#Those other managers let their actors get played!

[respectthepetty]

The scene where Gun is breaking up with Golf due to them never seeing each other anymore is ironic since Golf is literally sitting in front of Gun and STILL CAN'T SEE HIM because of that horrible wig!

Jesus, send us a pair of shears! Send us your hairstylist too. Between this and Until We Meet Again, this wig deserves its retirement. It is hanging on by a mere synthetic fiber.

Who is in love with First that he got off scot-free this entire series? Homeboy's hair was living its best life while everyone else suffered.

Was good hair the trade-off for having acne in the first half of the show?

I have so many questions about the choices that were made regarding this show, and strangely, most are NOT about the plot. No, they are all about the wigs.

[desperateaccount]

i think if u let Qi too much on his research i think he would turn into Daryl

[infictionalwonderland]

I NEED PART TWO OF THE MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N L/N!

. . . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT! (part2)

You cackled to yourself after sending the message into your groupchat, quickly returning to the video and beginning to play it again, occasional bursts of giggles slipping through your lips.

Resuming your place in the video—the first clip that began playing was actually from not that long ago at all. It was You, Kat Dennings, Elizabeth Olsen and Zendaya at Taylor Swifts Eras Tour (an experience you would genuinely never forget). Taylor was playing Lover and, in the clip, Kat had your face in one hand and the other wrapped around your waist, bringing you close to her body.

“Lover, can I go where you go—“ Kat sang with Taylor, singing all the lyrics to you and grinning at you, faces inches away from each other. “—Can we always be this close.” She punctuated this lyric with giving you an eskimo kiss.

You smiled sincerely at the memory.

The next clip began up, it was you and Chris Evans doing Playground Insults with BBC Radio 1: the two of you were sat opposite each other, knees touching, Chris was grinning goofily at you, giddy laughs escaping him as you tried to remain straight faced.

“—we’re here with Chris Evans and Y/N Y/L/N.” The presenters introduced.

“And we’re about to play Playground Insults . . Now Chris and Y/N are sat opposite each other,” the camera cut to you and Chris, him smiling largely and you looking away to contain your own, “the atmosphere is very tense.”

“We’ve done this quite a few times now but im thinking.. this is the biggest movie of the year, let’s make this the biggest playground insults we’ve ever done.”

“Yep.” Chris nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Chris, hun. . you’re ugly. Like, plain ugly.” You nodded seriously, immediately setting off as you feigned a pained wince to the words. “Everyone’s been talking about it. . just, you’re so atrocious to look at. Honestly, I almost feel arse over tits in horror when I saw you.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something but then faltered and pouted, “no matter how good of an actor I am, I could never even get those words out my mouth about you and make them sound genuine. Seriously.”

The third clip started—it was Chris Hemsworth on a carpet, a bold colourful question at the bottom said ‘WHO HAS THE MOST FANS?’. Chris immediately said, “Y/n.” In that deep Australian accent of his. “Not that I blame the people from choosing her to be the people’s queen, she is truly one of a kind. You’ll only ever meet one Y/n in your lifetime, cherish it. The fans have the right idea.”

It changed to Scarlett with the same colourful question at screen and at the same carpet event: “Oh, Yeah. Y/n, one hundred percent.” She chuckled huskily. “That woman has fans upon fans and seriously, I’m one of them. She is something else.” She grinned, winking at the camera.

After Scarlett, Paul Rudd came onto your screen in the very same clip. “Oh! The legend herself, Y/N Y/L/N.” Paul answered brightly, smiling. “The amount of fans she has is unbelievable—well, it’s definitely believable for someone like her, so, not really unbelievable..”

The forth clip began—it was you all playing Family Feud with Jimmy Kimmel, on his live show. Sebastian and RDJ were currently facing off; Jimmy posed the question “what, other than the sun, are some of the hottest things to exist?”

Sebastian got to the buzzer faster than Robert managed to and didn’t even falter or hesitate as he answered straight away, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The audience immediately screamed laughed and shrieked in delight, RDJ just nodded his head in understanding and appreciation, clapping his hands. Chris Evans, Mark and Anthony on the other side all looked amused but ultimately accepting (Chris was nodding along almost subconsciously). You were on the other team, looking heavenward with a faint exasperated grin and Scarlet wrapped her arm around your waist, Chris Hemsworth smirking at you both.

The fifth clip started up: it was a behind the scenes shot from Endgame, the big final battle. You were currently in the middle of doing your own stunt, green screen behind you and harnesses strapped to you as you dangled at a halfway point in the air. Your arms and hands were positioned in such a way to show your character manipulating her powers—the position also very much enhanced your chest, with the added help of your superhero attire. You looked hot, even you could admit.

The camera mirthfully panned to some of the rest of the cast who all stood aside while you filmed your scene—said cast being Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Gwyneth Paltrow, RDJ, Elizabeth Olsen and Tessa Thompson. All of their eyes were fixated on you, Robert was the only one grinning in amusement (and awe) while all the others stared at you as though you hung the sun yourself.

“Boobies.” Lizzie giggled faintly, her eyes stuck. The rest of the cast watching dumbly nodded while the crew cracked up behind the cameras.

And if you screenshotted their dumbfounded faces looking ip at on screen you. . well that was your business.

The clip changed. It was now Karen Gillan being interviewed on some carpet event, looking genuinely breathtaking. The interviewer was asking, “—obviously, your friend and co-star Y/N Y/L/N has been in lots of iconic movies. . what is your favourite scene of hers in The Wolf of Wall Street?”

Karen paused with a cheeky little smile, giving the interviewer a a jokingly incredulous look. “Come on.” She simply said. “It’s a bloody no brainer, I’m certain it was Leonardo’s favourite scene too. . I hope it is anyway otherwise he’s a silly, silly man.”

At the same carpet event with the same interviewer, Chris Hemsworth was being interviewed—his wife, Elsa, on his arm and looking half ready to battle off any rude interviewers (queen).

“—what is your favourite scene of hers in Ocean’s 8?”

“All of them!” Elsa answered eagerly, grinning. “Her outfits really accentuated her personality and I enjoyed them very much so. Particularly her outfit for the gala. . the amount of accentuated personality, by gosh, it had me speechless.”

Chris turned her head, obviously trying not to laugh at his wife.

“Nunca he estado más celoso y agradecido por la ropa en mi vida.” Elsa hummed.

You blinked.

The clip changed to you, Sebastian, Lizzie, Paul, Jeremy and Jimmy all on his Tonight Show playing Musical Beers. The slightly unnerving music/beat played in the background while you all stalked around the circle, Paul and Jeremy already out—leaving you, Seb, Lizzie and Jimmy.

As you were all racing around the circular table, Lizzie very obviously swatted your ass and you were impressed with your own body as you watched that impact: the audience erupted into laughs and shrieks, Jimmy playfully covering his eyes as Seb smirked. You thought that would be the end of the clip, but no.

The very disco-esk tune briefly cut out and past time you thought that meant it stopped completely and you’d already reached for the red cup in front of you and chugged it’s contents, only to pause as the music began back up.

“Spit it back! Spit it back!”

You did just that—but when the music actually stopped and Seb was left standing in front of the cup with your (let’s not go there) in it, your mouth popped open in shock. Jeremy gladly backed away from the table in hysterics, Lizzie and Jimmy equally as amused.

“Oh my god, I am—“

Sebastian quickly downed the cup with. . those contents, not even looking all that perturbed.

“So sorry.” You finished, mouth agape.

You vaguely remembered a conversation you’d had with him after the show, sincerely and repeatedly apologising and he was just very, very amused with you. He didn’t seem to mind at all—what an odd man.

“It’s all good.” Sebastian chuckled lowly, wrapping the mortified looking past you in a one armed shoulder hug and squeezing you to him. Lizzie seemed to be trying to trade a very obvious eye message with you—the audience shrieked and screamed in the background.

Another clip began: its was you and Scarlett Johansson doing a trust fall thing, you thought (correctly).

“Scarlett I swear. .” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at the woman behind you—she grinned back at you amusedly, her eyes twinkling.

“Calm down.” She laughed herself. “I’ll catch you don’t worry, gorgeous.”

Still slightly overcome with nervous giggles, you turned and let out a breath as you shut your eyes before holding at your arms and falling back.

And catch you she definitely did—although her hands didn’t exactly land in a PG-13 area, you cackled as you watched her hands grope at your chest to pull you up. In the video, you were also wheezing as were the crew and Scarlett had a cheeky little smirk as she laughed.

