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#but they don’t know if it is real or just acting because they are performing a musical
camgoloud · 2 years
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one thing that’s been on my mind a lot recently is the fact that ianthe is reusing the old third house lyctor’s rooms… like did she just choose to do that because the old rooms were shiny and full of sexy portraits, etc., or was the mithraeum just a one-set-of-living-quarters-per-house-no-guest-bedrooms-sorry situation? if the latter, literally what was john going to do if the house heirs all ascended at canaan house like he wanted them to? the main reason this has been on my mind a lot recently is that i’ve been unable to shake a series of cursed thoughts about a universe in which things go according to god’s plan and silas and mercy are forced to become the world’s most dysfunctional pair of roommates, thus in turn forcing all the other newly-ascended house heirs to live with the fallout of this godawful situation constantly spilling all over the mithraeum common areas, which—even setting ASIDE the whole ‘experiencing paralyzing guilt and grief over their dead cavaliers’ thing that they’d also be dealing with!—is possibly an even worse outcome for them than the one from the canon timeline where they all just fucking died violently lmao
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paperhatcollection · 2 months
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For aspiring young trainers, Vinyl City- music capital of the world, offers a unique and harmonious opportunity for people and Pokemon alike. While the city may lack both a League and Championship status for the region, there is no shortage of contests and concerts to dig one's teeth into. While there may not be the opportunities to battle found in other regions across the world, bonds between trainers and their Pokemon shine as brightly in this city as any other, if not more.
You know, despite the pokemon, we don’t actually see NSR’s gameplay loop changing all that much.
We don’t really believe that just because you’re giving these characters a pokemon team that the game would automatically become an rpg, or that everything would now be solved by a pokemon battle. Or anything, really. Mayday and Zuke are musicians, neither of them have any actual interest in straight battling. Sure, they’ll take the NSR artists on in a battle of the bands, but aside from the pokemon now being responsible for some of the attacks you already see in the base game (DJ’s Minior does his sun beam attack for him, Rillaboom aids Yinu’s mother in slamming into the ground, etc), but you never fight them directly. With the exception of Neon J’s team, none of these pokemon have even been trained for battling.
We’d also say most of the fun in picking out pokemon for characters like these is the hows and whys- there’s more to this sort of thing than just picking from a list. Did the trainer want this pokemon, or did they stumble upon it? What stories might the two share? What have they been through together? Eve probably had the most discarded pokemon on this list- not just in terms of being considered, but outright with bits of lore in our head as to the why and written blurbs for their place on the team. Who knows, maybe Eve has more pokemon than this, and this is only her current ‘performance’ team.
Shoutout to PoisonousSugar over on deviantart [LINK], who was responsible for the original trainer card used to make this!
Likewise, we couldn’t make something like this without mentioning this art [LINK] of Neon J with a shiny Dhelmise by Corruptimles. Not only is it some sick art, but the pokemon just fits Neon J to such a T that anytime we see someone give these artists pokemon without giving Neon J this ‘mon, it just looks wrong
Likewise, Espathra works so well for Eve, that if we were only giving all these artists one pokemon each, that would 100% be her partner. Aliendragondreaming recently made pokemon teams for all the nsr artists that inspired us to also take a crack at the idea [LINK]- and though Minior for DJ was something we had already had the idea of before this, their picks for Neon J and Eve each inspired the same Pokemon for those trainers on this list.
And finally, shoutout to the (literally being) pokemon au done by meister-draws [LINK], in which their picks for what Team Sayu would be are so good we just imagine the kids having these pokemon each. Both ideas they created for the DJ are also really good (if you asked us? DJSS as a Deoxys is really good, with the theming and ego of this man. Plus it adds something to the whole ‘you think you’re so special and above us all, but you’re not stronger/important than anyone else. Minor works really well as a pokemon he has, but not so much one he is, even if it’s stature is as short as he is)
Finally, a written description of the text in this image under the read more just in case:
MAYDAY
Fuecoco
A newcomer to Mayday’s team, inspired by tales from Zukes past and Kul Fyra’s performances. While it’s true Mayday had always wanted a fire type of her own, they are not native to the islands.
Pikachu
Enjoys rocking out during B2J’s performances, and can serve as a handy jumpstart if its trainer doesn’t feel like breaking out the equipment. Also answers to Sparky, Ratman, Hey you, and Pichu.
Trubbish
Optional Pokemon the player can find if they click around the sewers enough times. It must’ve been attracted to the piles of junk a certain someone keeps bringing home. Seems to enjoy the sounds of B2J’s concerts.
Any fan of rock is a friend in her book!
ZUKE
Krookodile
This lazy ‘croke spends most of its days dozing away. However, if it were to run into a certain someone from its trainer's past, Krookodile would become aggravated and protective of its trainer.
Luvdisc
A gift from someone Zuke used to be close with.
Is unsure how Mayday even came across a Fuecoco to begin with.
DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA
Minior
A rare, enticing find worthy of being his partner Pokemon. While the DJ can easily tell Saturn apart from the other Miniors, fans struggle picking it out from just the shells.
The Club Planetarium is filled with indigo Miniors, though their shells rarely break. It’s a guessing game amongst fans to try and find ‘Saturn’.
YINU + MOTHER
Applin
Currently Yinu’s first and only Pokemon, Applin was obtained fairly recently to remember a loved one by.
Appletun
Despite being a normally calm Pokemon, Appletun has been acting aggressively of late, and refuses to follow orders given by Yinus mother in battle. It has an undeniable soft spot for the family, however, including the Applin belonging to Yinu.
Shaymin
Technically, the Shaymin of Natura is meant to be in the protection of the district's current charter. However, as Shaymin require advanced care, it is being looked after by Yinu’s mom until she’s old enough to properly care for it.
Rillaboom
Has a remarkable knack for keeping rhythm, even amongst its fellow kind. Has been trained by Yinus mother to duet with her should the need arise.
Chesnaught
Extremely protective of the family, is tasked with keeping Yinu safe during Bunk Bed Junctions hijacking.
Tropius
Yinu’s favorite of her mother’s Pokemon, as it always allows her to eat the fruit from its neck.
Appleton will join Yinu’s team one day, alongside Shaymin.
1010
Falinks
Lacking a Brass, each Trooper is instead assigned to a 1010 unit. The two move and fight as one, constantly changing their formation as they battle. It seems both are listening to orders given from offset.
Fans have just as much fun coming up with personalities for each Trooper as they do for the 1010’s themselves.
NEON J
Klinklang
Neon J was given this Pokemon (already fully evolved) when he awoke with a new rank and body.
Aegislash
It wasn’t originally known this sword was even a Pokemon, until it was given to a newly rebuilt Neon J and sprung to life. Neon J feels as though he can relate to it, the Navy feels as though they should check the armory.
Dhelmise
Caught from the wreckage of a ship during his time in the Navy, his go-to battle partner.
Falinks
Although Neon J enters the fray with only the Brass by his side, it quickly calls its Troopers back from the 1010’s limo. It considers Neon J’s orders absolute.
Quaquaval
Although Quaxly was Neon J’s starter Pokemon, its struggle with self confidence led to it being unevolved until after the war. It now only waits for its trainer's command to take the spotlight.
Ludicolo
After failing to catch a Wingull for several hours as a child, Neon J had stumbled upon Lotad entirely by mistake. It is now hard for him to imagine his team without Ludicolo on it.
All of Neon J’s pokemon have been taught how to, and enjoy, dancing with their trainer
EVE 
Smeargle
Her starter, starting out as a young artist. Has been with her the longest, and has picked up quite a strange assortment of moves, even with Sketch’s notorious reputation. 
Espathra
Although Flittles aren’t native to Vinyl City, Eve found the Pokemon injured while searching for inspiration for her art. After aiding it, it has clung to Eve’s side ever since and fiercely defends her.
Mr. Mime
Aids Eve in her performances, is a bit of a diva in its own right.
Furfrou
Everytime this Pokemon has been seen in public, it has had a brand new hairstyle and color job applied. Rumor has it that it was a gift from someone Eve was close to before becoming a Charter.
Malamar
Despite its fearsome reputation, this Pokemon merely enjoys the lights of Vinyl City, and cares deeply for the trainer that raised it. Eve has used it’s ink for her art before.
Milotic
After acquiring Smeargle, Feebas was the first Pokemon Eve encountered and caught on her journey. Eve now considers it fate the two of them met.
Eve has been known to take spa days with her Pokemon in tow.
TATIANA
Chatot
Rarely ever seen without her trusty Chatot, the public is very aware of what is believed to be her sole Pokemon companion. Despite this fact, very little is known about it or how Tatiana acquired it.
Volcarona
It was said that Kul Fyra had a Volcarona that shone so brightly and burned so hot during performances that it rivaled the sun.
Rumor has it that even Kul Fyra lost in a battle to Tatian’s orderly strategies. 
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vixstarria · 3 months
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Seeing stars
Welp, I wrote more porn.
Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader
18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.
I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.
This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.
Approx. 2,900 words
“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 
You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 
Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 
“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 
“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 
“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 
Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  
“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 
“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 
“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  
“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 
“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 
“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 
Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 
“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 
"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 
“I hate dancing,” he said. 
“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 
“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 
“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 
“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 
“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 
Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 
“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 
“I didn’t let him.” 
He laughed. 
“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 
You had to think for a moment.  
“Are we counting Volo?” 
“Sure.” 
“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 
“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 
“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 
Astarion was silent for a few moments. 
“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  
Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he said.  
“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  
“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 
“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 
Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 
“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 
One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 
“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 
“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 
“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  
“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 
His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  
“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  
“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 
His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  
“You can try,” you taunted him. 
Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  
“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 
It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 
You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  
“Ast… what..”  
You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 
“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”
His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 
“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 
It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 
Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 
“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 
“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  
“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 
You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 
“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 
A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  
“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 
“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 
You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 
You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  
“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 
He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  
You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 
“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 
You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  
“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 
“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 
“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  
You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 
“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 
He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 
“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  
Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 
“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 
Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 
“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 
‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  
“Your what?” you gasped.  
He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  
Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  
He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  
Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 
“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 
“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  
You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  
You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 
Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 
“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 
You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 
“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  
“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 
You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 
“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 
His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  
“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 
He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  
“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 
He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 
You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  
You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  
Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 
“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  
“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 
“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 
“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 
He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  
“Is that so?” he said softly.  
You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 
“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  
Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  
Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  
You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 
“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 
Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  
“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  
“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 
“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   
“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 
“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  
He chuckled at that. 
“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  
“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 
“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  
“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  
“Five.”  
“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 
“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 
Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  
“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 
You grinned from behind his palm.  
“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  
“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  
You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  
“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 
“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  
You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  
Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  
~~~~~
Follow up bonus scene
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
Next in series - Confession
AO3
Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears
2K notes · View notes
catiuskaa · 3 months
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you asked me to stay. [Not yet].
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PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader
SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.
WC: 4.1k
CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)
REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3
A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
He's so sweet.
You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.
“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.
He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”
You could melt at the sight of him.
“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.
His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”
You blinked, your eyes wide.
As what?
He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.
Oh. So he knew what he was doing.
You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.
“One minute.”
You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.
“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”
There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.
You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.
“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …
Oh.
OH.
MY GOD.
He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.
For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.
But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.
“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.
He winked at you as you left.
W-What had just happened?
Your mind felt fuzzy.
Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?
Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.
He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.
“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”
Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”
And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.
But idols don’t do that.
Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.
Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.
The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.
“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”
The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.
“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.
Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.
He covered his face with his hands.
Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.
It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.
He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.
His whole body tensed up.
He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.
He knew who that was, because he had been right.
He had seen you before.
“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.
He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.
“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.
“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”
He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.
It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.
“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.
“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.
“Huh?” You muttered softly.
Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.
He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.
To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.
Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.
“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”
He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.
You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.
“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”
You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.
You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.
You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.
The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.
Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.
You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.
He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.
“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.
There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.
But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.
You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.
With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.
But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.
“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.
He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.
“Much.” Chan muttered.
His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.
But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.
He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.
And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.
His breath hitched. He stopped walking.
“Chan?” You smiled.
He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.
Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.
You grinned.
“Hi.”
He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.
“Hi.”
He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.
“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”
He blinked, his eyes wide.
As what?
He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.
Oh. So you knew what you were doing.
He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.
“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”
“Huh?” He inquired softly.
“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”
He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.
“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”
“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.
“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.
He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.
“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.
He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”
His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.
“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”
The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.
And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.
Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.
“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.
“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”
You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”
You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.
“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.
You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.
“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”
“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”
You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.
“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.
He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.
“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.
You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.
He tensed up under your arms.
You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.
He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.
“But you—”
“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.
“Who’s in there?”
Chan’s breath haltered.
You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.
You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.
And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.
You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.
“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.
You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.
You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.
He nodded with you.
“We should go before it gets too late.”
Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.
The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.
“Good night, Chris.”
It wasn’t going to be a good night.
Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.
Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.
Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.
He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.
may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.
He grinned.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.
[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]
When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.
There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.
His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.
Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.
He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.
But then, Minho came in to his room.
“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.
Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”
The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.
It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.
“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”
“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.
The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”
It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.
His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.
Would you know about this?
What would you do?
“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.
The same someone who knocked on his door at night.
“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.
But it hadn’t been any of the guys.
“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.
Had you ran your way there?
“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.
“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.
“Chris.” You mumbled.
He turned around to face you.
“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”
He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.
“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”
You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.
“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”
Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.
Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.
He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.
“I missed you.”
You blushed.
“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”
He kissed you again, longer this time.
His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.
He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.
His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.
Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.
He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.
“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.
The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.
He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.
“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.
He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”
His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.
“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.
“I intend to break that promise.”
Maybe you and him would be difficult.
But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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sooniebby · 4 months
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I keep thinking about a male kpop idol in a group with seven members—but one of them being heavily into you. He’s the maknae and as the youngest, he was obviously seen as the cutest. You were the leader, the eldest.
As the eldest, you debuted at the age of 21, a good enough age. The maknae was 17. A bit young, but nothing terrible. The first four years of your career, you all played it safe, making sure none of the songs were too sexual in nature. Only two of you were of age the first few years anyway.
However, you still somehow give off sex appeal naturally. So many of your fans were just itching for a sexy concept so you could show it off properly. And in four years, you would be able to. Your creative director suggested a LGBT story line for the MV you guys were shooting. You and another member, the second eldest, were set to act as the gay lovers.
But you could tell during the entire time shooting, mainly during your scenes, the maknae looked… jealous? Or even angry. But you couldn’t dwell on it too much, comeback preparations are hectic. It wasn’t until an hour before your first performance when you got to talk to Soojin, the maknae.
Soojin couldn’t really like you in the eye though. Your clothing, on par with the sensual themes of the song, was… wow to say the least. The tightest pants know to man (was that your bulge?) and a cropped shirt with a low v cut that had a backless opening. He wouldn’t even call it a shirt at this point. It’s magic that the shirt stayed up.
