nature of Mac being canonically in love with Dennis for the majority of all of her time on the show, and Mac being closeted/not decidedly gay (lol) for the earlier development before, it seems like Meg was this big push in development for Mac and Dennis being “more canon,” but it’s really just a timing thing based on their writers room changing hands a little.

At the end of the day, Macdennis isn’t a thing without RCG pushing it, without it being a staple on the board, a fundamental point in their character bibles. So, how are we ever going to get a Macdennis kiss without Megan Ganz, you ask?

From MADBU’s DVD commentary 15 years ago, to today, in Charlie Day we trust.

#iasip #macdennis #ask #I think it’s also funny like.#putting s16 in perspective. Meg wrote the Dennis rapes Mac plot #while Nina writes the Mac and Dennis share finances and a bed plot #and yk who’s on EMTs? Charlie and Nina #:D

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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Play with my heart (1/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. In this chapter you will see her Instagram photos without any face reveal, just treat it like some moodboard of her modern look. You can read this as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Despite his resistance, his grandfather said this series could be his big chance. Because what's the likelihood of a big production looking for a tall actor with a scar over his left eye?

The white line running from his eyebrow to his cheek was a reminder of when his nephew smashed a bottle next to him, the shards of which shot upwards as he leaned over it. He lost the sight in that eye at the time, but got a new artificial one that looked almost identical to the real one.

"The director became interested in you when I described your appearance and character to him. It's a leading role, Aemond." His grandfather continued, clearly excited. He, however, felt only discomfort at his words.

"It's a fantasy series. Dragons, gowns and knights. Romance, on top of that, between an uncle and a niece. I don't know. It's…" He started and didn't finish, running his hand over his face.

It sounded idiotic and he felt he would have made a fool of himself in front of millions of viewers who would forever remember him in the role of the cripple prince in an incestuous relationship.

"At least read the script." His grandfather didn't give up and placed a thick volume of stapled white pages in front of him.

Resigned, he spread himself comfortably on the sofa in his flat in the evening and began to read. He pressed his lips together when he saw that it all started with a flashback – the characters of the prince and his niece were still children at the time and were to be played by younger actors.

There was no cloying or exaggerated sweetness in the story or dialogues that he had expected. What surprised him was the moment when his character lost his eye and the fact that he decided not to speak to his betrothed for eight years.

He thought it was a bit of an overreaction, but perhaps in those days men approached their honour in this way.

Then he got to the scenes where their adult characters appeared and their first scene when they see each other in the courtyard. He imagined what was happening as if he was watching a film, them, throwing glances full of pain at each other, and him, unable to bear it, attacking his opponent in rage.

To his surprise, the next scene, the scene in his chamber turned into a love scene that made him hot – and then, just when he thought the rest of the plot would be a soap opera, his character suddenly became aggressive and cold again, destroying everything they had managed to accomplish.

He thought curiously that he liked how complicated and unpredictable the Prince's character was, how hard he tried to suppress the feelings he felt for this girl, how confident he was at the same time, with so many complexes and hatreds inside him.

He was intrigued.

He decided he would go for an audition and to his surprise, the next day he received a call that the director had decided he was perfect for the part.

He got the lead role in the series.

His grandfather, as his agent, contacted the production and it turned out that they wanted to rehearse scenes between him and the actresses who would play the Princess. He was to appear in the studio in a setting specially prepared for this, which would resemble the Prince's chamber.

They were to portray the scene in which his niece comes to the Prince's chamber on the evening they see each other for the first time in eight years.

There were no wigs or costumes prepared yet, so he was given something of a substitute, a simple leather tunic and boots, and a black eye patch that had been designed specifically for his character earlier and was already finished.

The lights were turned off, leaving only the lamps for illumination and the candles and fire lit all around. He looked towards the fireplace, fiddling with the knife between his fingers, recognising that this would add an air of unease to the scene.

"Action!" The director shouted, and the door opened. He looked to the side and spotted a tall, black-haired girl. Her lips curved in pain at the sight of him, as if she was suffering greatly, but he thought in the back of his mind that her facial expression was exaggerated.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him with her chin raised high.