When you were finally standing, she gave one last squeeze before finally letting go—on screen you was breathless with giggles.

“Always wanted to do that.” She shrugged simply with a large amused smile.

The next clip began—it was Zendaya and Tom Holland on LADBible, playing that how much do you agree or not game. The statement said was ‘Y/N Y/L/N is everyone‘s celebrity crush’.

Instantly, Tom and Zendaya moved their cups to strongly agree, both of them nodding in solid agreement with the statement: presently, you awed at your friends, ego very much boosted. Well. To be fair, all of this video was massively boosting your ego.

“I mean, come on.” Zendaya made a ‘duh’ face and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s Y/N.” Tom smiled crookedly, adding onto her comment.

“I am so happy I get to now say that she’s one of my closest friends.” Zendaya beamed genuinely. “She’s—one of those people whose beauty isn’t just an external thing, she’s so lovely man.” She pouted, in awe of you.

Watching the video, you beamed back at her.

The clip changed: Mark Ruffalo was on the Graham Norton show, next to Nicki Minaj and an actor you couldn’t place.

“Who would you say your favourite co-star has ever been, Mark?” Graham inquired.

“I—i would probably have to go with Y/N—“ The crowd instantly erupted into cheers and yells and Nicki smiled next to him, stating that she loved you under the sound of cheering. Mark grinned back at her, mumbling ‘me too’.

“Yeah, she’s a hell of an actress, that one. So easy to work with. Funny as f—hell, she’s just—an extremely genuine and kind person, and she really brings the energy on set.” Mark grinned. “..she’s also the only free pass my wife has ever given me. Which I won’t be using! Because I don’t believe in cheating, it’s scummy! Even though she’s gorgeous—anyone would be lucky!” He had to rise to a shout at the end as the audience erupted.

Nicki giggled next to him, “me personally, I would use that pass.”

You gasped in laughter as you watched the screen, screen-recording it all so you could go back and watch it. Saving it to your folder titled PISSING MY PANTS HRLP

The clip changed yet again, showing a scene from the Winter Solider BTS. You and Sebastian were filming a scene where he had to shoot your character—you watched the ‘Winter Solider’ shoot your character multiple times making you go down with an agonised yell, crawling away from him.

As soon as CUT was yelled, Sebastian’s face dropped from his stone cold (wintery) expression and he raced to you, crouching next to you. He practically tugged you into his lap on the floor, holding you.

“Oh my fuck that—that just felt so real, Y/n. You know I would never hurt you right?” He asked, blinking repeatedly before a small smirk fell on his lips. “You’re way too pretty to injure doll. Can’t ruin your perfect face.”

On screen you huffed in mock anger, hiding an amused grin as you shoved at him—he still held you close to him though, so both of you fell backwards and burst into giggles.

You literally thought ‘I ship them’ as you watched the clip of Sebastian and yourself, forgetting that was you for a moment.

Another clip started up—another behind the scenes. It was you and Tom Hiddleston in Thor : Ragnarok. In the scene Loki was tied down to the chair and your character was meant to intimidate him—you watched yourself take out your character’s daggers and lean forward into his space. One leg leaned up on top of the arm of the chair, sliding one dagger just a hair above the skin of his neck while using the over the move his chin up to be angled to you as you mockingly smiled down at him.

You said your line as your character but Tom remained silent, mouth parted and eyes widened as he gazed up at you—speech failing him. (You knew that they actually decided to include this awestruck look in the movie—the amount of fucking edits you’d seen was unreal).

Eyebrows crinkling you nudged your knee into his chest and he snapped out of it, grabbing your knee in a gentle grip. “Sorry darling, words sometimes seem to fail me in your presence.” He muttered rather hoarsely, still staring up at you.

“I don’t fucking blame him.” Tessa Thompson murmured from behind you both, and the camera moved to show her staring at you in a similar awe.

Present time, you could barely hide your smirk. Literally the biggest ego boost. Of all time.

Again, the clip changed and it was now Natalie Portman looking gorgeous on a carpet event, being interviewed—“if you could have Jane explore another romance than Thor, who would it be and why?”

“Y/N!” Natalia enthused immediately. “Well—her character, but like. Both. Either. One for me, one for Jane. That—would be great. And why? Come on! She’s an absolutely beautiful woman, inside and out. She has this outward glow that you literally cannot and don’t want to look away from and that reflects so much in her personality—once you’ve interacted with her one time, you never want to stop. Ever. I’m not kidding.” She giggled.

Another clip started up quickly—a blooper of you and Chris Evans. In this scene, your characters were meant to kiss after an angsty, angry argument. You stormed into the frame, into the bedroom, completely in character—an angry expression on and ready to go at Steve.

Before you could even let out a single syllable to begin your lines, Chris immediately surged forward and took your face in his hands, kissing the living daylights out of you.

You both pulled back after a bit and you just started at him, questioningly (that kiss was probably one of your best ever, let it be known, Chris Evans was a fantastic kisser).

“I—I thought It’d be good for the scene. .” Chris trailed off bashfully, scratching the base of his neck, literally pulling the excuse out of his arse. In actuality, he hadn’t wanted to spare a moment of the scene where he could be kissing you, well, not doing so.

“Bull!” Scarlett exclaimed as she materialised in the doorway. “He just wanted to kiss you.” She told you, pointedly looking at the man.

“Yeah—i—“ He huffed a defeated sigh, pink-cheeked. “I’ve got nothing. She’s right.”

In hindsight, you thought to yourself, you should probably stop being so shocked when the fanbase starts shipping you with your costars.

The clip changed: now it was you, Elizabeth and Aaron on a carpet event together—all being interviewed at the same time.

“So, Y/n, how does it feel to be in a Maximoff twin sandwich right now?” The interviewer giggled happily, smiling.

Before you could open you’re mouth—“we’re really enjoying it.” Lizzie and Aaron replied at the same time.

The interview gaped and you simply rolled your eyes as the two smirked at either side of you, they’d been talking in sync ever since you’d first met them at the table reading.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t why?” Aaron grinned crookedly. “A beautiful, lovely woman in between us. Honestly, love, there’s not a thought in my head besides you.” He joked, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“I completely support that.” Lizzie chirped in, “ever since I’ve met this gorgeous lady who i now acknowledge as my partner in everything—she’s taken up all of the room in my brain, and I couldn’t be happier.” She giggled, putting her arm around your waist.

In the middle of them both, with an arm over your shoulder and one around your waist—you simply sighed, sparing the giddy interviewer an exaggerated suffering expression.

Again, the clip switched—it was now another blooper of you in the Iron Man movie, the scene where you handed Tony’s arse to him in the boxing ring. Instead of acting as scripted, Gwen Paltrow got up from her seat and strode over to the boxing ring, stepping inside gracefully and planting one right on your lips.

Presently, you giggled as you thought back to this moment. Gwen was your impulsive queen. Your idol.

From the floor, RDJ squawked in shock, exclaiming about being cheated and betrayed and Gwen flung her stiletto off her foot at him without moving from your lips.

When she finally did, she simply smiled at you kindly, “you just looked so good that I couldn’t not kiss you, sweets.” She shrugged and you, on screen, laughed at her as you leaned back in to kiss her cheek.

(Unfortunately the scene was not included in the movie—but Gwen never wasted an opportunity to talk about it, and you, if the chance arose).

The clip moved onto another one—back to the Thor : Ragnarok movie, you and Heimdall were fighting together, however you missed a step in your stunt and ended up stumbling. Idris immediately caught you with a steady arm around your waist, full you to him so you could stabilise yourself.

You smiled up at him thankfully, squeezing his arm in gratitude (totally not because you’d just wanted to feel his bicep).

You watched as your on screen self get distracted again and Idris murmured to Tom who’d now appeared next to him, “I feel like it’s dishonourable how much I want her to fall so I can catch her again now.”

“Mate, trust me,” Tom laughed, “I completely understand. But she doesn’t need the rescuing.”

“That she does not.” Both men smiled fondly as they watched you.

Presently, you were actively refusing to blush.

A different clip started up—Florence Pugh was being interviewed, looking breathtaking in her green dress. “—did you take anything from set?” The interviewer was asking, smiling at Florence.

“Um—not much, just Y/n’s heart.” Florence immediately cracked up at her own joke, smiling widely. “And her underwear too.” She added.