He only muttered something about being fine which you had to take as gospel when you guys were called to preform. The dance wasn’t all that sexual but there were a few parts where Soojin and the members touched you.
Originally, Soojin’s hand just lightly grazes your back before pulling away. But during the performance, he touched your back directly, his hand right against your skin as he slid down. You were so fucking lucky you didn’t face the audience during this part. Your eyes were wide open, feeling him intentionally go slow, before resting dangerously close to your ass.
At first, you thought he was just trying to make it feel more real for the audience. But when the second part came, you had to rest your foot on his knee while his hand gripped your thighs… when did his hand get so big? He wasn’t even supposed to move his hand upwards but he did… his finger grazed your crotch lightly, causing your dick to twitch.
These fucking pants!!
When you pulled away, you saw the faint sight of a smirk on his lips. Just what the fuck was he getting at doing that?! At least there was only two last parts where he touched you. Towards the end of the song, the boys carried you up, like you were sitting in the air. And unfortunately for you, Soojin’s hands were gripping your butt. And he made sure to grip it tightly. Even as they put you back down, his hands lingered on your ass just a second longer, making sure to squeeze it.
At the end of the song, with the sensual swayed hips move out of the way, you all began to move to your ending pose. As you sang your final part, you moved to the center part, another member resting his hand on your shoulder, he’s supposed to. But then Soojin, he’s supposed to just stand next to you… but no, he seems set on just getting you bothered. He rests his hand on the curve on your hips and just leaves it there, making it seem like it’s intentional.
Once you hear your fans screaming, you expect him to move away, but no, he fucking pulls you close and grins, waving a piece sign at the crowd. You can only force a strained smile… because your cock is fucking hard. seriously… when did he get so strong on being able to pull you so easily? As you all begin to leave the stage, Soojin’s lips press against your ears as his breathing filled your head.
“Hyung, don’t change yet. Follow me to the closet.”
And then he just pulled away, not even looking back. Because he just knew you were going to follow. And… you instantly followed him. You were quickly pulled into the closet, it was dimly lit as you couldn’t see his face clearly. All you could feel was his arms trailing your body hungrily as he pressed chaste kisses to your neck.
“Just what were they thinking putting you in this..?” His hand pulled at your shirt. “If this wasn’t half our paycheck I would rip it to shreds. You’re so sexy, Hyung. Been dreaming about you.”
You could only whimper, too focused on your pleasure to really ask what he meant by that. His hands fiddle with your pants, unbuckling them as he pulled them quickly, along with your underwear. He gripped your thighs and pulled you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.
Soojin’s breathing slowed as he pressed his lips to your neck for a second, just lightly sucking before moving to your ear.
“I’ve been waiting since I first saw you. There’s no way I can hold back, Hyung. Sorry.”
You walked out that closet with a slight limp and cum filled underwear. And as you shifted uncomfortably on the seat of the van, you checked social media to already see people making edits of the performance.
Yeah, Soojin was not subtle the entire performance. He was practically looking at you with lust the entire time—it’s scary. His touch was even more sensual through the fancams. As you winced after the van ran over a pothole, the second eldest member, Wonshik, glanced over at you with a knowing smirk.
Oh fuck… no way were you guys keeping this a secret from the others.
This is so random lololol!!! I just got bored and decided to write it cuz I wanted to get it out of my head. Didnt fully write the smut cuz.. it’s teasing.. like he did during the performance… big brained 🫶🏼
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @remdayz @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @kiiyoooo @smellwell @tomoeroi @flurrina @rhetorical-conscience
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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Bakugou Katsuki
TW: yandere, kidnapping
fem reader
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Just had another thought about bully!Bakugou and quirkless childhood friend!darling...
You fall off the grid after high school only to reveal yourself several years later, right in the thick of his career.
He’s been recruited to go on an undercover mission to uncover a major drug scheme. He and a female operative are to play newlyweds, living together in a pretty suburban picket fence house where you'll be conducting surveillance on the neighboring family.
When you walk into the brief, you don’t give any sign of having recognized him. Nor him you, even though his chest and throat tightened to the point he had to stifle a cough.
When you sit down, you’re calm and collected while letting slip a smooth, breathless scoff – giving a slight smirk, saying calmly, “You jokers chose this landmine for a covert mission?”
“You two know each other?”
Your eyes slide off to look at Bakugou, eyeing him up and down where he sits – trying his best to hide it, but your trained eyes see it clear as day – rigid, short-breathed, a little sweaty. He’s shocked, he’s nervous, he’s even a little embarrassed.
You smile. And despite the history, all you offer in answer is a curt, “We used to.”
Bakugou feels like you have him by the balls. His jaw doesn’t unlock during the entirety of the meeting, reading the list of your responsibilities while they’re explained. How the entire neighborhood might be both bugged and surveyed by the target, so you’ll have to perform as a real married couple every waking hour – including eating together, sleeping together, kissing each other, fucking each other so as not to raise any suspicion.
You don’t budge or show any tells. You’ve been trained for this, and you’ve done this type of work plenty of times before already. Bakugou had read your file, so he knew – but shit, how weren’t you uncomfortable?
The mission lasts three long months and seventeen days. And when it’s done, you fall right off the grid again as though none of it had meant a thing.
And he knows that that’s how it’s supposed to be. He knows none of it is supposed to be real, but how can it not have been? It can't have all been a performance. He rejects that. He refuses it. He knows for certain you couldn’t have been acting all that time. You couldn’t because he hadn’t.
He’s breaking so many rules, tracking you down. And your disgust of his unprofessionalism is written all over your face when you open the door to find him having been the one to ring your doorbell. Still, you save saying anything but gesture for him to come inside.
“You weren’t easy to find-”
“This is gross misconduct, Bakugou. I can have you reported.” You cut him off. He’s not heard that voice come out of you. When you were his wife, you’d only speak sweetly – lovingly and dotingly, often with your arms slung around him, your hands in the short stubble at the back of his neck, smiling up at him so prettily.
You were scowling now.
“Are you?” He asks.
You stare at him for a moment, but then you give in with a sigh – trodding off to what he guesses is the kitchen without an answer to his question. But the silence is an answer in and of itself.
You dress differently than you did. No frilly little dress. But sweatpants and a tank – no jewelry, no makeup, hair undone.
You open the fridge and hand him a beer, then you crack one open yourself. “I have something stronger if you need it.” You say then, but he waves a no. So you lean against the counter and bring your can up to your lips. “Why are you here?”
He watches you drink for a moment. When you were his wife, you didn’t like beer, you only drank white wine, and it always made you tipsy after a couple of sips. You would never even finish a glass before becoming slow and dull-eyed. Suppose he’d never actually seen you drunk at all…
He doesn’t open his beer, feeling the cold dew drip over his knuckles. “Do you miss it?” He asks.
You look him in the eyes with slanted ones of your own. “I’m not humoring that question. If you’re having issues, you should file for a shrink. The bureau offers the best, they’ll suck out all the shit from your mind, and you’ll go back to normal within a week or two.”
“I don’t wanna go back to normal.”
You look annoyed, but then your face softens. “It’s like that the first time. It’ll pass.”
He doesn’t believe you. In your file, it said that you’d done this seven times before. Sometimes much longer than the months you’d spent together.
“It was a job, now it’s over. You need to shut the door on it and move on with your life.”
You say that, but looking around your space, it seems your job doesn’t allow much of life to take place. You have a couch and a TV, but otherwise, everything is barren. No pictures on the walls, no decorations. Where a dining table should stand, you have workout equipment instead, sprawled out over the entire floor. And if he saw your fridge correctly, you only have beer and TV dinners.
“You always on the job?” He asks.
You place your finished beer upside down in the sink, letting the last drops dry off while muttering out a retort, “Aren’t you?”
He doesn’t hear it, though. Too busy looking at you, standing there against the sink – looking the way you did when you’d wash dishes after dinner. You’re not wearing a summer dress or an apron – but you stand the same way. Slightly bent over, hips pushed into the countertop, ass pushed out like a welcome. 
He sets his beer off on the counter and takes his spot behind you, sliding his bigger hands around your small waist, slotting himself against you with his crotch nudged nicely against your butt. It feels right.
You make a small sound, going a little rigid at the unsuspected attack – but weren’t brash enough to push him away. You were rational enough to accept you wouldn’t be able to if you tried. 
“You sure you don’t miss it?” He asks again in a murmur, brushing his lips up your artery – nuzzling against you – his heavy chest resting against your shoulder blades – and you could feel the equally heavy pounding of his heart.
“Listen, Bakugou… whatever you think you miss, it doesn’t exist.” You state flatly. “Dominic and Suzie aren’t real.”
Those had been your names. Dominic and Suzie, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. Your identities for three months. But now, no more.
“But they can be…” Bakugou whispered back, tugging you a little closer – then released a small breathless laugh. “We always used to say we’d get married one day, remember? When we were brats…”
A small smile creased a dimple on your cheek at the memory, but only for a small second before you remembered everything he’d put you through after. “We’re not brats anymore. And honestly-” You catch your tongue and never finish the thought. It’s so long ago it doesn’t matter.
You sigh, knowing you’re lying to yourself. 
You relax again and drop your head back to rest on his shoulder, overlapping his hands with yours. “In retrospect, we should have filed for replacement from the start.”
“Why didn’t you?”
You pause a little bit, weighing whether you want to tell him or not. “I felt I had something to prove.” You confess. “You’ve always made me feel worthless, so when I was presented with the opportunity to rub it in your face, the child in me couldn’t resist.” 
You thought it would feel like a victory, a sweet revenge, but in the end, it just made you disappointed in yourself. How could you think playing house with a person you hate would do you any justice?
“It was stupid, and I regret it. I’m better than that.” You add resolutely. “Nevertheless, mission complete. It’s behind us now.”
Bakugou didn’t agree, still holding you the same way he’d done. 
 “You should let go of me.” You sigh again. “I’m not gonna act like Suzie for you, so-”
“I don’t want you to act like Suzie.” He interjected, nuzzling against your neck with a whisper. “I want you... the real you.”
You scoff. “Fuck- Katsuki, look around you. There’s nothing here to want.”
“Let’s make something then.” He argues, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. “It was always supposed to be us two. From the start.”
“What are you talking about?” You won't deny the contact feels good. Good enough to make your voice come out in a moan.
“I’m talking about me and you, anywhere we choose.” He continues with his kisses, and you close your eyes to the feeling but still scoff at the offer. 
“You’re talking about a dream. I’m not leaving my job to chase some fantasy with you.”
There's a silence, and Bakugou’s voice comes out more serious after. “I’m not giving you a choice.”
Your brows furrow, and you open your eyes again.
He still kisses your neck, now with his hands rubbing firm circles in your sides.  
“You were very hard to find…” He mutters. “I doubt anyone would notice if you went missing…”
“Katsuki-” You protest, still calm as you try and push yourself from the counter, but it’s an aimless effort. His touches only grow stronger to keep you in place.
“The bureau would think you’d decided to go private or retire. And given your record, I don’t think they’d spend too many resources trying to find you.”
“Katsuki, let go-” It’s scary, but you’ve been in scarier situations, so you’re able to keep your cool still – despite the chills that run up your spine from his speech. “You’re talking crazy-”
“Living like this is what’s crazy.” He answers.
His apartment looks the same. Nothing personal anywhere except a vain mantle lined with diplomas and trophies he’d received for civic duties when he’d laid his life on the line. Otherwise, it was as stale as a cheap hotel room – no art, no pictures, no carpets, not even a lamp. Just the necessities. Kitchen articles and a bed.
“I need you. And by the looks of things, you need me too.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 9 months
Text
Bruised Like Violets
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: you and Peeta are reunited after he is rescued from the Capital (No hijacking)
Masterlist
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You raced down the hallway the moment you were told where Peeta was being kept. It had been 8 long, painful weeks of waiting for him to he rescued and finally, you’d gotten word that he was back safely. You pushed past guards and burst into the room he was in, heart pounding when your eyes finally landed in him.
“Peeta?” Your voice came out as barely above a whisper. Peeta had his back to you but you could see just from his neck how skinny he had gotten. He slowly turned to you with a hardened grimace on his face. Once Peeta’s eyes met yours, his entire face softened. His eyes glazed over with tears and his bloodied lip tugged into a smile.
“Hi.” He said in a small voice. You didn’t know what came over you, but you threw your arms around him and kissed him for the first time in 8 weeks. Peeta immediately melted into you and kissed you back out of instinct. When you remembered that your love was just supposed to be an act and there were no cameras around for you to be performing for, you jumped back.
“Sorry.” You said and touched your lips, which were buzzing from kissing him.
“Dont be sorry. Come here.” Peeta shook his head and pulled you back towards him by tugging on your jumpsuit. He kissed you again and you felt your eyes well up with tears as you kissed him back. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and tangled them in his unkept hair to get him as close as possible.
“I missed you so much. I thought you were dead.” You whispered against his lips as your tears fell down your face.
“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He said as he wiped them with his thumbs. That’s when you caught sight of the bruises on his wrists, as if he had been tied down repeatedly against his will. You then took in the rest of him and realize he was half his weight and covered in bruises and welts all over his body.
“Oh, Peeta. What did they do to you?” You whispered and cupped his face to see his black eye better.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. Don’t worry about it.” He lied as you continued to inspect his arms.
“Don’t worry? All I’ve been able to do since they separated us was worry about you. The only reason I agreed to be the Mockingjay was because they said they’d rescue you. You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since the arena.”
“I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” Peeta said through a cracked smile.
“You’re joking, right?” You cracked a smile back before leaning in to kiss him again. You weren’t used to kissing when there were no cameras around, but you missed him so much that you didn’t even think about it.
“I’m so glad they got you out of there. I would’ve never forgiven Haymitch if you died. Or Finnick. Or Joanna. If I lost you…” You trailed off as your eyes welled up again. Peeta shook his head and cupped your face to get you to look at him.
“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.” He told you. You broke into a smile and pulled him into a tight hug.
“You’re real. You’re in my arms again.” You gushed as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. Your moment was interrupted by one of the nurses taping your shoulder.
“We need to bathe him and dress his wounds.” She let you know.
“Can she stay?” Peeta asked without letting go of you.
“You probably won’t want to see this.” The nurse told you as she held up some gauze and sutures. You looked over at Peeta whose big brown eyes looked scared at the thought of being left alone again. You just got him back, so there was no way you were leaving again.
“It’s okay. I’ll stay.” You said to him. The nurse gave you a look and went behind Peeta to unbutton his hospital gown. When the gown dropped, your jaw went with it. Almost every inch of his emaciated body was black and blue. You could tell he had been whipped and beaten over a long period of time. You started to cry without even realizing it but quickly wiped your tears it look brave for him.