This was not how he imagined her, but he decided to focus on his role, rolling the knife between his fingers.

"Yes." He replied coldly and dispassionately.

The girl swallowed hard.

"Have you read them?"

"Cut! They see each other for the first time in eight years. They feel anger, fear, disbelief! Give me something more than theatrical indifference and tears." The director called out, making both him and the girl in front of him swallow hard, embarrassed.

"Action!"

It seemed to him that it went on forever. Girls similar to themselves went in and out, and he repeated the same line over and over again, feeling nothing.

He was in character as much as he could, taking his role very seriously, trying to identify with it, but he couldn't bring up the feelings he was supposed to have for this girl who, after all, was supposed to be the love of his life.

He sighed heavily, adjusting the eye patch over his eye when the director said that there was another rehearsal ahead of them. He nodded his head to let him know that he was ready.

"Action!"

The door opened, but the girl who stood in it looked at him for a moment with big eyes, as if she didn't recognise him. There was something endearing in that gaze. She turned behind her, as if she was afraid of being seen, and immediately closed the door, breathing loudly.

At last, real acting.

She turned towards him, as if she was afraid of him, and he pressed his lips together, involuntarily looking at her body hidden only beneath a thin nightgown, her slightly wavy, long dark hair falling freely over her shoulders.

Her face was gentle, warm, her eyes large, her lashes and eyebrows dark, accentuating her charm.

She was silent for a moment, her lips trembling, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Did you received my letters?"She muttered softly in a hopeful voice, from which he felt goosebumps pass along his back.

"Yes." He whispered, his voice soft and low.

Yes, he thought, give me something I can work with.

She swallowed loudly and clenched her hands into fists, shifting from foot to foot. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain as if asking how he could do this to her.

"Have you read them?" She asked, and he pressed his lips together, tilting his head back and snorted under his breath, turning the blade in his hand. She jumped up, horrified when he slammed it suddenly into the armrest lying beneath his hand.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He murmured mockingly, looking at her with slightly parted lips, lifting his chin in a gesture of superiority.

He was sure the director would interrupt, but he let them continue.

The girl lowered her gaze, her body quivering as if she was about to cry, an expression of humiliation, pain and shame on her face from which he felt heat in his heart.

Her gaze suddenly changed. She swallowed hard, as if she had also swallowed his insult, and moved ahead of him, pretending to walk towards the bookshelf.

He pressed his lips together and looked at her over his shoulder, measuring her with a furious, cold stare.

"Do you often visit men like this?"

She turned to him with a look as if she wanted to kill him, her hand dropping as if she had run out of strength after what she had heard.

"Have you no shame?" She asked coolly, the way she said it, the look in her eyes made him feel a cold sweat on his back.

"Cut! That was fantastic, thank you!" Said the director, and she blinked, the expression on her face turning from cold and disgusted to a wide smile full of joy, her gaze warm and welcoming.

"– you were amazing – I had goosebumps –" She whispered as she walked past him and giggled, waving goodbye to him, disappearing out the door a moment later.

When it turned out a few days later that she had got the role, he breathed a sigh of relief. The director had told him in a phone conversation that he could feel the kind of tension on camera that he expected from their characters and that this was it.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he agreed with him.

She was good and pulled the most subtle, intriguing expressions from her face with ease.

Although he didn't usually do this and resented his grandfather for forcing him to create an official instargam account, which was almost dead anyway, he used it to find her. At first he thought Rhaenys was her name, but then the producent told him it was her stage pseudonym.

He did not know what he thought of this, finding that it was an approach to acting that he was not fond of, but he decided not to judge her hastily, being a very private and withdrawn person himself.

Finding her turned out to be child's play, and he felt like a voyeur, scrolling through all her posts on her wall one by one, wanting to get a sense of who he would be working with, or at least that's how he tried to explain this unnatural curiosity to himself.

He snorted involuntarily in amusement upon seeing her Pikachu shirt, thinking with a kind of admiration that she had a distance to herself that he lacked.