The interviewer opened her mouth to say something more, giggling at Florence as she continued speaking: “and before you ask, no. I wouldn’t be selling, for any price. Finders keepers and all that shite—plus, she’s my girl, so. That rule applies even more so. No one else can take her heart. Or her pants.”

Watching your friend, you giggled at her cheesy smile at her words before getting distracted by your group chat, where multiple of your friends and co-starts had seen your message and were now responding. Your laughter increased tenfold as you opened the thread.

[emberuby]

heartthrobs (i don't belong to anyone else) | s.jy + p.sh

pairing: manager! jake x actress! reader x actor! sunghoon

summary: jake seems to lose his patience as you keep being shipped with your series costar, park sunghoon. an argument between the two leads to a night to prove who you truly belong to.

warnings: smut, established relationship (with jake), jealousy, possessiveness, threesome, unprotected sex, face sitting, oral (both f and m rec), vaginal sex, rough sex, degradation, creampie, dom! jake, dom/kind of switch! sunghoon, sub! reader, some jakehoon action.

note: this is sort of a spin-off of the queen's guard? but not really bc u don't need to read it to understand this, it's more of a mention. also, this is my first threesome/poly fic ahhh hope it's okay. like always, feedback is greatly encouraged and if you have any questions let me know. ^^

wc: 5.2k

“So what was it like filming all those sex scenes?” the interviewer asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

The crowd erupted in excited noises, now that the panel was discussing what they had all come to hear. The panel was a long white table, and sitting on it were the rising stars of the hit historical romance series, ‘The Queen’s Guard’. 

Lately, everyone in the world seemed to be obsessed with Park Sunghoon and you. You two played the main characters of the show, and your chemistry was so strong that people began mixing reality with fiction, thinking you two worked amazingly as a real-life couple when in actuality, you were already in a long-term relationship. 

You laughed awkwardly, looking over at Sunghoon for help in replying, but unlike you, Sunghoon always seemed to like these kinds of questions. He was definitely guilty of playing into your PR performances where you two pretended to be utterly enamoured with each other. 

You raised your microphone to your lips, “Well actually, filming those scenes is much less glamorous than they seem on screen. It’s quite mechanical; it gets sweaty and hot and very awkward. Sorry to burst your bubble everyone, but it’s not really the environment to get turned on in.” A couple of people laughed at your answer, including the interviewer.

“Speak for yourself. I think it’s quite sexy filming with you,” Sunghoon smirked at you. This caused screeches and cheers to come from the room. You rolled your eyes at him, as though to tell him to tone it down on the flirting. Sunghoon always flirted with you so obviously it was almost too much to handle. You looked over at the edge of the stage to see your boyfriend sitting there, face stoic and still, not showing any signs of emotion. 

You knew it bothered Jake how much people shipped you with your co-star, even if he tried not to show it. You tried to not care too much, given it was a part of your job, but you always felt a bit guilty when you had to act this way for the camera. 

The team behind the current press tour toldyou and Sunghoon to play along into the bit and act as though the time you spent together while filming has made you two fall in love. It was indeed a great marketing strategy, but Jake was possessive and liked for people to know you were his. 

Surely he was not happy with the new wave of people convinced that your real boyfriend was Park Sunghoon.

You spoke up again, “Hoon is only joking. Honestly, I think we both have gotten used to filming sex scenes, but especially in the beginning, it was very awkward. Do you guys recall the scene in season one? It was in my bed chambers with—”

You didn’t even have to finish your sentence before the crowd erupted in excitement, knowing exactly what you were going on about. You were of course talking about the scene in the previous season where your character loses her virginity to Sunghoon’s. It was incredibly intimate and a fan-favourite scene due to the chemistry and sexuality. It was a great payoff to a rather slow and burning build-up. 

“If I may add something,” Sunghoon spoke into his mic, making everyone go still. “That was actually the second scene we ever filmed together.”

“No kidding!” the interviewer gasped into her mic, “So you guys stepped foot on set and immediately just started taking your clothes off?” 

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh, and you covered your face with your palm to hide your flustered expression. God, this was embarrassing. 

“It was a very awkward scene to film,” you said. “You can imagine, we weren’t very familiar with the set and the story yet, but I believe the director chose to film it so early on to see how our chemistry worked together. I suppose we did well because we weren’t replaced by other actors.” 

Sunghoon chuckled at your remark. “We make a great pair, her and I,” he said cheekily, and you knew for sure that clip would run wild on social media after people got their hands on it. Sunghoon was always a PR machine. 

You looked back again at your boyfriend. Jake was seething as he sat restlessly on the backstage of the panel. There you were, looking beautiful as ever, answering the ever-so-annoying questions and playing pretend lovers with Sunghoon.

Jake never disliked the fact that you were an actor. His jealousy never stemmed from the fact that you had to kiss and pretend to have sex with your co-stars, he knew that was your job and he respected it. 

‘The Queen’s Guard’ was actually quite a guilty pleasure for him. He would sometimes turn on an episode when you weren’t around, especially because of your disdain for watching projects you were featured in. 

He quite liked the show. How could he say he didn’t enjoy watching you getting railed in a historical setting? You always looked so sexy in your tight corsets that made your breasts press up against your chest and your gilded historical gowns. Not to mention all the close-up shots of your ass and thighs when you would ride Sunghoon’s character that always managed to give him a hard-on. 

He supposed the story was also interesting.

Ever since your new rise to fame and the success of the show, he knew that a whole new wave of people would be obsessing over you. It was a given when you looked that beautiful and sexy, but at the end of the day, he was the one you came home to, and he was the one who made you see stars while bouncing on his cock every night.

The problem for Jake was the parading of your and Sunghoon’s potential relationship. Everyone online seemed to love you two together and wanted you to get together, and he hated that. 

Come on, people. It literally says right there on your Wikipedia page, ‘Partner: Sim Jaeyun’ since four years ago. Not Park Sunghoon, nor anyone else. How much more clear could it be?

For fuck’s sake, he’s Sunghoon's manager and he was the reason he even got the role in the series, and this is how he repays him? By making fuck eyes at his girlfriend and flirting with her on camera for the whole world to see? 

He knew that Sunghoon had developed an attraction to you during the filming of the series, that was obvious enough. You may have not realised it because of how loyal and devoted you were to Jake, but this was more than a PR performance for Sunghoon. The bastard so obviously wanted to fuck you and it made him look ridiculous. 

“Just before we wrap up this panel,” the interview chimed, “could you two give us some insight into the third season? I heard some talk around the town that filming will begin soon.”

“Yes, that’s correct. We will be off to Scotland in a few weeks to shoot the upcoming season. We really can’t reveal much, but what is it that you would like to know?” Sunghoon spoke up, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

You shook your head, knowing that Sunghoon just opened a can of worms with that question. 

The interviewer smiled mischievously as she said, “On a scale of one to ten, how steamy is this next season about to be?” People in the room began cheering in anticipation.

“Thirteen,” Sunghoon said confidently. There were whistles and exclaims heard throughout the room, and it truly felt like the crowd erupted in excitement. You giggled at all their reactions, but he wasn’t even remotely wrong; the next few seasons were about to be intense. “I swear I’m not exaggerating. I got the chance to read the script recently and had to change my pants like three times.”

You covered your face with your palms at his crude comment, shocked by its implications. No wonder people loved Sunghoon so much, he really played into the bit. 

The interview ended shortly thereafter, and before you could stand up to get off your seat, Sunghoon came up to you and held out his hand for you to take. You blushed, knowing that everyone in the room was watching your interaction. You placed your hand into his palm and you two walked off together side by side. 

As you walked off the stage, you didn’t fail to notice the way Jake’s jaw was clenched and he was throwing daggers at your and Sunghoon’s intertwined hands. You swiftly let go of Sunghoon’s hand and began walking up to your boyfriend. 

God, he looked so hot when he was jealous. You tried to lean up to give him a peck on his cheeks, but he grabbed you by the waist and pressed his lips onto yours. You were startled as you felt his tongue plunge into your cavern, and you were mortified as you accidentally let a whimper slip past your tongue.

The backstage was mostly empty except for Sunghoon and a few staff walking around minding their business, but you weren’t used to Jake doing such public displays of affection. He slipped his hand down to your skirt, taking a handful of your ass, and before your mind could trail off and forget where you were, you pushed Jake off you. Your breathing was shaky as you tried to compose yourself, your panties already getting wet from a mere kiss. 