“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He assured you while the nurse started to dress his wounds.
“There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.” You whispered.
“You’re right. Hold my hand, please? So I can squeeze it.” He asked innocently. You couldn’t help but smile and took his hand to give it a big squeeze.
“Still keeping up with the lover boy act I see.” One of the nurses mentioned as the stitched something up in Peeta’s arm.
“I’ve gotten really good at it. You’d almost think it was real.” Peeta chuckled without looking at you, but it made you blush nonetheless.
“Almost.” You nodded, making Peeta look at you.
“I heard you had quite the lover girl act going yourself.” The nurse continued.
“What do you mean?” Peeta asked curiously.
“Yeah, what?” You laughed in embarrassment.
“You’re the Mockingjay. People watch you and then talk. I heard you were screaming and crying and hugging the TV every time Peeta was on. And then screaming some more at anyone who made a comment about the things Peeta was saying.”
“I was forced-“ Peeta began.
“I know. I made sure everyone knew. That wasn’t the real you that I know.” You cut him off before he could apologize. Peeta smiled fondly at you now that he knew you had been fighting for him, even when you were separated.
“It’s hard to remember the real me.” He admitted.
“I remember him. I’ll remind you.” You shrugged. Peeta smiled again, but just for a second until he was flinching from his sutures.
“It’s okay. I got you.” You squeezed his hand before kissing his knuckles. Peeta forgot about his pain momentarily and felt himself blush. You were being a lot nicer to him than anyone had been to him in a while. But even if he had been treated with nothing but kindness, any affection coming from you was enough to send a blush across his face.
“You need a haircut.” You said, pulling Peeta out of his thoughts.
“Thanks.” He chuckled and shyly ran his fingers through his hair. You felt bad for poking fun when you remembered he didn’t have any basic luxury for weeks and a haircut was probably the last thing on his mind.
“Or maybe keep it. Your curls are coming out.” You noticed and tugged on one of his blond ringlets.
“I know. I usually try to avoid that. It makes me feel like one of those white dogs they have in the Capital.”
“Hey. That sounds like someone remembers the old you.” You smiled at his remark.
“Yeah. I guess I do.” Peeta smiled in return.
“We need to bathe him now.” The nurse told you. Peeta looked around at the room full of female nurses and felt embarrassed.
“I can do it.” You said when you saw his face.
“Are you sure?” He asked you.
“I don’t mind. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” You shrugged and thought back to bathing him in the River during the first Games.
The nurses ran Peeta a bath while you helped him limp into the bathroom. Once his bath was ready, you helped him into it and got to work cleaning him off. You started with his hair, that looked like it hadn’t been washed since well before the second Games. Peeta was quiet as you poured water over his head until the water ran clear.
“You don’t have to do this.” He said quietly as you gently cleaned his skin.
“Yes I do. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”
“I would.” Peeta admitted before a comfortable silence settled between you. You’d been on the brink of death together and forced to feign a romance in front of the whole world, but this moment felt far more intimate than anything you’d done so far.
“This reminds me of the cave.” Peeta said after a minute.
“You remember the cave?”
“I remember every second. You took care of me. Just like this.”
“It’s what we do.” You shrugged and kept cleaning.
“When have I ever taken care of you?” He laughed sadly and looked up at you.
“You’ve taken care of me plenty of times. I usually take care of your body. You take care of my mind.”
“I guess we make a good team that way.” Peeta smiled shyly.
“We do. And that’s why we’re never getting separated again.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know. But I can do my best to never let you out of my sight again.”
“I’ll do the same.” Peeta promised and looked up at you again. You cupped his chin and leaned down to kiss his nose, feeling his wet eyelashes brush against you as he closed his eye s
“Good. Now let’s get you dried off and I’ll show you to the dining hall.”
After helping Peeta get dressed, you linked your arm through his and guided him towards the dining hall. All eyes were on him as you got a tray and got on like. Some people thought he was dead while others thought he was a traitor for the things Snow had forced him to say on TV. But most people saw him as a hero and gave him warm smiles as they passed.
“Everyone is looking at me.” He whispered in your ear.
“They’re probably just excited to meet you after all the stories I told about you.” You shrugged and loaded up yours and Peeta’s plate with bread and soup.
“Yeah? Like what?” He smirked and looked at you.
“Like how loud you were in the woods when I was trying to quietly make it to the Cornucopia.” You teased him. Peeta rolled his eyes at you and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep himself balanced as you walked to a table.
“Hey Peeta. Nice to see you back.” Someone you didn’t recognize smiled at Peeta and patted his shoulder as he passed.
“See? They love you here. Because they know I love you and I’m basically a celebrity around here so they have to like what I like.” You whispered to him ad you sat down together across from Annie, and Finnick.
“Did you just say you love me?” Peeta pretended to gasp. You scrunched your nose and shoved a strawberry in his mouth to shut him up. You and Peeta noticed at the same time that Annie and Finnick were fully engaged in a makeout session now that they had been reunited. You gulped while Peter blushed and you made quick eye contact with each other. You didn’t really know the nature of your relationship at this point. There were no cameras to fake it for but being without him for 8 weeks made you realize you hadn’t faked a single thing.
“Of course I love you. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” You said after a minute to ease the tension. Peeta smile and took your hand to jokingly kiss your ring finger.
“That’s right. How could I forget we’re married.” Peeta humored you and squeezed your hand. Gale cleared his throat and the two of you finally realized he had sat down. Gale was eating his soup while staring daggers at Peeta, who looked uncomfortable.
“Aren’t you gonna say hello?” You calmly asked Gale.
“Hey, Peeta.” Gale grunted.
“Hi Gale. Thanks for helping to get me out of there.” Peeta said politely.
“No problem.” Gale muttered and looked away. Peeta’s hands had been bandaged after his bath so you got some of his soup on his spoon and held it up to his lips.
“Open.” You instructed. Peeta opened his mouth to accept the soup and swallowed it while you ripped up some bread for him. You put that in his mouth as well before giving him a glass of water. Peeta happily ate his food and smile at you in appreciation.
“Seriously?” Gale laughed meanly.
“What?” You wondered.
“You two. Do you really have to feed him?”
“I don’t have to. I want to. I missed him.” You shrugged and turned away from Gale to continue feeding Peeta.
“That doesn’t mean you have to feed him. He’s not a baby.” Gale said as if Peeta wasn’t right there.
“It’s okay. I can do it.” Peeta said and took the spoon from you. His hands shook as he dipped the spoon into his soup and it got worse as he tried to bring it to his mouth. By the time the spoon reached his lips, there was nothing left on it. You shot Gale an angry look for making Peeta feel like he had something to prove before taking the spoon again.
“I’ll do it. You fed me once.” You said and gave Peeta another bite.
“But this isn’t the first time you’ve fed me. I owe you one now.” Peeta said with a smile.
“Don’t worry about me. I have no problems stuffing my face.”
“It’s true. I’ve seen it.” Gale chimed in to remind Peeta that while he had been gone, Gale had been right there with you.
“It’s not very attractive.” You told Peeta.
“I’m sure anything you do is attractive.” Peeta replied, making you smile.
“Y/n, you left your shirt in my room last night.” Gale said, making everyone at the table look at him. Peeta frowned sadly and looked at you, expecting you to admit that you and Gale had been seeing in each other in a new way in Peeta’s absence.
“Oh. Thanks. I can grab it later.” You told Gale. Gale looked at Peeta and smirked, confirming Peeta’s worst fears.
“You were in his room last night?” Peeta asked quietly and looked at you.
“Gales been on the frontlines a lot and he’s been showing me some things he learned in training. One of them was how to make a tourniquet out of a shirt. I wanted to learn because if I had made yours properly during the first Games, you would’ve have lost your leg.” You said with a guilty look in your eyes.
“Hey, that tourniquet saved my life. I would’ve lost a lot more than my leg if you hadn’t made it. Don’t blame yourself.” Peeta said as he put his hand on top of yours. Gale looked between the two of you with jealousy brewing before speaking up again.
“I think I’m gonna skip training today. I’m still tired from how late we were up last night.” Gale added. You caught on to what Gale as trying it do and turned to a very jealous looking Peeta.
“We were up late discussing the menu for Haymitchs birthday dinner. It’s coming up soon and we wanted to hunt to have something special for him.” You explained.
“That’s nice. Maybe I can bake something for him.” Peeta offered.
“We have enough food planned.” Gale said, making Peeta’s smile fall.
“We can never have enough food.” You insisted. “I’m sure Haymitch would love it.”
“Do you think they’d let me in the kitchen?” Peeta chuckled and nodded towards the kitchen.
“If I ask them to, they would. I don’t mean to brag, but I get anything I ask for around here. It’s the perks of being the face of their revolution.”
“What have you asked for so far?” Peeta wondered.
“Just you. And now I have it so I need to think of some other things to ask for. Like getting you some baking time.” You smiled sweetly at him and touched his shoulder. You wanted Peeta to have some time to bake to remind himself of who he was. Peeta put his hand over yours and smiled in appreciation.
“You know there’s no cameras around here, right?” Gale said, taking your attention away from each other.
“We know.” You laughed in annoyance.
“So what’s with the act?” Gale asked, making Peeta gulp. He looked at you curiously, also wondering if your kindness towards him was part of the act.
“There is no act. You haven’t been through what we’ve been through. We missed each other. Let us reunite in peace.” You said simply as you kept your hand on Peeta. Peeta smiled in content and rested his head on your shoulder.
“So are you guys dating now? For real?” Finnick came up for air long enough to ask. You felt Peeta tense up on your shoulder and lifted his head to look at you. He was wondering the exact same thing, but didn’t know how to voice it. Things had been different between you before you were separated and the way you were acting Joe only made Peeta further believe that your feelings had shifted into something real.
“Can everyone leave us alone? What’s with all the questions?” You laughed awkwardly and took a bite of your bread. Finnick chuckled and held up his hands in defense while Gale gave Peeta the death glare. Peeta gave Gale a simple shrug before putting his head back down on your shoulder. You heard him yawn and looked down at him.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted.” He nodded with his eyes shut.
“Me too. Let’s get some sleep.”
You said goodbye to Finnick and Annie before taking Peeta’s arm to lead him out of the dinning hall. You brought him to the hallway where the bedrooms were and led him to the room you’d been staying it.
“My roommate is Prim but she has the night shift in the medical wing tonight.” You told him. You turned around and saw Peeta by your door, looking longingly at your bed. It had probably been a long time since he had somewhere soft to rest his head and a bed had never looked so inviting.
“They said they set up a room for me-“
You cut him off by rushing into his arms and holding him tight. Peeta stumbled back a little before hugging you back and resting his cheek against your head.
“Stay.” You whispered against his chest.
“Always.” Peeta said automatically. You hugged him for a few moments longer before climbing into bed. Peeta climbed in after you and lifted his arm so thta you could lay your head over his heart. Peeta wrapped an arm around you and you held his hand to he as close as possible.
“Can you believe how Gale was acting back there? He’s so different now. I feel like I don’t know him anymore.” You said to fill the silence that had settled.
“I think he’s mad that I was with you in the Games and he wasn’t.” Peeta replied.
“I don’t understand him. Why would anyone wish what we went though for themselves?”
“I don’t think he’s thinking about it like that. I think he’s just embarrassed that some other guy was kissing you on TV for everyone to see. And then winning the Games with you. And going on a victory tour with you. Twice. I mean, the whole entire world was rooting for us to be in love. He had to watch our fake engagement, wedding and pregnancy. I can’t imagine how that felt for him.”
“Why would he care? It’s not like I was his girlfriend.” You reminded Peeta.
“But he had feelings for you. Anyone can see it. That’s why he hates me.” Peeta said with a soft chuckle. You frowned in the darkness and tilted your chin to look up at Peeta.
“He has to get over that, then.” You shrugged. “It’s not my or your problem that he had feelings for me. He doesn’t get to be mean to you just because he wants my relationship with him to be like my relationship with you.”
Peeta was quiet for a while after that. The only sound in the room was coming from the sounds of your breathing.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you looked up at him again.
“Nothing.” He chuckled.
“Tell me.” You urged and shook him a little. Peeta let out another soft chuckle and looked down at you.
“If it were me, I would hate whatever guy was on TV kissing you too.” He admitted. A smile tugged at your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbow.
“We’re not on TV now, are we?” You asked him. Peeta sat up as well so that you were at the same level.
“I don’t think so.” He smiled shyly as he shook his head. Peeta looked into your eyes with his big brown ones before letting his gaze drop to your lips.
“And yet, you’re the only boy I want to kiss.” You said quietly. Peeta jutted his head back a little in surprise before leaning towards you. His eyes slowly shut and yours did the same as you met in a soft kiss. The kiss slowly became heated and you were soon in his lap with his hands up your shirt.
“We can take it slow. I know you’ve been through a lot.” You whispered against his lips.
“I don’t need slow. I just need you.” Peeta shook his head before kissing you again.
“I want to be with you. For real this time. Not pretend.” You said between kisses.
“Real?” Peeta smiled hopefully as he looked into your eyes. You nodded your head and replied before pulling him into a kiss again.
“Real.”
2K notes · View notes
pshaven · 6 months
Note
hii I’m back 😋 jake has been bias wrecking me so bad lately. can I request makeup artist!reader practicing a new makeup look on him at home for enha’s comeback? he’s being a lil perv and ogling at her curves :,) it can lead to more if you like idc, you take the wheel!
💫 - thank you <3
anon i love you
cw! oral (m receiving), pervy jake, RAMBLY JAKE RAHHH
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“are you sure you don’t have any scheduling today?” you ask jake as you prep your makeup on the table in front of the mirror, your back facing the boy in his designated chair. you learned some new tricks from another makeup artist a week ago, but had no one to practice on other than your mannequin but you desperately wanted to try it on a real person. 
“of course i don’t, or else i wouldn’t be here right now. my manager would be getting on my ass right now if i had skipped anything,” jake chuckles, watching you fondle and organize all your products in a neat order. you sigh before turning around, your hands reaching for his face as you cup his jaw, maneuvering his head around to get a good look at the lighting in the room. 
“thanks for doing this again, jake,” you say for the nth time since he walked into the room. he smiles as he lets you move his face around, “of course. i gave you my number for a reason, so you can call or text me whenever you need something.” you bite the inside of your cheek at his words, your hands leaving a lingering touch on his jaw before you fully turn around to grab some products to get to work. 
you can’t say being flirted with by jake of all idols you’ve worked with is the worst thing, because it isn’t. the only bad thing is that it’s hard to not reciprocate it, especially when he makes it so easy with the pretty boy face of his. 
but you underestimate jake, with you being blissfully unaware at the way he is shamelessly ogling your ass through your tight jean shorts that have him sucking in a breath. he’s thankful he wore loose sweats today, feeling his lower abdomen swirl with arousal especially when you cupped his face earlier. 
you quickly get to work on him, your non dominant hand cupping his jaw as you focus on his eye makeup. he’s doing his best to be subtle, he swears he is! but you make it so hard, your tits basically hovering by his face, just asking for him to suck sweetly on them. he’s extra fidgety today, much to your naiveness so you grip his jaw a bit tighter, thumb digging into the side of his cheek slightly that causes his lips to purse together. 