She apparently wasn't afraid of harsh judgement from the outside world, of someone saying she was childish or immature, retaining a kind of innocence he hadn't seen in any actress in a long time.

Usually, like him, they created themselves, how they wanted to be perceived, making from their characters a style under which everything else was adjusted.

He felt a strange kind of satisfaction that he couldn't explain when he didn't see her in any of the photos with any man in an embrace or position that might indicate that she had a boyfriend.

He thought this would make it easier for him to get into character and not feel remorseful – although of course it was only his job – that he was touching someone else's girlfriend.

Although he was not convinced about this project at first, he was now beginning to feel excited at the thought that this really could open the door to his career.

All the way up to the start of shooting, he had been preparing himself to actually get into the character mentally, reading the script again and again, trying to understand Prince's character, unintentionally identifying with him more and more.

With his pain, his shame, his longing, his despair, his unfounded, cold, calculating irony and aggression.

While not everyone applauded the method acting, he felt the need to understand the character he was playing, to get inside his head, to become him in some way, to properly portray his emotions.

He and his grandfather flew to the hotel a few days before shooting to acclimatise, attend rehearsals and costume fittings. He met the actor, Aegon, who would play his brother-king, and Jace, who would play the Princess's older brother, and although he was an aloof man, he quickly found common ground with them.

Looking at the size and number of sets, the scenery created especially for one or two scenes, he felt the grand scale of the whole project and thought with excitement that he would be a fool if he refused.

When the make-up artists and stylists applied the wig on his head, his leather tunic, his breeches and his eye patch they said he was made for this role. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he found in disbelief that he really did look like a different person and he liked what he saw.

He looked dark, menacing, malicious.

Just as he had imagined.

They met formally for the first time at, much to his liking, a session with a woman who he understood was a psychologist and was supposed to take care of them when it came to approaching intimate scenes and their comfort zone.

They shook hands with polite smiles in a way that was a tad too official, but there was something heartfelt and warm in her expression and her bright eyes that made him feel a pleasant sensation in his chest.

He tried not to grin as he saw her wearing a Pikachu t-shirt, the exact same one she wore in one of her photos on Instagram.

The woman invited them with a hand gesture to sit across from her on the couch as she sat on the other side, in an armchair.

"As I understand it, you have both read the script and your director's suggestions and know that there will be scenes involving you touching your naked bodies or exposing yourself in front of each other." She said calmly and they nodded their heads.

"Okay. I'll start by asking if you have any questions or concerns." She continued, but they were silent.

"I will be with you during every scene of this type, offering you advice and support. You have the right to say if you feel uncomfortable, if you are made to feel bad by a certain type of touch and you don't want to repeat the scene in the same way. The director wants you both to feel safe here." She added, and they nodded their heads.

"Do you have any barriers, things you're sure you don't want the other party to do? Touch in places that you find unacceptable?" She asked, and he remained silent, but looked at his partner out of the corner of his eye, curious.

He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to. She swallowed quietly at last, fiddling with the material of her black tracksuit shorts.

"– I – let's just say I'm not experienced in this kind of scenes – it's hard to say where my comfort limit is – what should I do if, for example, we're in the middle of filming and I feel unwell? –" She asked uncertainly, looking at her with her big, bright eyes.

The woman nodded.

"– of course, you should then stop the filming – it would be a good idea if you just agreed between you beforehand what you plan to do, where you plan to touch each other – this will help you to prepare in advance for what is going to happen, to say what causes your concerns –" She replied calmly.

The girl smiled and let out a quiet breath, as if something in her answer had reassured her.

He saw her for the second time during a party at the hotel that the series' production organized for them, so they could get to know each other better and relax before the first day of shooting.

Like him, she was dressed plain, in long mid-thigh length, fluffy sweatshirt and woollen cream, overknee socks, while he, as usual, was dressed all in black.

She approached him to greet him for a certain out of sheer courtesy, he however appreciated her professional demeanour. When she asked if she could sit with him and the people from production he involuntarily moved over on the sofa, making room next to himself, which she accepted with a smile.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye while chatting to the set crew all evening, a few drinks were enough for him to loosen his tongue a little and start talking like a normal person.