Perhaps you got excited at the thought of getting so intimate with Jake in front of others, especially Sunghoon. You shook your head to snap out of your thoughts. You shouldn’t have been thinking of other men that way. 

“Might as well piss on her to claim your territory,” Sunghoon remarked with a controlled smirk. God, Jake would do anything to slap that smile off his face. 

“Well, she is my territory, so maybe you two need to cut back on the camera flirting,” Jake said with a frustrated tone. One of his arms was still wrapped around your waist, wanting to clearly show Sunghoon who you really belonged to.

“That’s quite dramatic of you,” Sunghoon said, taking a step closer to you. “You know what this industry is like, Jake. It’s all for show.” 

“I think I can tell when a guy is trying to fuck my girlfriend,” Jake said, letting out a sigh of frustration. 

“Jake,” you said warningly, placing a hand on his chest. “You need to relax. Like Sunghoon said, this is just PR. He doesn’t seem me that way—”

“No, I do want to fuck her,” Sunghoon said with a knowing grin. You could feel Jake’s hand tighten around your waist and you snapped your head at Sunghoon in shock. That was forward of him. “But just ‘cause I want to doesn’t mean I’ll act on it, so you can calm yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Park. I gave you this job, your career is in my hands,” Jake sneered. 

“Are you saying that if I keep flirting with your girlfriend, you’ll have me blacklisted?” Sunghoon asked, not seeming threatened by him in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying this petty brawl. 

Jake didn’t say anything. Instead, his focus was now on you. You looked up at him with an annoyed expression, but he couldn’t believe that you were stupid enough to not realise that your own coworker was attracted to you. 

“Practically everyone who watches the show wants to fuck Y/N, it’s not like I’m the only one. And yet you only get bothered about me, I wonder why that is,” Sunghoon pretended to ponder. “Is it because you view me as a threat?”

“In your dreams,” Jake sneered.

“I definitely have had dreams about the three of us, in case you’re asking.” 

You gasped. Surely you three shouldn’t be having this conversation so out in the open like this. 

Jake walked up closer to Sunghoon. The look in Jake’s eyes was a mix of anger but also curiosity. Although he was possessive to a fault, something about the thought of making Sunghoon watch while he fucked you open was enticing. 

Maybe he would even let Sunghoon fuck you a bit, but only to prove to you how much superior Jake was at pleasuring you. If he couldn’t make the world understand that you were his, perhaps he could make Sunghoon understand how obsessed you were with Jake.

He could already imagine it in his head, the astonished look on Sunghoon’s face as you cried and withered as Jake’s cock plummeted inside you, not being able to handle his sheer size and the meticulous way in which he fucked into you. 

“You think you can fuck her better than me?” Jake chuckled, amused at the thought.

Sunghoon’s eyes shined, knowing where this conversation was heading. “I think she’d enjoy herself plenty.”

“Deal. I’ll make you watch as I fuck her open in front of you, and then you’ll understand why she’ll always choose me.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Sunghoon spat. 

Jake rolled his eyes, holding himself back from hitting the egotistic man in front of him. He turned around to look at you questioningly. “What do you think princess?” he asked. 

Your eyes drifted back between the two men towering over you. You’ve always loved Jake so much that it was hard to imagine another man in your life, let alone your bedroom. That being said, now that Jake and Sunghoon were staring at you like this as if you were prey and they were your predators, you felt a wetness begin to form in between your legs at the anticipation. “I-I,” you stuttered, “I think…”

“Say the word, Y/N, and I’ll leave you two alone,” Sunghoon said reassuringly. As much as he wanted to get into bed with his hot manager and even hotter co-star, he didn’t consider himself a home wrecker. 

Jake cupped your chin. “I can tell by the look on your face you want it,” he said. He was all too familiar with your body language and knew by the glint in your eyes that you were interested in this, even if you weren’t before. 

You cleared your throat, trying to gain back your confidence so as to not look too nervous about this whole arrangement. You looked up to Sunghoon, your faces now a mere inches away from each other and said, “Let’s do it. See you tonight in our hotel room.” 

Jake and you were sitting in the back of your Uber, driving back to your hotel room from the bar. He didn’t have much to drink, but the flush on his cheeks gave away how tipsy he was. You couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked.

While you were busy staring, Jake’s head was leaning down towards his phone as he was scrolling through his social media. He knew he was being stupid and dramatic, but he couldn’t help but look up your and Sunghoon’s names on Twitter, only to find some of the most annoying posts he could imagine. 

After the show’s fanbase got their hands on the clips of the panel, they ran wild with it.

‘The way Sunghoon looks at her 🥹’ 

‘I can’t wait for Sunghoon and Y/N to recreate the tower scene in S3. It’s going to be so fucking hot 😩’

‘I just know that Y/N’s man is losing it rn’

That last tweet couldn’t be more right. Jake’s mind was reeling as he read the tweets and watched the edits, all shipping you and Sunghoon together. It was like he was falling down a rabbit hole of misery. Before he could click on one more edit of you and Sunghoon together, he felt his phone being snatched away from his grasp.

“You’re being ridiculous, Jake,” you said sternly, although unable to hide a small smile from how adorable your boyfriend was. 

“They know that you have a boyfriend, isn’t that crazy? Maybe if they thought you were single I’d get it, but come on,” he groaned, shoving his face into his palms. 

You began rubbing his back, “I don’t belong to anyone else.”

He looked over at you with loving eyes. “I know, princess. I just wish everyone knew that.”

You scooted closer to him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You don’t need to prove anything because I fucking love you.”

Jake clicked his tongue and grabbed you by the wrist, bringing your palm down to his crotch. You could feel how hard he got already. “Does it seem like I don’t want to do this? It honestly really turns me on to think of showing that asshole how well you take my cock.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirked. “What if he ends up fucking me better than you?” 

“Tread lightly, Y/N. No man on this earth can make you as wet as me. Nobody will ever make you scream, clench or cum like I can. I’ve ruined your body for anyone else,” he said through gritted teeth. 

You clenched your thighs together to relieve your arousal, and Jake smirked at the sight. 

You began trailing your hands towards his zipper, trying to free him of his trousers, until he swiftly stopped you. “Jake, I want your cock in my mouth,” you whined, giving him the doe eyes that usually worked in getting him to do anything you wanted.

Unfortunately, the eyes didn’t seem to work on him as he shook his head and said, “As much as I want to, princess, save it for later. We’re almost there.” 

When you two finally arrived back at your hotel, it was like you were both shaking in anticipation. You kept wondering what it would be like to be fucked by Jake while another man watched, and Jake was excited at the prospect of showing Sunghoon exactly why you were his.

After you swiped the key card and entered your room, you almost screamed as you saw a figure standing in front of the kitchen table.

“Sunghoon?!” you exclaimed, your mouth gaping open. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Sunghoon had a mug of tea in his hands and looked at you confused. “You told me to come here,” he said matter-of-factly. “Did you already forget?”

“Let me rephrase: how did you get in here? Did you ask the front office? God, that’s so creepy—”

“I gave him an extra key card,” Jake said from behind you. “It was supposed to be for emergencies, so yeah this is pretty fucking creepy.”

“This is an emergency. My balls have been blue all day while I waited for this, so come on, get going,” he said, waving his hands towards the bed. 

You were left astonished, while Jake just grabbed you by the waist and pulled you through the room. He sat you down on the lush mattress, and there you were, looking up towards Jake and Sunghoon while they eyed you like you were their last meal. 

God, tonight would be the death of you. 

“Your dress is beautiful,” Sunghoon said, his eyes glinting. 

You smiled at him warmly, “Thank you—”

“Take it off,” he demanded. The dominating tone sent blood rushing to your cunt, and your mouth was left agape as you continued staring at him. 

He cupped you by the chin, tipping your face upwards. His voice was cold and annoyed when he said, “Did I tell you to freeze and stare? I said take it off.”

Fuck. Holy fuck.

Jake smirked to himself, knowing how much you loved being pushed around during sex. “Come on, princess. Give us a show,” Jake chimed. 

You slowly stood up and looked down at your black mini-dress. It was made of silk and didn’t have any straps. Jake loved you in strapless dresses as he got a clearer view of your cleavage, and it was so easy to slip it off you when he wanted to fuck you quickly in public. 