“stay still,” you mumble with a smile on your face, eyes still trained on his own to focus the shadow on the outer corner. he gives you a boyish grin, his hands surprising you when they touch your waist. 
“then you should tie me down,” he muses, expecting you to react like you always do— caught off guard and surprised as if he doesn’t hint anything suggestive when given the chance. 
but you open your mouth before thinking, too consumed with getting this new technique down on him. “didn’t know you were into kinky shit like that,” you snicker. now jake is caught off guard, his mouth goes slightly agape despite your hold on his jaw. you furrow your brows before shutting his mouth for him, your index finger tapping the side of his cheek. “now be a good boy ‘n shut up for me, okay?” 
what was his half hard cock in his sweats is now fully rock hard, the fingers on your waist twitching a bit from your words. you’ve always been good at ignoring his flirtatious attempts whenever you would do his makeup before performance and award shows. he would’ve gotten you alone sooner if he knew you would start acting up like this. 
you smile satisfyingly when the chatty boy in front of you finally shuts up, letting you work on his eyeliner in peace. “oh shit, sorry—“ you apologize when you drop one of your brushes from his hands and onto his lap, you immediately reaching for it without looking. your apology falls short when your hand brushes over something… particularly stiff that is way bigger than a makeup brush. 
his eyes meet yours sheepishly, your own darting back and forth between his lap and his face. but jake doesn’t apologize. why should he? you’re the one who got him like this in the first place, and he likes the saying don’t start what you can’t finish. 
like what you said earlier. it’s hard to say no to jake, with his stupidly handsome face, so how can you say no when he asks you to help him out? in the confines of your small makeup room, you’re in between his thighs on your knees, heavy cock in your hand while jake’s chest is heaving up and down. 
“spit on it,” he tells you, but with his hissed tone it’s more of a demand. you do what he says, straightening your back to hover over his cock and letting your drool drip down messily onto his length. “my god, you’re so hot. you have no idea—“ he gets cut off with a gasp when your mouth envelopes him, a sigh leaving your lips in doing so. 
he lost his words, his head thrown back as he throws his free arm over his mouth to muffle his moans. “y-y’know… every time you do my makeup- hahh- i get hard just thinking about you like this… down on your knees, taking my c-cock in your mouth,” he rambles, hips occasionally lifting off the chair as he gently thrusts. 
“i-i love it whenever you- um—“ he hisses when you go even deeper, letting your tongue run down the underside of his cock. “fuck! oh shhiit. l-love it when you do my l-lips… just wanna kiss you everytime- ah!” his moans get louder each time your throat contracts around him. the noises that leave his lips only encourage you more, his rambly praises leading you to reach your free hand down your thighs, rubbing your neglected clit. 
“you enjoying it that much?” he groans, catching a glimpse of your hand reaching down. “shit, if i knew you were like this i would’ve gotten you alone much sooner,” he mutters, entangling his hand in your hair and pulling you off his cock. you whine in protest, a thin string of spit connecting your lips with his cock still.
“awh-” he coos in fake sympathy, his hand that was in your hair now cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes around your lips in a weak attempt to clean up your messy spit. “don’t worry, next time you can spend all day sucking on my cock.. but now, let me see how wet that sloppy cunt is for me.” 
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ewingstan · 6 months
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Per last rb
….
So you’re Lisa. You have a theoretically long leash and some close teammates but are at constant threat of your boss snatching your leash tight to god knows what if you don’t perform well. And you square your shoulders and say fine, start rolling with the punches, act like everything’s a game and you don’t have anything to worry about. And you act that way long enough that you almost start to believe it, at least enough that you decide you can juggle saving this strange would-be hero girl from herself.
And you do! Kind of, at least. It’s going alright, she’s stopped going to that awful school and that stifling home life and is enjoying herself among real friends. Things are looking up. And then your boss brings you all into the fold, and he shows off this little girl that. Well she could have been you. If you fuck up she might as well be you. This thinker girl coil reduced to a calculator because he didn’t need her to be anything more and what if he ends up feeling the same way about you? What if you end up just another one of his pets? Well, you certainly can’t do anything about it, your team is just gonna have to go along and not give him a reason to drop you.
Except the new girl won’t take it. This person you saved is looking at this girl who could be you, and has decided she can’t let her be trapped like that. She’s devoted herself to saving Dina, to the point of burning all the ties you helped her build, all the ties YOU built for yourself. Because she saw someone whose basically in your situation and decided that the fires of hell couldn’t stop her from reaching out to help.
And she does it. She saves her. She saves you.
And then she leaves. And when she comes back, you can’t save her in return.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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“your nose is running again.”
you shoot a glare at alhaitham’s reflection in your vanity, swiping at your nose and clearing your throat a few times before croaking, “it is not.”
“tch.” he has the audacity to look unimpressed with your lie, fiddling with the collar of the nice shirt you’d practically wrestled him into for tonight. “this happens every year, i don’t know why you keep trying to deny it.”
“there’s nothing to deny, because i’m a doctor and we don’t—” you pause, face scrunching when you feel a sneeze trying to fight its way out of your system. “— get sick.” 
so what if your throat was scratchy and your entire face felt hot with sinus pressure? one could claim it was allergies, not sickness. 
taking a seat to pull on his shoes, alhaitham only scoffs disbelievingly at you. he’s acting so smug, and maybe that’s because last week you’d ignored his warning about how cold nighttime in the desert got. or maybe because you refused to take the vitamin c tablets he put beside your coffee each morning because their texture was like that of chalk. 
before he can open his mouth and say these things, the sneeze you’d been fighting takes you by surprise. you immediately turn away and lift your elbow, sneezing into it not once, not twice, but five times in quick succession.
(okay, so maybe you were feeling a little under the weather.)
you turn away from the dresser with a sharp look in your eye, just daring him to let slip the i told you so that always seemed to be sitting on the tip of his tongue.
instead, you feel his fingers tugging at the laces of your dress and his lips pressing softly against your forehead. (too warm, you swear he murmurs.)
“we don’t have to go if you aren’t feeling well. nilou will understand. do you really want to be fighting a cold while you’re surrounded by a group of your friends—”
“our friends,” you correct with a sniffle.
he ignores you. “who are going to make you—”
“make us.” 
“—endure cake and small talk?”
you roll your eyes. for someone so fearsome, your husband really could be quite dramatic, brought to his knees by something as simple as cake and small talk. 
“we missed her performance last month because we were stuck with work, so we’re not missing her birthday.” you turn around to shove lightly at his shoulder. “and don’t think you can use my cold as an excuse to get out of this party.”
alhaitham pulls back to look down at you with an irritating combination of a scoff and a smirk on his lips. “ah, so you finally admit that you have a cold? maybe if you’d taken the vitamin c for your immunity like someone suggested...”
“those supplements taste like shit, haitham,” you cough, expression pinching as you recall the disgusting tablets that you’ve called ‘not as good as the real thing.’ “the only vitamin c i like is in those mondstadt imported sunsettias...”
“you’re like a child,” he scolds. “now get undressed and back in bed before—”
“undressed?” you question, swatting his hands away from your dress. “i’m going to the party.”
“no, you’re not.”
“what if i—”
“no.”
“but darling—”
“sorry, love, but you’re not going anywhere tonight,” he decides, ignoring your quiet grumbles of protest. “i know you don’t get sick often, but when you do it hits you pretty hard.”
he leaves the room briefly at that, returning with something sitting in his palm. 
you shake your head, holding your hands out to keep him back. “no. no! that stuff is worse than the vitamin c.”
“huh, if you’d taken that, then maybe you could have avoided this.” he hums, unscrewing the lid and letting that disgustingly sweet, syrupy scent flood the room. it was so potent that even you clogged sinuses could pick it up. “perhaps, doctor, one of these years you’ll learn to take your own advice. or perhaps listen to your husband’s…”
you lean backwards when he reaches for your chin. “haitham, if you make me drink that i will call the general mahamatra on you.”
“go ahead, he doesn’t scare me.”
he tries again, only for you to side-step his hand. “take your damn medicine!” 
“you’re not supposed to yell at a sick person!” 
“i’m not yelling. i’m simply insisting because you are being childish.”
maybe you were being childish, but that medicine was just so damn gross. “can i at least go down and say hi to everyone?” you try. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen them all.”
“fine, but only for ten minutes. and you have to take your medicine first.”
“but it always makes me sleepy,” you argue. “then you’ll be there enduring cake and small talk all by yourself.”
“it’s a birthday party, not a war. i think i’ll survive.”
you scowl at him, snatching the bottle and taking a gulp of the bitter liquid. “yeah, yeah. just wait until a drunk kaveh gets his hands on you and i’m not there to save you.”
the medicine starts taking effect almost instantly. you make it eleven minutes on your own feet before you’re clinging to alhaitham’s arm and leaning heavily into his side, nose still leaking and throat still tickling.
by then, all it takes is a single, ‘you don’t look too well’ from tighnari to convince alhaitham to drag you up into nilou’s spare room and into bed. 
too disoriented and drowsy to argue anymore, you thank him dazedly and reach out to pat his cheek before letting your eyes drift shut.
__________
you’re not too sure how long it’s been when you wakes, but when you pry your tired eyes open, there’s a tray of steaming food on your bedside table. the room is glowing and warm, the source being the flickering candle that alhaithm is reading his book under
he glances up when you shift in bed, closing his book. “feeling better?” 
“‘m not leaking anymore,” you shrugs, rubbing at the tip of your nose. “how long was i out for?”
“a little over two hours,” he answers, taking a seat at your bedside and pressing a hand to your forehead. “you’re not as warm as before. the medicine must be working.”
“yeah, well i still feel gross,” you mutter, not wanting to give that disgusting concoction too much credit.
“you look it, too.”
“the akademiya scribe,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “charming as ever.” 
he scoffs at that, scooping up the tray of food in one hand and offering you his other. “charming enough that the amurta darshan’s sage took my last name.”
“well, don’t let it get to your head,” you huff, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. his thumb strokes your wedding band as he guides you to sit on a fur rug positioned in front of the fire. “pretty hard to say no to a guy that practically begs you to marry him.” 
“it was not begging—”
“haitham, dearest, that’s exactly what it was.”
you burst into a fit of giggles when he tells you to save it, his cheeks turning pink at the memory. your laughter quickly dissolves into a series of coughs, to which alhaitham pounds you on the back a little harder than necessary. 
“alright, you had your fun,” he murmurs, picking up a bowl of soup. “you need to eat something. i made your favourite,” he dips the spoon into the bowl. “i already picked out the cabbage,” he adds when you open your mouth to complain. 
unable to deny the slight rumble of your stomach, you reach for the spoon in his hand, pouting when he pulls it away. “i can feed myself,” you protest, voice hoarse from your coughing fit.
“the last time i let you feed yourself when you were sick, you sneezed and ended up throwing a spoonful of soup in my face,” he reminds you, the grim look on his face making it seem as if you’d stabbed him with the spoon instead. “open up.”
you narrow your eyes at the spoonful of soup. “it’s red,” you state. the original colour of recipe was a warm, almost translucent gold. 
“good to know your eyes are still working.”
“haitham,” you groan. “you know i don’t handle spice as well as you.”
“it’ll help clear up your sinuses,” he reasons, though there’s something teasing twitching at the corner of his lips. 
your body is wracked by another series of sneezes, each one stronger than the last, making him laugh.
“are you sure you’re done?” he teases, handing you a tissue.
“a good husband would just say, bless you,” you pout, blowing your nose and weakly tossing the soiled tissue at him. 
defeated by a clogged nose and a smug husband, you reluctantly open your mouth and let him spoon-feed you the eye-wateringly spicy soup. it slides down your throat like fire, and it…kind of does help with your sinuses and throat. 
you’d never admit that, though. it’s a new low you’ve discovered, a doctor taking medical advice from a semiotics major. 
the universe always finds ways to keep us humble.
when the bowl is half-empty and alhaitham is convinced you’ve eaten enough, he sets the bowl aside and wraps a blanket around your shoulders before he goes. your eyes are drooping again, the result of a warm blanket enveloping you and a satisfied stomach. 
he returns with a glass of water and a cool washcloth, gently pressing it to your forehead before situating himself behind you. “need anything else?”
letting yourself relax against his chest, you shake your head. his arms are warm around you, the steady sound of his heart and the soothing light of the candle slowly lulling you to sleep once more. 
“shouldn’t you get back to the party?” you murmur sleepily. but you’re already snuggling against him, hands curling greedily into the soft material of his shirt to keep him close.
“not particularly. i’ve already greeted nilou and done my share of…small talk,” he explains quietly. his small sigh is heavy, his posture deflating slightly. it wasn’t that he disliked your shared friends or their company, it was just that his social battery ran out faster than others, and without you there to keep him afloat? two hours was more than enough for him. 
“besides, i can’t exactly relax if i know that you’re up here positively suffering.” 
“you’re teasing me, but fine, i’ll let you stay.” 
no medicine or soup could do to you what a warm blanket and your annoying, teasing husband could for you, anyway.
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house-of-lovin · 1 year
Text
legally binded - 4
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | series mast. | prev part | next part
Chapter 4: Family Bonding, Festivals and Feelings?
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)
(this is all fiction!)
Note: Things are gearing up 😮‍💨 (ik i said i was gonna take a break, but i couldn’t help myself, now ill take a break lol, happy readin!)
Word Count: 6k+
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“No one’s going to get cancelled — it’ll be fun.” Colin Jost smiles curtly on your flat screen TV.
You sit on the bed with a spoon hanging from your lips, an eye on the bright screen having just finished watching a rerun of Jenna’s SNL episode. You made sure to buy it as soon as it was available; locking yourself away in your room.
Currently, you are watching this week’s episode of SNL and Colin and Che are giving their weekly news update.
“Las Vegas is opening up a pop-up vaccine site in a strip club and don’t worry the strippers say the vaccine comes with singer and actress Y/N L/N. This time she’ll be the designated driver – I heard she’s on a tight leash.”
Your smile instantly drops.
“Speaking of Y/N,” Colin bounces off, reading off the cue cards. “Did you see her last week sitting in the audience during Jenna Ortega’s episode… hey, I wonder if they’re a real thing.”
Colin and Che share a knowing glance, “Nah.” They say in unison then move on to their next bit.
Scowling, you turn the TV off, practically throwing your bowl of cereal on the side table. 
You supposed you can’t be too mad – all too familiar with the snide jabs and harmless jokes from others in the industry. This is what you signed up for, right?