He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling the whisky already humming heavily in his head when he saw her get up from the table and go to the toilet, leaving her half-finished drink with them.

He figured he'd wait with his assessment of the situation until she returned, but to his dismay, surely enhanced by the alcohol, he acted rather dramatically, pushing the glass away from her as soon as she sat back down next to him and tried to reach for it.

"Never leave your drinks with strangers in this business. Always take them with you." He said as if he were her older brother or father.

She blinked, horrified and ashamed, clearly not even thinking that anyone among the people around her might want to hurt her, but he knew this environment better than she did.

Seeing the look on her face, he pressed his lips together.

"Believe me. I heard this kind of stories. They put pills in your drink, tell you they'll help you back to your hotel room when you start to feel worse, and the next day on set they tell you that if you say anything to anyone, you can go back where you came from."

They stared at each other for a moment in uncomfortable silence and although the people around them were laughing, she seemed to be experiencing some sort of shock.

"Do...do you know such women personally?" She mumbled, and he shook his head, playing with his glass between his fingers.

"No, thank God. But I've heard hundreds of stories like that. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just trying to warn you. For your safety." He added, feeling for some reason like an idiot who was now lecturing and moralising her.

She nodded quickly, however, her gaze filled with a warmth and understanding that made his chest hot, though he blamed the whisky he'd drunk for his condition.

"Yes, you are right, I should be more careful. I'm glad I'll be working with someone like you." She confessed with a kind of embarrassment that surprised him, playing with the material of her woollen knee-length socks.

He looked at her, spread out comfortably on the leather sofa, realising that there was so little room at the table that their knees were pressed against each other.

When she said she would go to sleep, for some reason he offered to walk her to her room. She smiled broadly at his words and they set off together for the lift, exchanging quiet, non-committal remarks on the way.

There was something about her demeanour that made him feel at ease, her gentleness, openness and the alcohol humming in his head made him more daring when it came to spoken words.

"You made a great impression on me during the auditions." He hummed and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with joy.

"You don't even know how much these words mean to me. You were wonderful, convincing and charismatic. I hope I won't disappoint you." She said.

"Mmm." He hummed and flinched as the elevator doors slid open on the floor where their rooms were located. They walked out into the hall in silence, the warm look in her eyes that she gave him over her shoulder made him feel hot.

"– see you tomorrow –" She said and he nodded.

"– sleep well –"

The first scene they were to play, although it was only in the fifth episode, was when they returned to her chamber after speaking with her stepfather following negotiations about the succession to the throne.

Their dialogue was about what they really thought regarding what had happened in the past – this scene did not contain intimate moments and was meant to help them get into their characters well.

She walked into the room, which was also a large medieval chamber immersed completely in darkness and smiled at the sight of him. He nodded his head in greeting.

She approached him, all beaming with happiness and excitement, a nightgown on her body and a thin robe thrown over her shoulders.

"You look amazing. Wonderful characterisation." She said softly with a sincere cordiality from which he felt warmth in his heart.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, not knowing what more he could answer.

"I am the one who wants to thank you. For what you said yesterday. I guess I needed to hear this." She said, giving him a warm look full of gratitude that made him feel relieved.

"Forgive me if I was too harsh." He whispered.

"You were not." She said calmly.

He nodded and grunted, swallowing heavily, being sober having problems again with putting his thoughts into words.

They looked up at the director who ordered that they were about to go to the first shot where they were lying on the bed, so they took their places next to each other on the sheets.

He felt the stress gripping his body, the tension at the thought that there were dozens of people around them looking at them and judging him.

He had been given this role with ease and now he had to prove himself.

"Action!"

He shuddered as he felt her hand on his and looked up at her – her face was frighteningly close to his, pleasantly smooth and soft, a warmth in her gaze from which he ran out of words.

"Speak to me, uncle. Don’t lock yourself in your mind." She whispered to him, as if these words were meant only for him, as if she really cared about him, missed him, loved him.