You reached behind your back to try to unzip your dress but had trouble reaching the pull tab. Jake could see you struggling, so he walked behind you to help you take it off. He slowly unzipped it, savouring the way the silk fabric pooled down your body. 

He finally pulled it down to the floor, and now you were completely bare and open to the two men’s taking. Sunghoon gawked as he noted that you weren’t wearing a bra or a pair of panties underneath your dress.

“You fucking slut,” he whispered, “what if you got caught? What if you flashed some bastard and he got to see your pretty little pussy?”

“I bet she’d like that,” Jake said from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trailing his hands down to your glistening cunt. He used two fingers to begin swirling around on your clit, which caused electricity to travel up your spine.

“N-No!” you moaned.

“No?”

“I only want you to see my pussy. Only you two,” you managed to say while your mind was already running wild at the intimate touch. 

Jake latched his mouth onto your neck, sucking on the sweet spot right above your shoulder. You let out a sigh, which quickly turned into a groan as Sunghoon leaned down to begin sucking on the other side of your neck. The feeling of two pairs of lips was foreign but a very much welcome feeling. It felt like your mind was about to explode at the pleasure erupting in your body. 

Sunghoon split from your skin for a moment to catch his breath and looked up at Jake with enticing eyes. “You’re quite handsome up close,” he said through a mischievous grin. 

Jake rolled his eyes. Given how long Jake had been Sunghoon’s manager, he knew how flirty the man was around everyone, men and women alike. It no longer fazed him when he said things like this. 

Sunghoon leaned towards Jake, his eyes asking permission to take their staring contest to the next step. You watched carefully as their faces began coming closer together, excited at the thought of them kissing each other. 

Jake nodded, and Sunghoon swiftly latched his lips onto Jake’s. Jake’s fingers were still inside your pussy, and at the same time that Sunghoon sucked on his bottom lip, Jake slipped his fingers deeper inside you, making you whine in pleasure. Jake sighed into the kiss.

Given his line of work, Sunghoon was very much used to kissing and making out with other men. Just last year he landed the role of a bisexual vampire, who also happened to be a bit of a whore. That’s all to say, he had plenty of practice with the lips of other guys, and it came like second nature to him now that Jake’s was on his.

You reached behind you to grip Jake’s biceps to help steady you. Jake was getting harder as he could feel your slick begin spilling down his fingers. 

When Sunghoon let go of the kiss, the smile on his face was like that of someone who won an award. He looked so proud of himself, you almost felt amused. 

“Get on the bed, Sunghoon,” Jake said demandingly. Sunghoon did as he was told, laying himself comfortable on the mattress, his head resting up against the silk pillows. God, he was such a brat.

Jake picked you up by the waist and laid you beside Sunghoon on the bed. He pressed one more kiss to your cheek before telling you, “Get on top of him. I want you to sit on his face.”

You raised your eyebrows in shock. Didn’t he want to make Sunghoon watch while he fucked you? Perhaps he changed his mind after that kiss. You supposed Sunghoon really did have a way with his lips and tongue. 

You shakily began straddling his chest and manoeuvring yourself closer to the bed frame. Now there it was, his face had a clear view of your pussy. It was as though his eyes were shaped like hearts as he stared at your cunt, already wet and puffy from the fingering it got from Jake. He needed to devour it immediately. 

Sunghoon grabbed your hips roughly, pulling you down to latch his mouth around your nub. You let out a yelp at the shock of contact. This wasn’t a position you were all too familiar with, and the way Sunghoon’s tongue lapped around your hole was making your thighs quiver. 

“Fuck!” you moaned, throwing your head back.

Jake had to hold back from just jerking himself off at the sight of you like this, so beautiful with your body flowing with pleasure. 

You could feel yourself reaching your climax, and the sensation was all too strong. You began to try to lift yourself above his head, trying to get away from his tongue, before you felt a palm harshly strike you in the ass, causing you to yelp out. 

At first, you thought it was Sunghoon, but both of his hands were still wrapped around your hips. No, this was Jake wanting to punish you for trying to get away from what he told you to do. He landed his palm on you one more time before saying, “If you try that again I will tie you up and eat you out until you’ve cum enough times that you can barely think. Sit on him, properly this time.”

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes at the mixture of pain and pleasure, then felt Jake’s hands be placed on top of Sunghoon’s. You whined as you felt Jake push you down harder onto Sunghoon’s face. You were left breathless at the feeling of his wet mouth and his nose on your clit. 

“He’s going to suffocate!” you said worriedly. Jake was exerting a lot of pressure on your hips, and you were terrified that Sunghoon being enveloped in your thighs and pussy would make it hard for him to breathe. 

Sunghoon raised your hips up ever so slightly to say, “If I died with you cumming on my lips, I’d die a happy man. Don’t worry your pretty head.”

Just like that, he continued the assault on your pussy and you could literally feel his devious smirk on your cunt. You tried to be more involved then, rocking your hips back and forth as he thrust his tongue into your cavern. 

Fuck, you swear you were seeing stars. 

“Jakey…I’m going to cum. I’m coming.”

“Cum on his lips, princess,” Jake whispered behind you. “Let yourself go.”

At his instruction, you cried out in pleasure as you felt a fire ignite in the low of your abdomen. Your vision faded to white as you released, and both Jake and Sunghoon held you steady as you let the orgasm wash over you. 

Sunghoon may have continued eating you out for a while longer, causing a bit of overstimulation. You continued crying out in pleasure before Jake pulled you off of Sunghoon, and gently laid you down with your back on the mattress. 

Your breath was shaky and you already looked fuck out, streaks of wet mascara running down your warm cheeks. Jake loved it when you looked like this. 

Jake quickly plunged his hardened cock inside you, not even giving you a proper moment to take a break. There you were back again, legs spread wide for him, ready to take whatever he gave you.

Even with the preparation that Sunghoon gave your pussy, you still squirmed at the way your walls stretched to accommodate him. At first, he tried to slowly sink his cock into you. He then felt his tip touch your cervix. His hips were pressed against yours and he couldn’t bring himself to go any deeper.

He began rocking himself into you, making your walls clench tighter around him at the pleasure of his cock rubbing on your walls. The way his tip slammed inside of you so deep was making you drool. 

You looked over to see Sunghoon join Jake in taking off his trousers and moving over closer to your head, his cock a mere inches away from your face. You opened your mouth wide to let him push himself inside. He groaned at the feeling of your wet mouth wrapped around his cock, even if it was only the tip. 

You were losing track of where you were and what you were doing, as your mind was becoming hazy at the feeling of Jake’s cock drilling so deep inside you, as well as the struggle you had trying to take Sunghoon’s in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby. Just like that. You look so gorgeous with my cock down your throat,” Sunghoon hissed. 

It was hard to breathe through your nose given how exhausting it was taking two cocks at the same time, but you managed to push through and sucked Sunghoon deeper into your cavern, loving the way his dick felt inside you.

Maybe you were just as insane as Sunghoon because the thought of dying like this, with two cocks shoved inside your holes and overstimulated beyond repair, did not sound like such a bad way to go. 

“Isn’t she just beautiful?” Jake said, caressing your waist to comfort you, as though his cock slamming inside you wasn’t the main reason why your body was shaking so much. Your eyes burned as you felt more tears trail down your face, and Jake reached up to brush them off. 

Jake and you came at around the same time. He spilt his seed deep inside you, loving the way your cunt clenched around him and milked him over every last drop. His cum felt so warm inside your hole, it was almost comforting. 

“Inside or on her face?” Sunghoon asked, feeling himself reach his tipping point. He was going to cum at any moment.

Jake smirked up at him, “My dirty girl likes to swallow, doesn’t she?”

You tried to nod your head, but even that was too exhausting so you let out a muffled noise of agreement. You felt his cum spill inside your throat, and you swallowed as much of it as you could before he pulled out and let some of it spill on your chest and face.

Your eyes were pink and shiny as you looked up at Sunghoon. Surely, you didn’t have the voice to say anything, but you hoped that your pleading eyes were enough to signal to him that you wanted him to come closer to you. 

And there you laid. Jake was behind you, his softening cock still deep inside you as he tried his best to keep his load from spilling out. Sunghoon was in front of you, facing you as the side of his head was lying on the silk pillows. 

All he could do now was just admire how beautiful the two of you were, and think about all the other things he would do with you for the next few hours, perhaps even the next time you three got together. 