Whatever, you’re sure people are loving it.
It’s been a whole week since you left New York and you haven’t spoken to Jenna. It seems how you two acted back in the Big Apple was a success because it got your managers to back off, for now. You didn’t see a reason to contact the actress so you let the silence pass — you see when she posts on social media. 
You don’t have time to think about it because Coachella weekend is coming up soon. For the first time since Vegas, you will be working and you have been itching – wanting nothing more than to dive head-first into work mode. 
It’s what you do best.
You are invited to do a guest performance on a big producer’s set for the festival. It would be your first ever time performing at Coachella but you were privy to the culture of the festival, having gone as an audience member to support your musician friends.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Link pops his head in your door, holding a phone up.
“Please don’t do this.” Your pleas go underheard.
“I don’t know why you keep trying, the answer is the same Y/N.” Link rolled his eyes, pointing to a house.
“I think this is the one.”
You scan the two-story typical American home tucked away in the boroughs of suburbia up in the desert, otherwise known as Coachella Valley.
Or well, Jenna’s parent’s house at least. 
After Link had dropped the most terrible news; you had to be seen with Jenna in Coachella. Liv and Jake had instructed your team to drive you to stay with Jenna as you prepare for the festival – it was convenient they said.
Convenient my ass.
“Relax... Marcus will be back to pick you up, he’s gonna drop off your bags at the rental house.”
“Why can’t I just go with you then?” You ask.
“Liv said to drive you to this address. Jenna gave explicit directions to drive you here.”
You frown pulling on a loose thread on your sweater.
What could Jenna possibly want that she’d want you here? She looked pretty upset at you, the last time you talked.
You really don’t have it in you to fight with her, again, especially after the long drive from L.A. up to the desert where you thought — you’d be staying in your villa for Coachella weekend.
“Now go see the girl, please.” Link reaches over to open the door.
When you step out, the car is already driving speedily down the street not even giving you a chance to change your mind. You hear a flurry of voices from the side of the house but it sounds far away. Toy cars and trollies litter the grass yard. 
Slowly, you walked up her porch, your shoes scraped as you ascend the concrete steps. Hesitating for a brief moment, you realize: Jenna is inside. Well duh.  But the thought of her on the other side of the door has your heart dropping out of nowhere. You see flashes in your memory of her frown as you explain why you have to leave New York so soon.
Unspoken words as she says ‘well I thought–’
What did she think?
You would probably never know.
The door opens with a creak breaking you out of your thoughts.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” Aliyah leans against the doorframe, smiling.
You laughed, “Yeah, we do.”
She doesn’t say anything else and just yells over her shoulder, “Jenna, she’s here.”
Then walked off. 
“Hi…” Jenna appears, leaning on the doorframe with a hand.
She scans you for a brief moment; not having seen you since New York, a week ago. She had to make sure you’re still alive because she hasn’t heard from you since then.
You also practically ghosted her.
After feeling guilty about how she left things with you, Jenna sent you a text the next day, asking if you made it back to Los Angeles safely.
You liked her message with a thumbs up.
A thumbs up! Not responding would have been better, the actress bitterly thought.
“Hey.” You greet. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?” She answered quickly, smile sealed tight like an envelope.
“I’m… good. Yeah. Just working.” You answer honestly.
“Oh really?” Jenna asked.
“Yeah, something for Coachella actually.”
Jenna raised her brows in surprise. “Like what?”
You send a tight-lipped smile, “It’s a surprise. People don’t know I’m here yet.”
Jenna can’t fight her excitement; giddy about being in on a secret. But then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed at you and not fascinated.
“Why haven’t you texted me?” Jenna sighed, her voice dropping to a lowly whisper, in case someone was walking by.
You raised your brows, surprised by her question. “Oh… um. I’ve been busy like I said, just working, trying to keep my head down and all that.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” She asked accusingly.
You missed her tone and shrugged, reassuring her, “Yeah. Of course.”
“But, I heard you were busy this week too, filming another movie with Barry Keoghan and The Weeknd?” You changed the subject, hoping to talk about something else. She takes the bait after scanning your eyes for a second.
“Yeah, it was just a short role. But it was a lot of fun. Abel actually talked about you.”
“That’s great, I’m happy for you Jen… and yeah he’s an old friend.”
“Sung your praises pretty high, I had to make sure he was talking about the right person.”
You chuckle, “Oh okay, I see how it is.”
Your laugh caused a sudden warmness to manifest in Jenna and she couldn't help but join along. “Come on, my family has been dying to see you again.”
“Really?” You asked, stepping inside her childhood home. “So you think I made a good impression?”
She turned to look back at you, surprised that you care. “Maybe… don’t let it get to your head, though.”
You laughed as you followed her through the house. “Is that jealousy I hear Ortega? Scared you won't be the only movie star around?”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot that may have impressed your family?” You cocked your head and grinned wide.
“Yeah, yeah. Like, I said. Don’t let it get to your head. They could care less about celebrities and Hollywood. They’re pretty grounded.”
You shrugged, looking at the various family pictures hanging on the wall. “It’s fine. There’s only one Ortega I want to impress anyway.”
You’re not sure where that came from and it seemed Jenna shared the same thought because she raised her brows at you – but didn’t comment.
Jenna blocks you from walking when you reached the sliding glass door. “What?”
Jenna chewed her lip anxiously, “My family can be a lot. In numbers and in the other sense too. There’s a lot of us.”
“Oh… that’s okay.” You answered. A bit confused as to why she is telling you this. When you see her genuine concern your gaze softens. “Jenna, relax. I can handle the family… and I can charm anyone’s socks off.”
She relented, rolling her eyes at your joke. “Okay, okay.”
"Wait..."
Jenna turns around.
"Why am I here exactly? At your parents, that is. Link told me that you gave my driver instructions to bring me here."
Jenna bites her lip in contemplation. "Um—like I said my family wanted to see you again and I heard you were going to Coachella anyway so you know, two birds one stone."
You nod, accepting her answer.
Jenna opens the door for you two to step out.
Sounds of laughter rang around as you and Jenna sat in lawn chairs in her parent’s backyard.
“What are Timothee Chalamet and Zendaya like in real life?” Markus – Jenna’s brother leaned forward to ask. 
“Markus!” Jenna scolded and threw her brother a glare.
The actress blushed as she sat beside you but all she felt was the vibrations of your laughter, indulging her brother’s question. 
Jenna can’t help but wonder if you have other family members that spend time with you like this. You look so carefree and genuinely happy; comfortable around her family — after knowing you for a couple months now; she guesses it’s a no.
“They’re cool. Just like everyone else to be honest. Especially, Timothee, sweet guy but he’s a bit of a typical frat bro.” You joked, “And Zendaya, well. She’s just as amazing as everyone says she is. Great work ethic, it’s inspiring when you work with someone passionate like that – makes you want to be better and work harder.”
Jenna’s sisters are eating your story up. Secretly she knew they enjoyed the tales of celebrities and pop culture. It’s nearly impossible to live your life without seeing a public figure pop up on an ad on your phone or on the side of a bus stop on your drive home. 
Jenna is barely home enough to be able to have moments like this where she can humour her sister's questions. But they all had their own lives to live. She's has been looking forward to this break for a while, knowing it was coming up after her long week in New York.
She still can’t describe New York.
Something seems to have shifted between you two by the end of the week. But she didn’t know if it was for the better. The two of you have this constant push and pull; where everything is fine one moment, then one of you says something and it turns tense and weird as you both stay silent or you just completely blow up on each other.
Jenna didn’t know if she had it in her to try to decipher what these restrained responses she gets from you could possibly mean.
You are an enigma; a defensive, hot-headed asshole that grinded every gear the actress had.
“Do you like Zendaya, buddy?” You bounced her niece in your lap, enjoying how the baby grabbed at your fingers. 
But then Jenna turns around and you act like this. Sweet, protective, charming. 
How are you the same person?
She can’t fight her smile as she watched the adorable sight.
Jenna didn’t know you were good with babies. 
“I think Z would think you’re just the most adorable thing. Oh my god, Jen, can I send her a picture of us?” You turned to her, with a bright smile.
Jenna didn’t know when you started calling her by her nickname but she certainly won’t say how she enjoys how it sounds when you say it. “Uh–sure, if it’s okay with my sister.”
“Zendaya’s gonna have a picture of my baby on her phone? Uh yes!”
Jenna laughed, nodding. “I’ll take the picture.” She took your phone, opening the camera.
“What are you doing? Get in here with us." You asked with an adorable scrunch in the nose, surprising Jenna.
“Oh, I just thought— okay.” She swallows her growing grin, sliding in beside you.
Her sisters share knowing glances.
You happily scooted in, pressing your chest to her back.
Jenna is suddenly reminded of her you and her, alone in her dressing room.
She presses back into you. 
“Say, cheese guys!” Jenna clears her throat.
With big bright smiles, you placed your head above her shoulder to get in the frame, repeating, “Cheese!”
Even her niece seemed to be enjoying the attention as she smiled brightly and toothless while standing on your lap with her chubby legs. Jenna snapped a couple for good measure, checking over the pictures. The three of you are squished together as she held it in portrait; you all looked cute Jenna can admit. 
Like a little family.
What?
“Oh Jenna, send me that, please. I want to post it on my Instagram.” Her mom spoke up already reaching for her phone. 
“Okay, okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes but sent herself the pictures first before airdropping them to – everyone – who begged for it. 
“This is adorable, I think I’m gonna make this my lock screen.” You grinned, staring at the photo. She sees you typing a message, indeed sending it to the actress like you said you would. “Just for your niece.”
Jenna felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you saying you’re gonna crop me out the photo?”
“No… but now that’s a good idea, thanks.” You mocked with a smile.
“Mom, how did you already post that picture so fast?” Mia asked.
“Don’t be mad.” Jenna begged.
“Mad? Jenna. This isn’t what I signed up for.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.
The two of you were standing in her driveway, in a discord of course. Jenna just forced you into another situation that you wanted no part of.
“You just told Link to call off my driver and now you’re saying don’t be mad. Of course, I’m mad! Why did you say yes to your Mom, Jenna.” You sighed, dropping your hand limply.
“I didn’t know she’d insist.” She groaned walking closer, “She said that you shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself for the weekend when there is room here, next thing I know she’s forcing me to ask you in front of everybody.”
"I'm sorry." She grabs your arm. “Link said you might be mad.”
You stare at her for a couple of moments. Their hearts are in the right place, you guessed. Eventually, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “Thank you I guess… I appreciate that the sentiment.”
Jenna smiled in relief, “Yeah, of course.” Then scrunched her nose in thought.  “We actually really don’t have the room so I don’t know where she’ll put you.”
She should have known. This is so typical and cliche; sharing a bed trope? Please, can the universe be any more unoriginal? 
“Mom, are you sure?” Jenna whispered as she peaked her head out the small awning of the door – making sure you can’t hear. 
“Jen, go to sleep. We have a packed day tomorrow. Everyone’s coming over for the game.”
Tomorrow is sports night and her uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents are set to come over. It was a weekly tradition for the extended family to host a gathering to watch the game every Friday; with Jenna’s busy schedule, she hasn’t been to one in months. She’s grateful this one is hosted at her house but then inwardly sighed because she should probably warn you about that too.
“Mom…” She pleaded in a whisper.
“Goodnight and be responsible. I trust you two.”
“Mom!”
Jenna dropped her head in defeat as she listened to her Mom’s footsteps dwindle further away. 
“Hey, you should probably get in there before all the hot water runs out..”
She turns, seeing your freshly showered figure. For a moment, Jenna finds herself stuck. You’re rubbing a towel on your wet hair as grey sweats hung lowly on your hips and she was desperately trying to avert her eyes from the small patch of you skin exposed.
“I already showered.”
“Oh okay.” You shrugged walking over to grab your phone. 
“Which side do you prefer?” You asked absentmindedly,
“What?” Jenna blinks away.
“Of the bed. Which side do you prefer?” 
“Oh. The left.”
“Thank god. Every bed I’ve had to share I’ve had to fight for the right side. You’re perfect.” 
Jenna watched as you jump into your preferred side, getting comfortable under her covers.
She doesn’t know why she feels a mismatched thump fall out of rhythm with her heartbeat at seeing you in her bed. 
“Alright, are you gonna be weird about sharing a bed? ‘Cause I can just take the couch or call my driver to pick me up. I can get a hotel room or something.” You sighed sitting up. 
Jenna furrowed her brows, “What no. Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?”
“I’m not.” You mumbled but don’t argue further. Jenna gets in beside you. 
“You satisfied now?” She throws out but it sounds just shy of playful and maybe even flirtatious – definitely not how she meant for it to sound.
“Uh– sure.” You replied sliding the blanket up to your chin as you tried to get comfortable again.
There’s that weird tension again, Jenna thinks and she thinks it’s starting to annoy her.
“Okay, what’s your deal?” Jenna crossed her arms, turning to you.
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“Why are you being so weird?”
“I’m not.” You sat up to face the other actress.
Jenna frowned, “Yes you are. You have been since New York. Did I do something? Because you still haven’t told me why you just left town like that.”
“I told you. Jake wanted me back for Coachella. Why else would I have just left all of a sudden?” You explained.
“I just– I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” She admits, a bit insecure. “I, at least, thought we’re friends now and when I didn’t see you in the crowd or the dressing room after SNL I was a bit… disappointed? I don't know if it’s dumb but you really did calm me down before my monologue and I wanted to thank you over dinner. But, yeah–” 
Jenna looks away, missing your guilty frown. “Jenna… it’s not dumb. God, I feel like an asshole.”
“Well, sometimes you can be.”
You laugh but it’s dry. “I’m so sorry. I–I should have been there.”
You grab her hands. “Look at me, please.” It gets her to look up, the light from the lamp is bouncing off your eyes making them look softer in the dim light. “I promise, I’ll always be there for the important moments from now on. Before, during and after – we are stuck together until the foreseeable future, so.”
Jenna snorts, looking down at your hands. You begin to rub lines with your fingers on her open palm making her shiver. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She whispers.
She doesn’t know when she makes the bold move to intertwine your fingers. But for the first time since SNL, you two hold hands and this time you don’t pull away. But she doesn’t miss the questioning glint in your eyes as you look down. Jenna ignores the attention and squeezes your hand to make you look at her again.
“You mean it though?”
Your eyes soften. “I mean it.”
“Where’s Y/N?” Mia asked over the breakfast table.
“Rehearsals,” Jenna mumbled sleepily shoving spoonfuls of food in her dry mouth – still trying to wake up.
When the actress had awakened, the sun was high above the horizon and the desert heat was already inching inside her cracked window. But she woke up, alone.
Differing from how she went to sleep the previous night with you barely pressed up beside her as you laid with your backs to each other. Jenna only found herself un-tensing after hearing your breathing fall into short even exhales.