He looked at her with his heart pounding fast, thinking with horror that he had forgotten his line.

"– I will –" She whispered.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyelids, trying to turn his fear into an expression of regret and rage on his face.

"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He hissed through clenched teeth, looking at her again, pain in her gaze, as if his words had really surprised and hurt her.

"– that was never my intention –"

"– then why? –"

"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn’t let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."

He snorted, looking at her with both disbelief and frustration. He blinked, smelling her pleasant scent, and realised that, just like in the script, she must have rubbed her skin with some vanilla oil.

He looked at her lips, pink, soft and full, and for a moment he forgot again what he should say next.

What was happening to him?

"It doesn’t matter." He muttered finally. "I needed you when it happened."

He saw her furrow her brow, her lips tightened in pain.

"I needed you too." She said in a trembling voice. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He was impressed to see real emotion in her gaze – pain, grief, shame, fear. He didn't know why he lifted his hand and touched her cheek – he thought it was idiotic, but she followed it up and grasped his fingers in hers, kissing gently the inside of his palm.

He cursed in his head feeling his manhood pulsed softly in his breeches.

He put his arm around her waist and snuggled her into his chest as scripted – her hands embraced him, her face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

He seemed to feel her puffy little nipples through the fabric of his shirt before the director shouted ‘cut!’.

They pulled away from each other, looking up at him, rising on their elbows.

"– I liked it, but I would change the ending – I know it's not in the script, but the moment when he touches her cheek begs for a soft, tender, innocent kiss – can we try it that way? –" He asked, and they nodded and grunted, embarrassed.

She returned to her earlier position, trying again to bring to her face the same sadness, pain and grief he had seen seconds before.

"I needed you too." She said in pain. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He looked at her for a moment with a gaze full of regret and touched her cheek again, running his thumb over her jaw. She kissed his hand as gently as before, cuddling her face into his rough skin, closing her eyes. She sighed quietly as he drew her closer to his face, her warm breath enveloping his skin before his fingers weaved into her hair, forcing her to lean down.

They clung to each other in a slow, shy kiss with the quiet click of their saliva, her plump, fleshy lips tasted of some sweet strawberry lipstick, deliciously soft, warm and wet, their breaths shaky and excited.

It seemed to him that time stood still; her touch was tender and full of peace but also the certainty of her affection, her soft fingers gently trailing over his jaw and cheek, caressing him as if she wanted to give him a sense of security.

Something about her closeness reassured him, and his broad hand stroked her head as if she were a small child, brushing gently her lower lip with his own, a quiet, shy sigh left her mouth.

He swallowed loudly, terrified as he felt his manhood swell and throb at the sound, at her closeness, at her taste, craving more.

They finally pulled away, her forehead pressed against his temple as his knuckles ran over her warm, soft cheek, something in her gaze he couldn't name.

"Cut! I loved this!" Their director called to them and they let out a loud sigh of relief, as if they had accomplished something very significant. His partner smiled at him.

"Everything's all right?" He asked, somehow condescending towards her, afraid she wouldn't tell him she felt uncomfortable even if she did.

She blinked, surprised by his question, and leaned over him as the crew discussed with each other whether they wanted to change anything in the shot.

"Why are you asking?" She asked lightly, curious, as if she didn't understand what he meant.

There was something intimate about how close her face was, her pleasant scent filling his lungs.

"We didn't talk about this before the scene. You know." He replied, not knowing what else to call what he was thinking about. Her eyes widened as if what he said scared her.

"– oh – no, no – I feel fine – but it's very kind of you to ask –" She whispered warmly, laying her head next to his on the pillow, pressing her forehead to his temple.

"– I feel safe with you –" She said softly into his ear, her words intended only for him.

He swallowed loudly at the thought that this could be a huge mistake on her part.

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paradiseismine · 3 months ago

Text

Instant chemistry (part 2) - Finn Wolfhard x reader

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x f!actress!reader

Warnings: “getting to know each other” kind of fluff, smutty scenes, all that good stuff.