Now that Sunghoon got a taste of Jake and you, he wasn’t sure if he could ever let go.

[cow-smells]

Perv! Sanji hc's

Word count: 710

Warnings: sanji being a major creep, dubcon, drunk reader, im not great at warnings so just know this has dark themes and if that's not your jive, its best to skip this one

A/n: honestly and seriously, im embarrassed to have written this. the character of sanji and actor taz live rent free in my head. it is an issue. i will be seeking council

He doesn’t become obsessed with you immediately after you join the crew. He’s after you the same way he is after any other woman, but the more he gets to know you, the less interested he is in other women until eventually, you’re the only one he sees.

And when I say obsessed, I mean the man is OBSESSED.

You could do no wrong in Sanji’s eyes. Every little thing you’d do, he’d fawn over and praise you for

It certainly didn’t hurt that you were receptive to his wandering hands when he would praise you

He took it upon himself to teach you to cook. Whenever you’d manage to improve your skills or make something tasty, Sanji would pick you up in an excited hug, he was so happy you were learning from him

And when he’d put you down from said hug, his hands always somehow found themselves on your bottom, squeezing, pushing you against him

The kitchen was his favourite place to be with you

There was a lot less space to move around than there was in the kitchen at the baratie, but Sanji didn’t mind; it just gave him a reason to have his hands on your waist anytime he needed to move you around – he loved how easy it was for him to control you like that

And whenever he needed something from a shelf above the counter where you stood, it was an excuse to cage you in, grinding his groin over your bum

Sometimes he’d use the fact he knew you were busy in the kitchen or someplace else on ship to allow himself in to your room

He’d smell your sheets, imagining waking up in them with you

Ruining them with you

He’d never leave your room without a souvenir

His favourite? Your used panties

He’d settle for a washed pair if you didn’t have any used ones but he just loves them used

It’s the closest to your cunt he could get right now

Sanji would spend those nights jerking off with your panties in hand, cumming in to them, thinking about you wearing them after

He once heard you whisper to Nami that you kept losing your underwear. Nami threw a glance at Sanji’s direction, but didn’t voice her suspicions

So Sanji learned to wash them and put them back, and it was actually nicer than keeping them. He liked thinking that you indirectly had his cum on your cunt

Any time Sanji would see you having any type of positive interaction with Zoro, the jealousy would send him up the wall

His frustrations would manifest themselves in extra-intense fighting with Zoro and being a lot less subtle with his perving on you

After he’d have a fight with zoro, he’d go to you for comfort

He liked to hug you from behind, acting upset and in need of your care, but really he just liked how you’d let his hands wander to your breasts

If he felt really bold, he’d let his hands snake under your shirt or your skirt

If you’d try to push him away he’d play up how distressed he was about whatever happened, he knew you have a soft spot for him, that’s why he loves you

He knew what your favourite dessert is and he loves making it for you. He may or may not have cum in the frosting.

He makes you cocktails all the time. He tries to get you inebriated because then you’re much more receptive of him sneaking his way in to your bed.

He knew you wanted him when you were sober, too, you were just shy and needed to be pushed in the right direction

He loves it when you’re drunk – he can kiss you all over, touch you all over, mark you up as his (which was partly for himself, and partly so zoro would finally take the hint)

And being drunk made you so cuddly. Sure, he was hot for you, but he really did love you and just loved having you wrapped around him

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter seven:

➴ warnings: brief mention of smut

➴ word count: 2.4k

➴ author’s note: is the thing people say about rainstorms before rainbows true? i guess it’s time for soph and jack to find out. “happy” reading ♡

FALLING out of love was something you had yet to experience.

Of course, back then you thought you had fallen out of love with Harris, but soon you’d realize that you had never really loved him. It was some kind of strong admiration, a need to have someone to call yours, someone who you could write love songs for, someone who you could imagine yourself getting old with.

‘Course, none of those things happened with Harris, not even during your honeymoon phase. You were young when you started dating him, twenty-one and with no real idea of what love truly was.

So an older actor who thought you were cute?

It felt like you had hit the jackpot.

But now, as you try your hardest to forget what Jack meant— means— to you, you realize that it isn’t as easy as you initially thought it would be.

Jack is everywhere, occupying every corner of your mind. You remember how sweet he’d talk to you after sex, always treating you with kindness and making sure you were well taken care of. How he’d send you memes that were purely about Hockey even if you never understood what was so funny about them, how he’d get excited talking about his job and how he’d try to explain all the terms to you.

Despite what happened, Jack had made you so happy. It was sad to think that it was all probably a joke to him, but for you? No, it was real. So real. Every time you looked at his face, you reminded yourself that some things are not meant to last forever.

But God knew how much you wanted him to be your forever.

Keeping yourself busy was easy, and you were thankful for that. Your small concert, a week ago, filled you with so much joy and contentment— you were alive and not thinking about the middle child of the Hughes family for the first time in seven months.

Grace made sure that you took enough breaks but whenever you were alone with your thoughts for a long time, the first image your brain liked to share with you was Jack’s smile and Jack’s eyes and Jack’s nose and lips.

It was tiring.

You didn’t tell anyone, but you secretly watched his games when you were alone at night. You didn’t know much, but the experts keep saying that this is Hughes’ worst season and that he’s playing like shit, which, unfortunately, made you worry.

But you wouldn’t go back, you couldn’t go back.

Sometimes, at night, you’d remember how he looked at you when you told him you were in love with him. Or how he looked when you told him to leave, so desperate for you to hear him, at least for a few more minutes.

You’d replay that day inside of your head every night, like a nighttime routine, trying to find a different, better ending.

You’d always come up empty.

Sighing, you looked at your phone, reading Grace’s text with a smile.

Grace being Grace.

Even if she technically worked for you, you’ve barely seen Grace the past couple of days. You were both so busy it was almost impossible to keep up with each other’s schedule. But you did manage to free up some space so you could at least have lunch with her, and turns out she thought it’d be cool to include Nico too.

So, lunch at Nico’s house.

You said goodbye to the people who were working with you at the GQ photo shoot and drove to his house, blasting music through your speakers. No thoughts allowed!

You rang the doorbell, waiting until Grace herself opened the door, like she owned the house. You still weren’t sure if you wanted to know what was truly happening between the two of them, so you didn’t ask questions.

“Hi, my little popstar,” Grace shouted, hugging you tightly.

“Stop putting little before every noun when you’re referring to me.” You mumbled, face still shoved in the crook of her neck.

“Why would I do that? It’s fun and true. Come inside, Nico’s ordering pizza!”

You entered the house, feeling your cheeks getting warm when you remembered what happened the last time you were here.

“Shut the fuck up, Sophia,” during sex, he only used your name whenever he was really pissed, and apparently this was one of those times. “Don’t need anyone hearing how much of a whore you actually are.”

“Fuck, uh, come for me, baby, c’mon,” Jack whispered, hands still on you, dick fucking you hard and rough, leaving your insides raw and deliciously hurting. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”

Well. No more of that.

“No— Man, listen. I want a large pepperoni and a large margherita, please,” Nico smiled at you before putting his hand on his head, holding his phone with the other. “Why the hell would I put pineapple on a fucking pepperoni pizza? Let me speak to your manager, that’s— that’s a crime.”

“He’s just a Swiss Karen, really,” Grace sighed, sitting on the couch. You sat next to her, watching as Hischier tried to explain to the manager why pineapples shouldn’t even be included in pizzas in the first place. “I think he’s just nervous about the games.”

“Yeah,” you wanted to tell her that you’ve been watching the games and that it didn’t look really good for them but it would just give your I’m-already-over-Jack facade away. “Must be hard.”

“Tell me about it, I barely see him. It’s like hockey players only exist during the summer or whatever.” She sighed again, fixing her braids. You looked at her, full of compassion.

If you and Jack dated, would you feel like her?

No.

You wouldn’t know the answer to that question because that won’t happen.

“Hi, Soph,” you heard the Devils’ captain say, greeting you.

“Hey there, thirteen. How are you?”

He yawned, stretching his arms. “Tired, stressed, hungry, tired.” He stopped for a second before continuing. “Have I mentioned tired?”

“Sucks to be you, to be honest,” you giggled, looking at him funny.

The pizza would take a while to get delivered— especially since Nico argued with the manager and now they were probably taking their time spitting on the dough— so you used the time to catch up on their lives.