When she turned over to grab her phone this morning, you had sent a text:
Sorry for not waking you up. You sleep like a rock but I had to go to rehearsals. I’ll be back by 3 :)
She couldn’t be too annoyed at the smiley face you leave with your occasional messages.
“She’s performing?” Mia asks shocked.
Jenna nods, too tired for words.
“The crowd is gonna lose their minds.” Aliyah laughs. “With who?”
“Won’t say.” Jenna muttered bitterly, thinking back to her incessant begging; you never caved.
“Okay… can we talk about it, now then?”
“Talk about what Mia,” Jenna sighs dropping her fork on her plate.
“You and Y/N.” She says like it’s obvious.
“There is no me and Y/N, it’s all for the cameras. Remember the NDA I had to beg you guys to sign?” The actress rolls her eyes. 
“Then why were you so upset after New York?” She challenges; tired of her sister’s silence over this whole situation. There’s no way she’s just unaffected by this.
“Mia drop it.” Her mom says.
“No. I’m serious, she’s literally staying under our roof, sharing a room with Jenna. And no one is still saying anything? Am I the only one who thinks there’s something going on?”
“Yes.” Jenna says quickly.
Mia rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question, Jen.”
Jenna crosses her arms, sitting up. “Of course I was upset. She just left town without a warning, if we didn’t catch her in the lobby she was just gonna a send a text. A text! Anyone would be upset at that — but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
But her sister doesn’t buy it. She opens her mouth to refute but their Dad swoops in saving the day. “Leave your sister alone, Mia. I’m sure whatever is going on with Y/N and Jenna – they can figure it out themselves.”
Jenna groans, “Dad, not helping.”
He shrugs, sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of breakfast.
Eventually, her family scatters to their own corners of the house to get ready for the day. Her other family members would be arriving soon and the actress had to start getting ready. Crap, she forgot to warn you about game night because you left so early. Jenna decides she’ll send you a text after she gets out of the shower.
With the raucous of the day, Jenna forgets to send the text. Her cousins arrived much earlier than anticipated and she was already getting pulled out to living room to talk about her upcoming projects. She gets so lost catching up with her cousins that she doesn’t realize when you arrive.
"Jenna, your novia is here." One of her aunts shouts making her head snap up to you as the front door opens. "Oh wow, and she's brought the whole store!"
Jenna's jaw drops as you walk in, holding multiple large bouquets of different arrangements of flowers. "Y/N?"
"Hey!" You peek your head out from the large flowers. "These are for your family... but I may have overestimated how big these were and Link refused to help me."
"Oh god, these are beautiful Y/N." Jenna's mom gets up from her seat, grabbing as many flowers as she can. "You didn't have to..."
"Oh, it's nothing, really. You guys are letting me stay here, I just wanted to express a little gratitude." You duck your head, all timid now.
Jenna knows it's not nothing. Those flowers cost a fuck ton, she would know she gets gifted those whenever she has an event.
"Well, gratitude expressed. I don't even know where to put these. Mia, Aliyah help the girl, please!"
The two sisters grab all but one smaller bouquet from your hands, walking away with smug smiles.
"Jen, get up," Aliyah whispers in passing as all the women and Jenna's dad filter over to the kitchen to view the gorgeous flowers.
She still hasn't moved from the couch and briefly, she thinks she can feel her cousin's smirking at her reaction.
"You got my family flowers?" Jenna asks dumbly, walking over slowly; ignoring everyone's eyes on them.
"Uh—yeah. Sorry if it's a bit much. I wasn't sure what everyone liked so... I got them all." You scratch your head with a bouquet in hand, catching Jenna's eye.
"These are for you..." You smile, holding out a smaller albeit more personal? flower arrangement. It felt like Jenna, somehow.
“I picked it out myself.” Your smile turns shy.
Like, if she were to walk into a flower shop and see this bouquet, she would instantly grasp it and never let go.
We still talking flowers?
"Thanks..." Jenna mumbles, grabbing the flowers; your fingertips touching sends sparks down her arm.
"Um—you're back early..." Is all she manages to say.
“Yeah… they didn’t need me for a long time so I decided to come back.” You explained, glancing at the new faces in the room. “Uh– what’s all this?”
The actress sends you a sheepish smile, “Family game night, we watch the game every Friday and cook some barbeque, it’s a whole thing. I forgot to text you, I’m sorry. You can call your driver back if this is too much.”
You laugh, squeezing her shoulder. “And miss out on great food? No, thank you.”
Jenna scans your eyes for the truth, “Are you sure? I know this isn’t exactly your scene so I understand.”
“Jen.” Your hand slides down, softly grabbing her hand. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I’m so in.”
You squeeze her hand for good measure. “Guys close the door.” Someone shouts.
Jenna doesn’t let you drop your hands this time because she’s already gripping them, pulling you to sit with her cousins – introducing you.
She ignores the giddy feeling in her chest that you want to stay.
You don’t say anything even when you’re both sitting and she’s still holding your hand.
“Who are you performing with?” Jenna tugs on your arm.
You squint to see her through your sunglasses. The Californian sun was making its presence known today and there are crowds of people everywhere as you tried to find some shade. It’s just past 6 PM and people are already starting to get rowdy – before all the good sets are even on. 
Fish nets, sparkles and bedazzles are all you see in the sea of people and you just know you’re at Coachella.
“I can’t say…” You fight the smile on your face, finding her begging adorable. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“But Aliyah knows! I heard you whisper it to her.” She glares back at her sister standing a fair distance away from you two – who was talking to Mia and her boyfriend.
“I didn’t tell her anything, Jen. We were just fucking with you.” You laugh, sliding your hand in hers. 
An unspoken comfortableness has formed between you two. Light touches are a new development in this… situation Jenna had with you.
Whether it was knees touching under the dinner table, walking shoulder to shoulder on your daily walks around the neighbourhood (there wasn’t much to do as Coachella weekend approached) or leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept when you two watched TV before bed.
And now, it seems like things have escalated to a new level of comfort where you two willingly linked fingers whenever you walked anywhere. Neither of you make a peep when someone eventually reaches for the other’s hand. 
“Rude…” She pinches your side making you flinch away from her.
Jenna’s immediately tugging you back closer.
“Hey… I can’t get an injury before my performance. I’m legally binded to a contract.” You state.
Jenna snorts, “I thought you were friends with the performer? Are you really not gonna tell me who it is?”
“Nope and sure we’re friends but, I’m still contractually obligated to the festival and all that.”
“Come on Y/N!” She groaned unconsciously stepping closer to you. “I’ve been so nice to you, I haven’t called you an idiot all day!”
You laugh, “Is that supposed to win me over?”
“You tell me? Is it working?” The laugh dies in your lips when she tits her head in question.
Jenna misses the gulp you take because she was leaning closer, trying to find your eyes behind the dark-tinted glasses you had on. 
“No…” You replied with a vacant tone.
Jenna steps back when the sun blinds her eye. “You’re no fun.”
“I don’t know what to tell you… you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else.”
“Speaking of everyone else, I’m surprised we’re not surrounded by your groupies.” Jenna eyes the group of people hovering not too far away. 
You snicker, “They are not my groupies. I barely know those people but it happens at every music event. They flock over like geese. I let Link handle them.”
Jenna frowns, “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?” You look down.
“That you can’t even enjoy yourself at a festival without someone hovering over your shoulder.”
Since Jenna’s started this PR relationship with you her fame’s only increased overnight. She hates to say it but Sarah was right, being associated with you has only made her more famous and well-known. She felt like a Kardashian or Tom Holland who couldn’t even step out of their own homes without a camera being shoved in their faces. 
It’s getting so bad that Jenna has security with her everywhere she goes. She stopped driving herself to places. A headline even dropped that you two are official and serious now and that you have met her family; paparazzi tried to camp at her parent’s house until they called the police.
“Sometimes.” You answer honestly, shrugging. “But it’s part of the job.”
Jenna’s frown deepens, looking around. “This is not part of the job. At least not what I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, but we learn to deal with it, right?” You nudge her shoulder. Seemingly unbothered that made Jenna bothered for you.
“How?” Jenna couldn’t help her curiosity.
“Surround yourself with people that genuinely care about you. That still picks you even after all your fuck ups. Only got me about three of those, so I try to keep them close.” Then you let out a sad laugh, “I make it very hard for them sometimes, though.”
Jenna looks at Link as he holds a bored hand up when a girl tries to walk up to you. Then he’s shooing her away and whispering to both of your security guards.
She wants to fight the urge to say that you have a fourth person in your corner with her.
Instead, she says:
“I think you got a good one with him.” She nods to Link.
You follow her sight, “Yeah, I do... He’s usually right about most things too.”
“What do you mean?” She looks up in questioning.
Maybe Jenna’s not so bad? Flashes in your memory but you don’t tell Jenna. “Nothing.”
Jenna squints her eyes. “Fine… keep your secrets.” Tone a playfully bitter.
Eventually, you, Jenna and her sisters walk around aimlessly from set to set, taking pictures and enjoying the atmosphere. Jenna would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. Somehow you all managed to find an empty corner by the Artist section of the performances which meant you had loosened up a bit. 
Jenna decided she liked it when you’re smiling, carefree and happy.
It suits you better than your permanent scowl. 
You’ve been so stressed this last week, taking phone calls and Zoom meetings. She tried not to express her concern at seeing how you obsessively fretted over some project, consuming you some nights. 
Jenna knows obsessive. She knows anxiety. This was different.
She finds herself with more questions than answers when it comes to you.
Why are you so closed off all the time? Is this how you work all the time? Where did this recent streak of bad behaviour start? Is there more to it than what you’re saying?
Are you okay?
But Jenna can’t find the right words to ask, so she doesn’t.
Only offering her warm pressure on top of you to hopefully lull you to sleep when you both drift off in her childhood bed.
Somewhere along the evening, she finds herself close to you.
You've loosened up as the days progressed and somehow, you and Jenna have found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms as you danced.
Jenna had her back pressed firmly against your chest; her head tucked under your chin as your arms wrap around her waist from behind; hands linked as you jammed along to the music.
“The Met Gala’s coming up.” Jenna speaks up after a few moments of silence. “I’m invited.”
“Me too.” You reveal. She perks up, looking back at you.
“Yeah?” She smiles, pleased with your answer.
“Mhmm. I’m actually a co-chair this year.” You send an embarrassed smile.
She turns in your hold, jaw-dropping. “You are?”
“Yeah… why do you think I’ve been taking those calls all week? I was getting ready for the Met.”
“I thought that was for Coachella?” She snorts but can't help but ask, "Do you ever stop working?"
“Says you. Miss Scream Queen.” You tease making her roll her eyes.
“Be my date.” She says all of a sudden. “and walk the carpet with me this time.”
You raise your brows at her bluntness. This time?
You remember the last time she said those words and a tiny part of you prayed she meant it differently this time. But you can't fight your smile because you couldn't even say no if you wanted to — overwhelmed with the sudden want, to show off the girl in your arms. “I would love to be your date.”
Jenna's eyes sparkled with delight, beaming at you widely.
"Great! I'll talk to Enrique and Thom Browne about it."
"But I'm a Prada Ambassador?"
"I'll handle it." She nods with finality.
But before you can say anything, Link slides in with a whisper in your ear and a knowing smirk in Jenna’s direction.
“Hey, I have to go.” You whisper into her ear, pulling away but Jenna tightens her grip.
“Wait.” She steps forward – much closer than she means to.
“Yeah?” You asked softly and suddenly Jenna can’t hear the loud thumping of the bass anymore.
“Good luck and break a leg.” She says in a whisper.
Her hand reaches up to brush your neck still looking into your eyes. Jenna feels the same overwhelming pressure in her chest that she’s recently felt around you and gives into her sudden impulse; leaning in, parting her lips; meaning for them to connect to your cheek but instead swerve and slot in between your lips instead, in a moment’s haste.
She feels you tense for a moment before giving in, cupping her cheeks too. Kissing her back. Jenna loses it a bit, not expecting your lips to feel so soft and smooth and perfect against hers. Jenna can't help but tilt her head to the side, allowing your lips to press harder.
She feels the same electricity from your first meeting – when you shook her hand. The same electricity she tries to fight off every time she's near you. Except this time, it's by tenfold.
Jenna is so lost in you that she can’t even hear her heart beating loudly in her ears anymore — only feeling your thumb softly stroking her jaw.
The sound of coughing breaks you two apart.
“Sorry but Y/N we need to go.” Link sends a sheepish smile but he's trying to fight his grin at having a front-row seat to the show.
When Jenna pulls away she looks deeply into your eyes searching for some kind of indication of your feelings.
You smile shyly, squeezing her waist and rubbing her back. “I’ll find you after the show?”  
“Yeah…” Jenna whispers, still staring into your eyes.
“I’ll find you!” You yell over her shoulder as Link drags you away.
“Holy shit, finally!” Mia slides in beside her. 
Jenna doesn’t have the energy to shrug off the arm Aliyah throws over her shoulder as she brings her fingers up to her burning lips. “I don't know why I did that...”
“Oh my god, you’re an idiot. The both of you.” Mia rolls her eyes walking back to her boyfriend.
Jenna looks around, blinking, immediately catching the phones held in the air capturing her moment with you.
She walks off, following her sisters.
Unbeknownst to you and Jenna, a headline is about to drop:
New developments in Y/N L/N's Vegas case. Caught with cocaine! Las Vegas PD makes no official comments on possible charges or arrests. But is this the end for the bright star?
-
:)
The strip club and vaccine bit with Colin and Che is from a real line in one of their segments LOL.
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yall happy now?
-
@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern
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azirafeast · 5 months
Text
I am SO EXCITED for the 4th Annual #Azirafeast, The Feast Day of the Angel Aziraphale, an inclusive fandom event! It’s celebrated November 19th and is a made-up holiday that brings the community together, regardless of how a person participates in fandom.
On November 19th, everyone is welcome to celebrate the Feast Day of Aziraphale by drinking cocoa and wine, eating good food, reading, being stylish on their own terms, enjoying the company of friends and embracing the spirit of Aziraphale! Please share your pics on socials with #Azirafeast!
Creators are encouraged to show Aziraphale indulging in what makes him happy or why you love him (canon or fanon!) Create “Lore” for why Aziraphale has a feast day! What miracles throughout history has he performed? Creations can be dramatic, serious, sexy or silly!
All forms of creation are welcome: Draw, write, sing, act, sew, bake, cosplay or anything else! However YOU want to appreciate our favorite angel. All variations, versions and representations of Aziraphale are welcome on the feast of Aziraphale.
Anything tagged #Azirafeast or I will reblog, the same for Instagram and Twitter. I’ve had a permanent highlight on my Instagram for the last 3 years, and maintained this tumblr. Check out what others have made for previous years!