Love note from Nina: and I announce my return! Hope you enjoy this one, my loves. No fic of mine will end up unfinished - it only might take me sometime.

The movie’s premise was quite simple: Finn’s character, Louis, was supposed to be a nerdy sweet boy who’d try and take your character, Corinne, out of prostitution, as he falls in love with her after she takes his virginity. Corinne is also new to sex as something pleasurable and loving (instead of transactional and non-romantic), and as Louis always seems so concerned about her comfort and satisfaction, as well as curious about her story and personality, she also falls for him.

It was the morning after the reading, and as you arrived at the studio earlier than usual, there was Finn - standing 6’1 with a smile and a small backpack, a thick stack of paper peeking out of it. He saw you coming and approached you, greeting you gently with a peck on the cheek.

”Did you have breakfast already?” Finnie asked, smiling sweetly as his eyes squinted because of the strong lights.

”Not really, i’m starving” you chuckled, walking with him towards the exit door. “Should we get a little something before the bell rings?”

”Yeah, totally” he nodded.

It felt kind of automatic when you reached for his hand as the green light turned red and the cars stopped on the street. He intertwined his fingers with yours as you two held hands to cross the street, in order to get to the nearby cafe for breakfast. His touch was very warm and pleasant, and as silly as it might sound, you pictured what it would look like to be his girlfriend. To have those warm touches and light conversations with him as a staple in your daily life.

“Careful not to fall in love, little starlet, people are very good at playing pretend in this business” Leo’s voice echoed in your head, making you shake off those thoughts. You were there to work, to build your career, not to meet some cute Canadian boy.

You two sat on the table and got your minds busy with the menu for a second, but Finn gently reached for your hand once again. You noticed he was shaking.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, caressing his hand with your thumb, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you took your eyes off the menu.

“Yeah, it’s just” he shook his head lightly. “I really loved this script, y/n” Finn said softly, looking around. There wasn’t anyone passing on the street, and only a few people sitting on the other tables of the cafe - all of them far enough so he could have a somewhat private conversation with you. “And I could definitely use a more mature role, you know, being a former child actor and stuff… Getting people to see you as anything other than a child takes some effort.”

“I totally understand” you nodded sincerely, setting the menu aside and taking his hand between both of your own. “Are you anxious about how things are going to happen? People’s reactions?” you inquired, trying to soften your voice and make him comfortable.

“That too” he said, his eyes seeming too embarrassed to look into yours. “It’s just… It’s really hard for me to separate things, you know? And I’m well aware of how unprofessional that sounds, don’t get me wrong.” he intertwined his fingers with your left hand, still shaking a little with anxiety. “But, uh… We’re going to kiss, and-and pretend to make love to each other, all of that” his cheeks were turning red as he licked his lips nervously. “Just bear with me, can you? Tell me if you think I’m mixing things up, if I’m getting clingy or making you uncomfortable, please”

“Don’t worry, love” your dominant hand reached for his cheek. “I know intimacy is hard and you get that taken away from you very early in life when you’re… Well, the f word” you tried to lighten up the talk.

“Being famous is weird, isn’t it?” Finn chuckled, as he caught onto your little joke. “But anyways, I just wanted to tell you to have some patience with me. I know it’s just acting, and I love cinema and acting to bits, but it’s a little hard for me not to develop some unwanted feelings sometimes”

You got up and sat next to him on the cafe’s booth, hugging his sides as best as you could.

“We’re gonna make it work, Finnie” you reassured him. “To me, actually, that only shows how much you care, and how involved you are with the work. I think it’s very honest and brave that you shared your concerns with me. And I’ll do anything I can to make you more comfortable. I’m really enjoying your company and getting to know you.”

His eyes lit up, searching for yours.

You pecked his cheek, hand lingering on the side of his face for another moment. His skin was warm to the touch, cheeks still flushed.

“Do you want to take another look at the menu to try and clear your head a bit?” you broke the silence. Anxiety sometimes would subside when you put your attention somewhere else, and maybe that would work for Finn.

“I think so, yeah” he reached for the menu, holding it shakily.