Grace talked about how her marketing degree never prepared her for how much work she’d actually have to get done, and how much she missed her mom and dad, and how Jessica, your vocal coach, was starting to piss her off with her I-am-better-than-everyone attitude.

Nico talked about the games, and how he basically was never at home, and how he’d spend half of his time on planes and the other half on practice and yet he still felt like they weren’t going to make it.

That made you wonder how Jack was doing with all of this. If he had come back to Newark after their week away, to spend thanksgiving with his family.

Not that you cared, you just wondered.

Noticing how both Grace and Nico stayed quiet, you realized that they’re probably waiting for you to update them on your life. You smiled awkwardly.

“I have been working a lot,” you shrugged. “I love what I do so it isn’t exactly working for me. Besides that, I sleep, eat and drink water.”

They both looked at you with pity, which made your stomach ache. You didn’t want anyone pitying you, in fact, you didn’t need it. You weren’t a damsel in distress, you didn’t need to be saved— you just chose to spend your free time alone. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

“I’m gonna go grab some wine from the cellar, be right back,” Nico announced, out of nowhere, getting up and heading downstairs. Grace looked at him with puppy eyes and you laughed.

“People in love are disgusting,” you joked, and Grace rolled her eyes at you.

“Shut it, Twilight,” she laughed, not denying it. “I’m gonna go grab the glasses.”

The doorbell rang and you got up. “It looks like I’m gonna go grab the pizza.”

“Make sure they didn’t put poison in it!” Grace shouted, making her way to the kitchen, while you walked until you were in front of the door, smiling still.

“Sophia?”

Hi, Universe. It’s your girl, Sophia. So, what is this about? What are you trying to do here? Let me tell you now, it won’t work.

“Hum, hi?” It sounded more like a question than a greeting, but out of all things you would have imagined that could happen to you that day, opening the door and finding Jack on the other side of it wasn’t on your list.

“What are you,” he stuttered, clutching hard the bag he was holding in his hands. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I’m sorry.”

You leaned against the door, confusion taking over your face. Jack wasn’t the type of man to apologize so easily.

“It’s fine.”

You both went quiet, staring at each other. It was weird to be around Jack without touching him, your heart still hurting because you love him deeply.

It was the type of love you’d want to tell your children, if you decided to have them one day. The type of love where you’d come home after a long day, just to find your forever sitting on the couch, yapping about his day. The type of love you read in books and watch movies about, the type of love you want to write songs about. The type of love where his hugs feel like a cold, gentle breeze during a sunny day, and his kisses felt like the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You loved Jack Hughes deeply and he wanted him to be your forever more than anything.

But it wouldn’t happen. And it’s fine. It’d be fine.

“Do you want me to call Nico?” You whispered, averting his gaze.

“You don’t need to, I just stopped by to give him this,” he raised the bag in his hands, shrugging.

“Okay…” You nodded, not sure of what to say. “Then, I guess I’m… gonna go. Nice seeing you.” You lied, because you’d much rather keep watching him on TV, with a safe distance between you two, than to face him in real life.

“No, Soph, wait—” he called you, putting his feet between the door gap. “Can we, like, talk?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” You retorted, biting your bottom lip.

“Soph, did they spit on our pizza?” Grace’s voice sounded cheerful behind you, and you cringed, knowing exactly how she’s going to react once she sees Jack here. “I hope they only spitted on Nico’s pizza, to be honest. What are you doing there— Oh.”

You turned around and looked at her, smiling awkwardly. No one moved a muscle for at least ten seconds and you gave in, knowing that discussing things with her would be harder than hearing Jack out.

“I’ll just… I’ll be right back, okay?” You announced, pointing to Jack behind you. “It’s fine.”

“But—”

“It’s fine, Grace. Go find Nico, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to feel any shittier. Grace only stared at Jack for what seemed to be a whole minute before nodding once and making her way to Nico.

“I guess she still hates me.” Jack pointed out, chuckling humorlessly.

You turned around, raising your eyebrows at him. “Can you blame her?”

“No, not really,” he shrugged, putting the bag on the floor and putting his hands inside of his jeans’ pockets. “I get that you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you, I’m not mad at you. Hurt? Maybe. But I knew what I was getting myself into, so I guess I can’t really blame you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying really hard to be the bigger person when all you wanted to do was smash his face into a wall and kiss him right after that.

“I want you to know that I am sorry about what happened,” he stepped closer, making you smell his cologne, sandalwood and something else that smelled a lot like money. Weird combination but it worked for him. “Truly. I didn’t fuck Ava or any other woman while we were together. I— I just wanted to be with you, Soph, I need you to know that.”

You stared at his face, trying so hard to find the same expression you found on your ex’s face whenever he lied and manipulated you. But you couldn’t— Jack was still the same as he was seven months ago, when he hit on you at that dinner party.

He still looked like the guy who held you close after sex, the guy who order take out for you just because he knew you’d get too tired to cook for yourself, the guy who had a playlist just for his favorite songs by you, the guy who never understood your chronically online memes but laughed nonetheless because he said the way you laugh is funnier than the joke itself.

Jack still looked like he could be your forever.

So close yet so fucking distant.

You could feel yourself slipping into him again and you knew you couldn’t do this with yourself. You had to choose yourself before choosing anyone else.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” you whispered, smiling softly. “It’s fine. As you said, we weren’t even dating. I bet you wouldn’t have reacted the way I did if it’d been the other way around.”

He looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would’ve gone crazy if it was the other way around. Sophia, I know it’s hard to believe but—”

“It’s fine, Jack, it really is,” you stated, shaking your head. “I accept your apologies but I think—” you broke eye contact, stepping back. “I think it’s just best if we stay out of each other’s way.”

You couldn’t tell which one of you cracked first. Jack, who looked at you like he’d seen a ghost, let his shoulders fall, looking as dejected as ever. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes but you held on tight. You had already cried in front of him once, and you weren’t going to do that again.

“Soph,” you heard his voice, so soft and so unlike him. “Soph, you don’t… you don’t mean that, baby.”

“I do,” you looked up, squeezing your eyes shut. “I do, Jack. And it will be fine. Let’s just move on.”

“Soph…”

“Please,” you whispered, already stepping back into the house, hands on the handle. “Jack. Please.”

You finally looked at him, noticing how his eyes looked so blue and sad. He stared at you before shaking his head, once and then twice, stepping back.

“I’m so sorry, Soph.” He said softly, before leaving Nico’s porch and making his way to his car.

“I know you are, baby,” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall. “I am, too.”

“Hum… pizza for Nico Hischier?”

Great.

[moonstruckme]

Hi! Could I request a plus size!reader with James? Maybe where she gets upset because she can’t wear his clothes and she can’t do cute little girlfriend things like him picking her up and stuff like that?

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: size insecurity

modern au ig because new girl

James Potter x plus size!reader ♡ 956 words

“I’m kind of thinking of jumping back to season four,” you call towards the bedroom. “Jess is about to leave for jury duty, and I don’t like those episodes as much.” 

“Pretty sure you’ve got them all memorized anyway,” James says back. “Why don’t we just watch Friends instead?” 

Your mouth twists even though he can’t see it, but luckily, the feeling behind the expression carries in your voice anyway. “Because it’s not as good.” 

“Okay.” James rolls his eyes lightly as he emerges from your bedroom, now clad in pajamas to match you. “We can do New Girl again, but I need my pillow, please.” 

You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance as you uncurl your legs from underneath you and prop your feet on the coffee table. James hurries over, sprawling out on the couch and settling his head on the cushion of your thighs. He’s due for a haircut. His thick curls spread out around him like the sun’s rays. He smiles up at you, dopey, and you tamp down a grin as you start the episode. 

Not ten minutes in, there’s a flashback about when one character was in college. Bigger, dorkier, romantically inept. It’s played for a laugh. You glance down at James. He’s wormed a hand under your leg and is kneading the fat there like putty. It’s an absentminded gesture, nothing critical about it, but you wonder if he’s correlating you with the actor on screen, bumbling and the butt of the joke in his fatsuit. 

You comb a hand through James’ hair, and he looks up, catches you watching him. He’s never been one to mind being observed. He shoots you a smile, catching your hand with his other and pressing it to his lips. 

You smile back. “Do you ever wish you had a skinny girlfriend?” you ask him. 

If he’s surprised by the abruptness of the question, he doesn’t show it. “Nope,” he answers. “Never. What would I do for a pillow?” 