There is also an AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Azirafeast
Anything added to it I will promote on my socials for #azirafeast.
I know I don’t have the biggest following, but the idea is that on the feast of Aziraphale even fans who don’t have a large social media presence will still be seen, still have their experiences noticed, and will feel part of a community that cares.
Folk can get stressed about creating by a “due date.” I encourage folk to post early if they want, and to keep posting after Nov 19 if they miss the day or don’t finish in time. Aziraphale procrastinated on preventing the apocalypse, you’re just embracing that energy!
And remember, you don’t have to “make” anything to participate. Eating cake and lying to your boss is a great way to celebrate! Confuse some customers, watch a nature documentary, get drunk, be kind to someone (Muriel) who is new but trying their best!
Just make sure to tag your contributions with either #azirafeast so we can celebrate with you! Please feel welcome to take my words and reshare anyway that you like, and make your own posts to generate awareness! Please do share in any fandom communities you’re a part of, or feel free to try to convince people IRL this is totally a real holiday.
I do not run, own, control or anything of the sort in regards to #azirafeast. The idea came from Cliopadra and a private discord server, and the brilliant folk there picked the date and ran with it. I encourage folk to participate because I think it’s a lovely idea! It is NOT “mine.”
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ghostofwriting · 17 days
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Kildare Split Part Three: Bleach
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 3: Bleach
Note: Hi! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. Here is Chapter Three, it covers the smau basically up until Rafe blocks Topper. Still no answers on that 💋
Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio.
Word Count: 5,343
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
Chapter Three: Bleach
That didn’t go how he planned it. He hurt her inconceivable amounts and it’s not going to be easy to get her to forgive him. He needs to work for it, he knows that. Hearing her say that she meant nothing to him when she meant the world to him hurts more than he could have ever imagined. He’s so mad at himself for ever saying those same things to her. He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that too. He’s always been selfish when it comes to her though, he needs her back. He needs to figure out how to talk to her first. 
“Let me get this straight, you told her to listen to your album for what?”
“To understand what I’m feeling.”
“Rafe, the girl doesn’t need to understand what you’re feeling, she needs you to apologize to her.” His dad’s voice comes through the speaker. He was getting ready for bed when Ward called.
“The album is like an apology.” He tells his dad like it’s obvious. 
“Unless you have a song in that thing that says ‘Y/N I’m sorry,’ for 3 minutes straight, she’s not going to hear it as an apology. She’s going to take it as an excuse.”
“I’m just so ashamed, I don’t know how to approach it.” he stares at the phone screen, a picture of his dad and Wheezie stares back at him.
“I miss you, dad.”
“I miss you too, son. You’ll be home soon and we’ll go golfing, how about that?” Rafe smiles softly. 
His relationship with his dad hasn't always been this good. When he chose music over a ‘real’ career, his dad almost disowned him. Y/N had been the one to talk Ward out of it. Giving him a plan that if they didn’t make it in two years, she would drag him back by his ear and make him take over the company. They had to work their asses off but it happened, and Ward had accepted it. It had been a long road, they spent a lot of time not speaking to each other, communicating through Sarah. Ward hadn’t been to a single show before their first album was released. He remembers seeing Ward walk in next to Sarah and feeling his five-year-old self again, prepared to put on the best show for his dad to finally be proud of him. And he was, at the end of the night he hugged Rafe and told him everything he had ever wanted to hear from him. That he was proud of everything he had accomplished, that he was meant to perform, and that he loved him. 
And he owed it all to her. It always goes back to her. 
“That sounds great, Dad.”
“Have you talked to Sofia about this, you know girls, she might have some insight you don’t.”
“I don’t think Sofia’s up to giving me advice about Y/N.
“Rafe, this is only to get her back as your friend, correct? You and Sof are good?” Ward asks, concern lacing his voice.
“Yeah, of course. Sof and I are great.” Denial. Always in denial, Rafe Cameron.
“Okay well, I wish you luck with all of that. Get some rest. I’ll be out in a couple of weeks.”
“Bye Dad, love you,” Ward tells him he loves him too and hangs up. 
+++
Kiara of all people tells her to listen to his album. As if everyone else who’s telling her isn’t enough.
“Hold on, I thought I got you in the divorce?” Kie laughs at her joke. 
“You did, but I think you should listen to what he has to say.”
“Kie, he hasn’t even apologized in person, why should I?” She’s playing with the thread that’s hanging off of the comforter. 
“Because he’s always been better at explaining himself in song.” She says matter of factly.
“This is unbelievable.” Kie groans on the other side of the phone.
“Look, he’s a piece of shit and he was horrible to you. I know that, but god can he write.”
“I know he can. I work with him.” 
“Y/N.”
“Kie.” She mocks 
“Just listen.” She’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes, glad that Kie can’t see her. 
“Okay, whatever, I don't want to talk about this anymore. What happened between you and jayj?”
“Ha! Nope.” She whines, wanting to know the drama between her two friends.
Sarah walks in with Penny in her arms. They had gone for a walk, Y/N citing vocal rest to skip going out in the rain.
“Vocal rest but you’re talking on the phone?” Sarah calls her out.
“My baby!” Sarah drops the small dog on the hotel bed, Penny running into Y/N’s arms.
“Thanks, Sarah.” She pouts at her. 
“So what are we talking about?”
“Trying to get Y/N to listen to ‘Angel.’” Kie’s voice cuts through the speaker.
“Absolutely no use. She won’t.” Sarah says. She nods along agreeing with Sarah. 
It’s not that she can’t listen to the album. She doesn’t want to. Why should she care about whatever he said in the album when he can’t tell her directly? The last time they talked he didn’t say sorry, albeit she didn’t let him say sorry with her whole speech she had been internalizing for three years. Even still, if he had just opened with ‘sorry’ she might have been more inclined to listen to his stupid album. She already knew it was about her, what more could she possibly learn?
So why can’t she get the thought of listening to it out of her head? She’s alone now, her dog next to her, sleeping tucked between her pillow and her neck. Sarah went back to her room a few hours ago and Y/N’s been trying to go to sleep to no avail. 
So she plays the stupid album that she told Rafe to shove up his ass. 
By the end of the album, she’s angry again. It’s great. Of course, it is. It’s him and he’s amazingly talented. Everything he touches turns to gold and she despises him for it. The chord progressions the tempos, the synths. Everything is amazing. Even the stupid lyrics that she wishes she could hate. How dare he be so talented and make her hate him just a fraction less?
The lyrics bother her. ‘I bought a house to live in but you’re the home I’m missin'?’ His fault. ‘I watched the weeks fly by, I’m not myself when you’re not there.’ His fault. Again. ‘I’m not a sentimental guy, I need you in my life.’ Well Rafe Cameron, why do you think she’s not in your life? It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that he completely obliterated her heart and is pretending that she just walked out on him.
Fuck you, Rafe. You don’t get to pretend.
+++
She hears Topper in the lobby of the hotel. He’s most likely the first one down here, waiting for the rest of them to wake up so they can take the car to the arena. 
She stands off to the side, their manager Ash, handing out their backstage badges. She sees Topper take two from Ash out of the corner of her eye. 
He extends the badge out to her for her to take and offers her a smile. 
“Thanks.” She tells him. 
“I know this is probably a long time coming and not the best place to have this conversation but I’m sorry.” She looks at him eyes wide, she tries to hide her shock, a small frown still visible on her face.
“Thanks.” She says again, not knowing how to respond to him. 
“I know I’ve been a shitty friend. I didn’t know how to act when everything went down. I knew about Sofia and I felt like I betrayed you. You were so hurt and I didn’t deserve your friendship. I let you isolate yourself and I’m sorry. I should have done better.”
She feels her eyes welling up. She won’t let herself cry. Not where anyone could see them.
“Yeah, you have been shitty.”
“Is it too late for you to forgive me?” She shakes her head, launching herself into his arms. Strangely it feels like coming home. She is finally hugging her best friend again. The guy who used to want to fight anyone who even looked at her wrong. 
“I missed you.” she breathes into his shoulder. 
“I missed you too, I’m sorry.” She lets go of him sniffling. She sees unshed tears in his eyes too. 
“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you, but I’ll work on it.”
“I will get on my knees, beg, and cry if you need me to.” She laughs
“I’ll let you know.”
As soon as the other two arrive, their badges are given to them and they all walk towards the car. She usually opts for sitting in the front ever since everything happened between them. She thinks that this time she can sit next to Topper. 
“Hey, Ash?” She calls for her manager's attention, “Mind if you sit in the front this time?” Ash looks at her surprised but nods her head anyway. 
“Of course, go.” She motions for Y/N to step into the car, Rafe and Barry look at her questioningly from the very back. She smiles at Topper and sits directly next to him, he offers her one of his airpods and she takes it. He’s listening to something she’s never heard and she doesn’t mind at all. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like the loneliest person in the car. 
Rafe burns holes into the backs of both their heads. What the fuck is going on?
+++
“So are you going down there for your anniversary?” He hears Sarah ask. She and Y/N are getting their lunch. 
“Ya, it works out perfectly with the tour ending just in time,” Y/N responds, 
“So are you expecting a ring?” His ears perk up at the question, willing everyone around him to shut up so he can hear her answer clearly. 
“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Y/N has a teasing tone to her voice and he feels like throwing up. He gets up from the table where he’s eating with Barry and Topper. His fork clanged against the plate as he stood up and stormed off. He can’t eat with the bile already rising in his throat. What’s wrong with him?
+++
He notices as Topper and Y/N fool around during their private soundcheck. They’re playing off each other, Y/N messing with his guitar as he sings into her microphone. He notices that it’s a little awkward but it’s better than it has been in years. He gives Barry another questioning look and Barry just shrugs. He makes a note to ask Topper what happened. 
“I can’t hear myself in my left ear, I just hear Barry’s excessive screeching,” Y/N speaks into her microphone at one of the sound techs. 
“Oh, I’m sorry we can’t all be professionally trained singers, princess.” Y/N scoffs. 
“You’re in a band Barry, maybe learn how to sing.”
“Why are you being such a bitch right now?”
“Hey!” Topper yells turning towards Barry, “cut that shit out.” Barry makes a face at Topper but drops it. 
“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Rafe asks, done with waiting to ask Topper after soundcheck. 
“Just have her back, man.”
“Since when?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Since he apologized, maybe you should learn how to do that.” She purses her lips and instead of being annoyed, he can’t stop thinking about how cute she looks.
“I tried to apologize and all you did was yell at me for 10 minutes.”
“You didn’t try to apologize, Rafe! You tried to get me to listen to your album.”
“If you would have just heard me out.”
“What? I would know that you’re so apathetic it’s pathetic but you need me now? Or how about that you’re down on your hands and knees Beggin' me please, baby.”
“You listened.” He feels a sense of relief overtake him which is quickly washed away by her tone.
“Under duress.”
“What did you think?”
“I think it’s bold to sing songs about me when your girlfriend is ready to marry you.” He wants to deny that any of the songs are about her. It doesn’t work like that. Everyone knows. Instead of denying it or calling her conceited for thinking it’s about her, another question rises up and out of his mouth before he can stop it.
“Are you?”
“What?” She asks, confused. He wants to keep his mouth shut. Why does he need to know anything, why does he want to hurt his feelings so badly?
“Ready to marry him?” Oh, he’s so stupid.
“Yeah.” There is no hesitation in her answer and his heart breaks a little.
“Great.” He says shortly.
“Great.” She turns away from him and back to her microphone, talking to the tech until he gets the volume in her left ear right. He storms off the stage shoving his guitar into Topper’s chest, narrowly missing Topper’s guitar. 
+++
“What’s your problem?” They’re waiting to be called to the stage for their second soundcheck with the fans. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You have been insufferable all day, more than usual. I can usually ignore you, I’ve been doing it for a really long time but you’re all pouting and grumbling. What’s wrong with you?”
“How could you forgive Topper and not me?”
“I haven’t forgiven Topper, but he apologized for everything, it’s more than you have ever done.”
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out.
“Rafe. Stop.” She goes to walk away but he grabs her arm, stopping her. 
“What? You beg me to apologize and now you don’t want to hear it?”
“I didn’t want to beg you for it, I wanted you to apologize because it’s the right thing to do.”
“I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I’ve been so absent from our friendship. I let people get in the way of us and I self-sabotaged and pushed you away.”
“Rafe please.”
“I think that I pushed you away because I couldn’t be with you but I couldn’t be your friend.”
She holds her breath, waiting for what he says next. 
“I couldn’t be just your friend because I was in love with you.”
“And I’m stupid okay? I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world for saying the things that I said to you.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. She’s looking directly at him, her gaze not faltering.
“You were never just someone I fucked. You weren’t some girl or someone who didn’t mean anything to me. You are the girl, you mean everything to me. You always have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry that I ever said those things.”
“Why did you?”
“I was terrified. It’s an excuse I know. The way I treated you should have never happened but- I just- I was so scared to ruin our careers and take away what we had been working for since we were practically babies. The work that you put into the band and I was just being so careless with it, I could have ruined everything. I didn’t know how to deal with that and being in love with you and high all the time. I couldn’t do it.”
“You got clean right after.” 
“I knew that sabotaging us was the first step to me ruining everything else and I needed to make the sacrifice worth it so I got clean.”
“I’m a sacrifice. You sacrificed our friendship to keep the band but if you had just talked to me we could have decided together. We could have made something work.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” They hear the five-minute to curtain call announcement and Y/N sighs.
“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” He asks her, hopeful.
“I don’t know. You hurt me more than anyone ever has.” She shrugs.
“fuck, b- Y/N I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.” She nods.
“I think I do. I need time. I need to get used to the idea of letting you back into my life before I do.”
“Okay, yeah. What can I do?” He feels hopeful for the first time since he started trying to get her to talk to him. 
“Just give me space for now. I’ll let you know.” She walks past him towards Topper. That’s a good start, he thinks. 
+++
“Baby!” She yells as she gets off stage, running into Julio’s arms. His flight had been delayed so she didn’t get to see him before the show. 
His arms wrap around her waist as he lifts her off the ground, spinning her around. 
“When did you get here?” She asks him, kissing his lips before he answers. 
“Just as you started the second song.” He pulls away to answer but buries his head in her neck, kissing her. 
“Thank you for coming. I missed you so much.” She tells him, still not letting go. 
“Always.” He pecks her lips again as the rest of the band comes up behind her. 
“Hey, guys.” Julio greets them the best he can with a Y/N-sized necklace still hanging off him. 
“Hey, man!” Topper taps him on the shoulder as he passes by him. Barry mumbles a ‘hey’ and Rafe just nods, his jaw tight. 
+++
Julio had only been here for one night and already he knew everything that Rafe had told Y/N, Which is how he found himself sitting alone with the man in the green room.