“So, maybe pancakes for today?” You helped him hold the menu, taking one of his hands off of it and draping his left arm around your waist. Finn just let you do it, trying to hide a smile. “I could really use a little self indulgence.”

His arm around your waist squeezed you onto his side a little.

“That sounds great, actually” he looked at you, breathing stabilizing.

The server soon came over to the table to get your orders, you both settling for pancakes and hot chocolate - it was pretty chilly outside.

After eating, Finn didn’t let you split the check, swiftly taking it away from you once the waiter placed it on the table. You protested a little, but let him take it. He was very sweet and seemed to like spending time with you.

As you exited the restaurant together, he reached for your hand again.

“Is this ok?” He asked, squeezing your hand softly in his own.

“Sure” you smiled. “Let’s develop our chemistry in our own rules, yeah?”

He smiled back, a bit shy still.

The first scenes were simple - Louis texting Corinne and talking with her briefly in her house, just them getting to know each other - the spicier part was to happen after lunch, as most of the crew would be gone to keep the intimate scenes more private and the actors more comfortable.

You couldn’t grab lunch with him due to a production delay, but met him shortly after. Knocking on his private backstage room, you two soon began talking over how certain parts of the script could sound and look a bit more natural as well. The material wasn’t bad, but it could use some improvising to make it more exciting.

”Can I… like… touch you? I mean, for real?”he said, in a paused insecure manner. He feared he was going too far, of course. “The intimacy coordinator said as long as we’re both comfortable, we could, uh…”

”Well, I think it’d be best for the scene” you interrupted and looked into his eyes, reassuringly. “And that’s what we both want, right?”

He nodded, agreeing with you. You’d heard the rumors that Finn liked improvising and going with the flow of each scene, but had no idea he’d be so blunt about it.

His copy of the script was kind of a mess - colorful highlights over specific lines, his small handwriting taking up most of the margins. He showed you his notes and you two talked about everything that could be said or done in order to improve your scenes together.

“So… Should we go get dressed for the next scene? Do you feel ready?” he asked, eyes sparkling as they met your gaze.

”Born ready, Mr. Wolfhard” you chuckled, smiling up at him.

As Finn’s contract was signed on such a short notice (going from a cameo appearance to a vital supporting role), he’d only get about two weeks to film his scenes before having to fly back to Atlanta to finish Stranger Things 5. So, locations and scenarios were rescheduled and/or built hurriedly to accommodate his stay.

That’s exactly how you ended up in that cold set without a working heating system - It was very much 9°C outside and you were very much stripped down to your underwear. He was in boxers and a thin T-shirt, still cold as well.

The set was mostly empty, just the core crew working on those particular scenes, as they included some partial nudity (Leo had said you had to “put those tits on the game”, to which you laughed and agreed to).

“So, uh” Finn lightly touched your naked shoulders, thumbs grazing the straps of your lingerie. “Can we, you know… Keep this scene as we had talked earlier?”

He was visibly nervous you’d change your mind. I mean, he had suggested actually touching you for a more realistic orgasm… That was a lot. You lightly grinned at him, nodding, before pulling him down by his T-shirt.

”You WILL make me cum today, Finn Wolfhard” you whispered into his face, your grip still tight on his t-shirt.

You both laughed before hearing one of the set’s bells ringing. That meant that you should get ready to start shooting.

Getting into your mark, you closed your eyes and took a few deeper breaths, your mind focusing on the feelings your character should be portraying, her thought process, her personality in general. This scene was Corinne’s first orgasm granted by another person, and she’d get it from Louis touching her gently as she guided him.

As the director yelled “action”, the scene began.

You were lying in bed with Finn, there were very few lines to run, and of course - it had to start with a kiss.

He leaned in slowly, hand softly placed on your cheek. His lips touched yours very delicately, as the kiss was supposed to be loving and gentle. You had talked about the kiss previously, so his tongue slipping between your lips after a while was no surprise - but either way, you let out a faint moan into the kiss. Soon, he parted the kiss and smiled, and so did you.