“Y/N told me what you told her last night.” He really doesn’t want to have to explain to Y/N why her boyfriend is on the floor bleeding but if he throws the first punch, Rafe is only defending himself. 
“Yeah?” He looks up from his phone and at Julio.
“Look, you hurt her. A lot. To the point where she thought she had no one because of you. She cried herself to sleep every day because of how alone she felt.” Rafe’s stomach churns at his words.
“I’m going to make it up to her.” He puts his phone down next to him. 
“And you better mean it. Don’t lead her on. Be honest with her. Do not hurt her again.” 
“I won’t.” He assures him.
“Good.” He thinks the conversation is over but Julio speaks up again.
“Rafe, I know how you feel about her. You need to back off. I love her. And she loves me. I will be here until she no longer wants me. Please don’t get in the way of that.”
“I’m engaged.”
“That doesn’t change the way you look at her. Your heart isn’t in it. Respect my relationship and I will respect you.” 
“You don’t have anything to worry about. I just want my friend back.” It’s not like she would take him back anyway. Even if he wanted to.
“Okay.” Cleo and Pope walk in to save him from the awkward silence. 
“I’m going to head out.” He picks up his phone and stands up from where he was sitting on the couch.
“Nice talking to you,” Julio calls.
“Yeah, you too.” He all but runs out of the room on a mission to find Sarah.
+++
Sarah Cameron is not one to spread rumours. She’s very much the type to wait for confirmation. She blames the circumstances and constant stress she’s under juggling her brother’s stupid feelings with Y/N’s and vice versa. 
There has been way too much talk about marriage, Sofia finally arrived and all she can talk about is wedding dresses and the caterer and the first dance and Sarah is exhausted. And of course, Rafe is panicking about things he really shouldn’t be worried about like ‘Oh is Y/N getting married? Sarah, she said that she was ready.’ and Y/N herself teased that she wanted the ring and she wouldn’t say no if Julio proposed. So what is Sarah supposed to think when she hears Y/N squeal from her dressing room as she screams “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you.” Sarah is tired. 
She should have known there wasn’t an actual proposal when it happened in the dressing room of all places. She knows Julio, he’s a romantic guy, thinking back on it, there’s no way he would have proposed like that. Again, Sarah’s tired and she’s not thinking and she needs to tell someone and the first person she sees. Barry. Bad idea. 
“Julio just proposed to Y/N and she said yes.” The information spills out of her mouth, it takes Barry a moment to process what she said but once he gets it he’s laughing. 
“Shit. That’s going to kill him.” Fuck. Rafe. She hadn’t even thought of her brother’s reaction. She wants to be the one to tell him but he’s out with his trainer. She has to make sure no one tells him before she does. 
“Topper!” She runs down the hall towards him.
“What’s up, why are you like sweating?” She waves him off.
“When does Rafe get back?”
“An hour still.”
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Y/N just got engaged and I need to be the one to break the news to him.” 
“Holy shit. Good for her. Where is she?” Sarah shakes her head at him. 
“That’s not the point, I need you to find out where Rafe is training so I can find him.”
“He’s probably running laps outside or at a nearby park.”
“Do you have his location?” 
“No, security list.”
“Oh my god! I hate that you’re all famous sometimes.” She says through gritted teeth. 
“I need to find John B. Make sure Rafe doesn’t find out!” She says running off down the hall again. 
“Find out what?” Sofia’s voice comes from behind him. 
“Jesus, Sofia, be louder next time.”
“Sorry. What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. Y/N just got engaged and Sarah doesn’t want anyone to know yet.’
“Fun! Congratulations to them, that’s so exciting!” He sees her pull out her phone and walk in the direction of the busses.
“See you, Top!”
“On the bus?” He asks her. 
“Yeah.” She gives him a toothy grin. 
Shit. Topper thinks. She’s going to tell Rafe. 
+++
Kyle had just made him run way too much. Keeping up his stamina was important to perform every night. This time though Kyle really wanted to kill him. 
“You hate me, man.” He says opening up his phone. Kyle laughs. 
“You did great.” He tells him as they start their walk back to the arena. 
He has a few notifications from Instagram from friends back home sending him reels and Wheezie tagging him in stories. He swipes out of Instagram and goes on to his Twitter quickly checking to see if the lineup for the show had started already, trying to see which way they took back to the arena without being seen. 
Something catches his eye as he scrolls past it, he scrolls back up trying to find the pink icon. 
‘@KSUpdates: 💍💍💍’ He reads through the other tweets wondering what that’s all about, were they promoting something he forgot about? He keeps scrolling until he sees someone say that Y/N’s engaged. He stops where he is, Kyle looking at him questioningly. 
“You okay?” His head is spinning, his heart is racing faster than when he was working out, and he feels like throwing up. No, he’s not okay. 
“I need to go.” He starts booking it to the arena, Kyle trailing behind him. 
He has three unanswered texts from Sarah, a call from Topper, and one from Kelce by the time he makes it back to the arena. He says bye to Kyle and rushes to the bathroom. He’s going to throw up, he feels lightheaded. 
He didn’t realize how not okay he was with losing her forever right until this moment. He couldn’t face it for the longest time. He loves Sofia. He does. She has been important to him, his growth, and his life, she’s been an amazing partner. But that’s all she’s been. A friend. Because he couldn’t give her his heart. Not when Y/N was out there already walking around with it. She had never given it back. She owned it, owned him. He knew that now. With every fibre in his being, he knew that he was still in love with her. And she was marrying someone else. He was losing her. 
His breathing feels laboured. He feels the room continue spinning, he slides down the bathroom wall trying to keep the panic attack at bay. How could he be so stupid? How could it take him so long to realize that he couldn’t live without her no matter how hard he tried? It would always be her. 
He hears his phone ringing again but ignores it. He needs to get his breathing under control before he can talk to anyone. They can’t know he’s losing it. 
He needs to do something. He needs to get his shit under control and talk to Y/N. He hasn’t had a panic attack in so long. He’s not used to dealing with it. He needs to find Barry first. 
+++
She’s in one of her moods again, every time Julio leaves she gets sad and it takes her a day or two to get back into the swing of things. It’s been a week since she had asked Rafe for space. She thinks that she’ll be able to work towards forgiving him or at least putting the past behind her. After talking to Cleo, Sarah, and Julio, they had all given her the same advice. Do what she believes is the best next step for her. 
She notices Sarah hovering over Rafe like a mother hen, checking in on him, asking him if he’s okay every two seconds. She doesn’t know what happened but Topper had told her he went missing for the entire day until their show. And she’s pretty sure he showed up high. She’s scared for him. He’s been clean for so long that getting into drugs again now could shock his system. He’s not her responsibility anymore but she cares if he lives or dies. 
That same day that Rafe went missing, everyone was congratulating her for being engaged. The updates account had hinted at her being engaged too, she doesn’t know where they got that information, she not only had to tweet, she had to tell the entire team that no, she was not engaged. 
It had been a stupid misunderstanding that Sarah had apologized for a significant amount. Cleo had asked Julio how he would propose so Julio had set the scene for her and gotten down on one knee and Y/N had played along. Stupid and dumb. 
She’s reading a contract for a new magazine shoot she’s doing when Rafe comes up to her. 
“Hey.” He seems anxious. He can’t seem to stand still and his hair’s a mess.
“Hi, you good?” She asks him. 
“No.” She gives him her full attention now. Wondering what he’s about to say to her. 
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m selfish.” She doesn’t like the tone he says it in. Like he knows he’s about to tell her something he shouldn’t.
“Whatever you’re about to say don’t.” She goes back to her contract, staring at it blankly.
“When I thought you were engaged-”
“Rafe. Enough.”
“I had never felt so heartbroken in my life.” She’s shaking her head at him, trying to get him to stop.
“And I thought, I have to stop this now. I have to do whatever I can to stop it before it goes too far and I have to ruin your wedding. Because I would. Because I’m selfish.” She doesn’t know what to say to that so she says the first thing that comes to mind.
“It’s too late.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” There’s desperation in his voice, his eyes glassy.
“You’re engaged!” She yells, getting up and in his face.
“No, I love you.”
“I love Julio.”
“I love you.”
“Stop!” She turns her back to him and tries to find her breath.
“None of that changes how I feel. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to figure myself out.” She feels him behind her, looming over her shoulder.
“Why are you telling me any of this?”
“I can’t lose you. And that’s what’s happening because I’m an idiot. But I can’t lose you and I’m going to fight for you.” She turns around to face him, taking a step back, creating distance between them.
“There’s no fighting for me. We’re done. We’ve been over for so long. For three years I only spoke to you on stage or in interviews! There’s no us.”
“Tell me you don’t love me.”
“Rafe.” Her voice is firm but he doesn’t care.
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t ever have to see me again.”
“Not possible. The band.” She doesn’t know why she needs to make sure the band is safe in this moment, so much has happened between them to keep it alive, it can’t be at risk now.
“Outside of that then. Tell me.” She stays quiet, shaking her head once more.
“Please.” She snaps.
“I was in love with you for years! Since I was 13 years old you have lit up my goddamn world and when you finally gave me that chance, when you started looking at me like we could be something you ripped it all away. You hurt me so much and now? Now is when you want to come back and tell me everything I’ve been hoping for for years. Now when you’re getting married and I’m in a happy relationship?” She finishes, her chest heaving anger leaving her body in droves.
“You’re not in a happy relationship.”
“Rafe.” Her tone is warning him to not continue.
“Come on!  He doesn’t understand you the way I do! Doesn’t understand the life we live, and the sacrifices we have made to be where we are. He’s not good enough for you.”
“And you are?” 
“No.” She throws her hands up, “but, I understand you. I know who you are at your core, baby.” 
“Stop.” She’s sure she’s shooting daggers at him now.
“Why?”
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“No, why are you with him?” He’s close to her again, she can feel his breath hitting her face.
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because I love him!” Rafe’s face falls. She exhales. “I love him.”
“No, you don’t.” She stays quiet. 
“You can’t.” He backs up a little, his head shaking, eyes sad.
“Rafe,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. She reaches out but pulls her arm away quickly.
“It’s too late.” She repeats her words from earlier.
“But I love you.” She doesn’t want to hurt him but she knows she has to put an end to this.
“I don’t love you.”
“I’m so stupid. Oh my god, how did I ever let you go? I’m an idiot th-“ she cuts him off putting a hand on his arm.
“Hey hey, stop. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”
“How?” Tears are threatening to spill over now. His eyes are red. She doesn’t know if it’s from holding back tears or from smoking.
“By being friends.” His blue eyes pierce into hers.
“I’ll try.”
“Okay.” There are a lot of things left unsaid between them. She hugs him for the first time in years and he puts his face in the crook of her neck. She feels him crying. His tears soaking her neck.
“I love you.” She does too. Not in the way that he wants. Not anymore.
“I know.”
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animanga-bonanza · 11 days
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The Magneto/Rogue/Gambit love triangle is not only great because of how #telenovela it is, but because it puts Rogue into a dilemma that forces her to make character-defining choices and grow as a person. It’s classic Want vs Need. Rogue wants physical intimacy, mistakenly believing that it is necessary for love, but needs to realize that real love is so much more than that. “Some things are deeper than skin.”
This is an example of how to do a romantic subplot that actually serves the narrative and character development. Plus, the chemistry that Rogue has with both Magneto and Gambit feels natural instead of forced (seriously idk how they managed to make Magneto x Rogue genuinely hot).
I know a lot of folks like to argue about the morality of the situation and make it all about Gambit and his hurt feelings, but I find that to be a boring way of looking at it. This subplot isn’t about a man getting his heart broken, it’s about a woman learning about love for the first time.
We gotta remember that Rogue is incredibly inexperienced when it comes to love, and the little experience she does have is colored by pain and regret. The first time she kissed her first boyfriend, her powers almost killed him. That’s obviously going to traumatize you. Then she met Magneto, the only person she could safely touch* and explore her sexuality with, but that relationship was never going to pan out for obvious reasons. After that, she was afraid of getting romantically involved with anyone.
Rogue and Gambit maintained a casual flirtation with undercurrents of real passion and yearning for a deeper relationship, but Rogue understandably kept him at a distance — she couldn’t forgive herself if she hurt him. Gambit understood this, and for his part, was afraid of getting into a serious relationship because he felt that he was unworthy.
Magneto is the catalyst who forces Gambit and Rogue to do some necessary introspection and be honest about their feelings, instead of playing this endless game of “will they or won’t they.” For Gambit and Rogue to build something real together, they need to step out of their performative roles as Scoundrel and Cher. Of course it’s messy, and dramatic, and confusing, and frustrating, and heartbreaking. But that’s love. “There is no love without sin.”
In fairness to all three of them, I think they handled the situation as maturely as they could, with honest communication about what they wanted. There’s no deception or manipulation here, just three people trying to navigate a messy and emotionally-charged entanglement.
As for Magneto, I think he genuinely cares for Rogue and loves her in his own way. But I feel like he’s using her to fill the void left in his heart by Charles. I don’t think he’s secretly “evil” or anything like that — but Gambit is right to be skeptical of his motives.
Overall, once Magneto and Gambit come back (AND THEY BETTER COME BACK OR ISTG MARVEL — ), they’ll get necessary closure, and Rogue and Gambit will offically become the power couple they were always meant to be.
*I’ve seen people wonder why Rogue doesn’t just wear one of those mutant suppression collars so she can safely touch Gambit. Idk how the comics deal with that issue and I don’t remember if the original 90s cartoon did, but the way I see it, it’s not just about the physical act of touching. It’s about intimacy. Being able to be your full, truest self with another person. Having to wear a collar that was made to oppress your people in order to experience a basic human pleasure would be degrading and take away from that intimacy.
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I was rewatching the 90’s Addams Family movies and it got to the part where Wednesday and Pugsley are preforming what I think is a scene from Hamlet at their school’s talent show and now I need a season of Wednesday where Enid forces Wednesday to audition for Nevermore’s school play with her.
Because I just know that Wednesday will be like “fine, but I won’t enjoy it” only to be super into it, go completely overboard and already have all of Shakespeare memorised leading to her getting the lead role and the entire Addams family coming to watch.
Best case scenario Romeo and Juliet but Wednesday’s Romeo and Enid’s Juliet and Wednesday makes it 1000x more gruesome than it already is and is always changing the lines but while maintaining perfect Shakespearean English leaving whoever’s directing (preferably Bianca) to be like “you know what sure this might as well happen”
Their opening performance is at the end of the season and also during the final battle against whoever the current villain is and when it gets to the part at the end where Romeo stabs themselves to be with Juliet Wednesday gets stabbed for real backstage but just decides go with it and finish her performance before telling anyone.
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Enid: Wednesday you were stabbed! Why didn’t you say anything?
Wednesday: I was method acting, Enid. Don’t disregard my craft. My performance was immaculate.
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