“Cut” the director yelled. “That one was pretty good… I think we can move on with just that take. Keep going, kids. Why aren’t we rolling?!”

With that, the scene continued. Finn’s kiss got more intense, his hands wandering around your waist and climbing up to your breasts, groping them lustfully. His lips moved to your neck and down to your shoulder, finger hooking underneath your bra strap and pulling it down gently.

His eyes met yours in an intense gaze, and his arms soon went around your back to unhook the bra. It took him a few tries, and the director probably liked it, ‘cause no interventions were made.

With your upper body exposed, Finn’s eyes were glued on you, his amazed expression fitting the scene perfectly. He leaned forward again to capture your lips once more, but this kiss was not as long and delighted - he had something else in mind.

Finn’s lips closing around your nipple really came as a surprise - you gasped, letting out a moan and guiding the back of his head with your hand, encouraging him to continue. His eyes shot up at yours, as if asking if that was ok, but your fucked out face was enough to answer any question.

“Let the kid have some fun” you heard the assistant director chuckle from somewhere nearby. “They have great chemistry, that’s good”.

Finnie payed that comment no attention at all, and suckled on your nipple for a little longer than he probably should, but still, no interruption. His hands glided over your body, ending up underneath the bedsheets carefully draped around your hips, his hand’s heat still noticeable over your panties.

He hovered over you, so tall and handsome, his half-lidded dark eyes still gauging each micro expression of your face, as if you could possibly get uncomfortable at any point.

“Can-Can I touch you, Corinne?” Finn said, adjusting his glasses nervously. He hadn’t worn glasses for a role since Richie, he had told you. Too bad, ‘cause he looked adorable in them.

“I’d love that, Louie” you answered, mouth watering. “Just use your fingers very gently, yeah? Move ‘em like you’re tracing circles on me”

He nodded, and his hand soon slipped underneath the panty, feeling the soft folds of your drenched cunt. Finn seemed a little surprised at how wet you were, but tried to focus on the scene nonetheless.

He traced your clit carefully, eyes darting from your face to your body. Your breath quickened. You agreed to him touching you, but didn’t realize he could make you cum for real in less than a minute.

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, stifling a few moans. You tried to keep it classy, dainty, high-pitched. And he kept working on your clit, your eyes rolling and head becoming dizzier and dizzier with lust.

“F…” you stopped his name from coming out of your mouth, biting your lip again before it rolled out of your tongue. “Fuck” you moaned, eyes shutting in pleasure. Another f-word to that R rating shouldn’t be a problem.

“Louis, I-“ you said, improvising, as Corinne was only meant to moan wordlessly for the rest of that scene.

“Let go, love, I want you to feel good” Finn said, his eyes roaming around your body underneath him.

You couldn’t hold it in. The moan you let out was probably too lewd even for the film, not as high-pitched and delicate as you had anticipated - but it was real. Your back arched, your mouth cracked open, eyes watering with pleasure. The sensation was heavenly, sultry, the tingling of your limbs so tender and powerful.

The scene ended with you smiling at each other, laughing softly after he was able to pleasure you.

“And cut” the director said, his voice softer than before. “That was very good, guys, we’ll finish ahead of the schedule today, it seems” he nodded, happily. “5 minutes, everyone?”

The crew stopped filming and soon left for a small break. You were still catching your breath after the orgasm. The director didn’t seem to notice Finn had actually touched you, but the intimacy coordinator would probably ask some questions later.

“Are you ok, y/n?” Finn asked, hand still under the sheet, holding onto your hip absentmindedly.

“Sure, I feel great” you chuckled, your head still feeling a bit light. “How about you, dear?”

“I feel great, too” he pecked your lips and got up, his hand reaching for yours to help you stand up. As you were on your feet, he put his lips to your ear. “Maybe you’ll want to change from those drenched panties, though”

“Well, this is all your fault, mister” you laughed, winking at him and walking to your backstage room in your wobbly legs. You were getting money to be there. Someone was going to pay you, but you’d do that for free. Hell, you’d do anything Finn wanted, and today was just the first day… Talk about some instant chemistry.

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