You consciously keep your smile in place, fixing your eyes back on the screen. The one character is telling the story of how embarrassing it was to lose his virginity. Like sex was borderline impossible, just because he was chubby. 

You feel James’ head shift on your legs, and look down to find he’s turned towards you. “We manage just fine,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

You exhale amusedly through your nose. “Yeah? I don’t near crush you every time?” 

“It’s really cute that you think you could, lovie.” 

You roll your eyes, letting them land on the TV. “Sometimes I wish I could do more…quintessential girlfriend stuff.” You can feel James’ eyes on you, but he keeps quiet. “Like when girls steal their boyfriend’s hoodies and stuff.” 

You look down, and James’ eyebrows have lowered slightly. “You could borrow my hoodies if you wanted to,” he says. “Angel, you know I think you’re the perfect size, don’t you? Do I not tell you that enough?” 

You give him a little smile, shoulders coming up bashfully. (He does. He makes little comments all day long—how pretty you look, how he loves your thighs, how soft and warm you are when you’re cuddling, how lovely and squishable your ass is in his hands.) “It’s not you,” you say, “it’s just hard not to think about those girls who, like, drown in their boyfriends’ clothes, you know? And your stuff fits almost tight on me.” 

James looks at you considerately, nodding. You and he aren’t vastly different sizes, with James’ bulky frame and wide shoulders. You just…he treats you like you’re precious, but sometimes you wish you looked precious standing next to him, too. You wish he could pick you up with one arm or make jokes about you being tiny like a chihuahua or whatever else it is the boyfriends of petite girls do. 

“I realize this is rather selfish,” James says, “but I actually quite enjoy that I’m able to borrow your clothes from time to time.” He glances pointedly down at his shirt, which you now realize has been pilfered from your wardrobe. “And if it’s baggy clothes you’re looking for, I could always get a couple loose-fitting hoodies, wear them around and get ‘em all smelled up, and then pass them on to you.” You must look about as lovesick as you feel, because his smile returns, brown eyes sweetly knowing. “Does that sound like something you’d like?”

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip to keep from beaming too embarrassingly. “Yes, please. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Course.” He gives your thigh a hearty squeeze, turning his head to press a wet smooch to your skin. “You know, those other girls are missing out on things, too,” he says. “I doubt their boyfriends spend so much time lounging on them, and I know how much you love it when I make your legs fall asleep.” 

You snicker. “You’re right, I do love that.” 

James’ smile spreads wider at your response. “I know you do, lovie. All for you, of course. Also, I know it’s not a hoodie, but I have that one red jumper that’s pretty big on me. You know the one?” 

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You sit up straighter. “I totally forgot about that. Could I use it?” 

“What’s mine is yours.” 

“Thanks.” You scoot out from under him, and James sits up, upset. 

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going? I was comfy!” 

“To change,” you call back from halfway down the hall. 

“Never change, angel!” You roll your eyes at the stupid joke, grinning to yourself. “I love you just the way you are!” 

[aayakashii]

routine

Pairing: Kagami Subaru x MC/reader

Tags: SFW. Character analysis, a bit of angst, hurt x comfort (I think), fluff and romance between you and Subaru, over 6k words

Author's note: this is probably the biggest fic I've written lol and I'm kinda proud of how it came out, since it also took me some days to fully flesh it out. I'd appreciate comments if you liked the fic! Comments literally keep every writers alive. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Kabuki Glossary:

Biwa: Japanese short-necked wooden flute traditionally used in narrative storytelling

Geza: the music that plays during kabuki, performed live

Hanamichi: flower path; a long, raised platform, running left or center to the stage through the audience, connecting to the main stage, used to make dramatic entrances and exits

Mie pose: a powerful and emotional pose struck by an actor

Onnagata: actor who acts the role of a young woman 

Sewamono:  a genre of contemporary setting plays in Japanese traditional theatre

Shamisen: three-stringed traditional Japanese musical instrument

Tachiyaku: young adult male roles, the actors who play those roles; most commonly these are hero roles, though not all of them

Takemoto: a specific type of song, it is also the narration device used during a kabuki play. It consists of a chanter/narrator (tayu) and the shamisen players

Subaru had become used to it.

You would come to visit him right after your classes, if you weren’t assigned a mission, and Subaru would welcome you with tea and some obscure sweet he managed to get, just to let you try it. You two would talk, and you would share stories about your friends in the Academy, how your life was before you became cursed, and he would tell his own stories, even if he thought they weren’t nearly as interesting as yours.

It gave him a sense of belonging.

Subaru hadn't had much experience with friendships or any interpersonal relationship at all.

His life was merely the background for his career as an actor. His bare skin was merely the foundational bricks for the red and white makeup that would adorn him once he was out on the stage.

When he was under the spotlight, his monotone voice resounded loudly – louder than the drums, louder than the shamisen, louder than the biwa. Subaru became gigantic under his costume. His movements were sharp and hypnotic, the flow of his kimono as he walked down the hanamichi and the pierce of his gaze turned all heads towards him. He was a genius, a talent like no other, the future of the kabuki theater.

And he did not see himself in any of it.

Here lies the true tragedy of a burned out genius child: to go under insurmountable levels of pressure, only to find that the dreams of your parents were never your own.

Subaru did not want to be under the spotlight, no matter how much the spotlight wanted him and no matter how much others wanted him to be under it.

As he was forced to keep walking the flower path, his chances of living life as a normal kid were gone: he had no friends, no acquaintances, nothing that helped him find out who he was for himself.

So, he had no experience.

But he knew that he could pick out the feeling of belonging somewhere after spending time with you.

Eagerly, he waited for the clock to reach 5PM everyday, knowing that you would come through his door to spend time with him.

Routine was always something he appreciated, anxious as he was. He didn't like surprises, he wanted things to be predictable, to give him even the slightest sense of control over his new life as a student.

Therefore, to know that you would come to visit everyday, at the exact same time, was his comfort – even if the thought of you made his heart skip a beat, although he didn't quite understand why.

Not even standing behind the greatest stages made his heart drum loudly after a while. As the green, red and brown curtains of the stage were pulled, his body went on automatic. The takemoto went through his ears, unnoticed, and the geza became white noise. He moved gracefully, although his mind flew into other planes. As the audience clapped enthusiastically as he stood in his mie pose, Subaru wished he was somewhere else. He felt extremely guilty for not being able to appreciate the hard work of the musicians and the actors, but after he figured out that the passion he thought he had was merely a reflection of his parents’ passion, everything became black, white and gray.

Yet, planning fancy snacks for you made his hands clammy and his heart restless – and it wasn't the most comfortable feeling, however, he didn't hate it. He knew you'd come through with the routine and wash his anxieties away.

However, much to his dismay, his comfort had been ripped off of him for the past three days. His precious routine had been broken and Subaru would be lying if he said he wasn't counting the hours, the minutes and the seconds until it was restored, somehow.

He just had no idea how to fix it.

You had been fiercely avoiding him for three days, ever since the last meeting was cut short, and he blamed himself for hurting you in the worst way he could have ever done it.

Subaru has always had awful self-esteem.

No matter the compliments about his genius, none of them stuck to him. When you despise what you do, being good at it just brings forth more bitterness towards oneself.

Subaru was a rarity in the kabuki world – someone who could represent a captivating tachiyaku or the most elegant onnagata. He could be the hero or the princess, something that most actors could not do. To don the costumes of two genders was the cause of endless praise and awe from the audience and members of his acting house alike – none of which he accepted.

To him, his talent came as second nature. There was no need to hone his skills – they were already there, much like an additional organ he was born with – and he loathed that fact. He loathed how this pushed him towards a world in which he didn't want to participate. 

He truly valued the hard work he was now putting into his studies, something he was creating with his own hands. He could see his own growth and pat himself on the back for it – even if he still had a hard time accepting compliments (he knew the only reason he was the captain of Hotarubi was due to his status, after all. He was just a figurehead).

Subaru’s stigma was an even bigger burden towards his path of bettering himself. 

If he hated being an actor, he hated himself even more for his powers. Much like his talent, he did not ask to be bestowed with such a repugnant stigma. It was the reason why his parents would never touch him, never hold him. He was a walking breach of privacy, a dangerous little thing that could easily become a weapon, if the truth of his stigma was found out. He was untouchable in every way, figuratively and literally.

He truly couldn't understand how Lyca, Zenji, Haku and you were so quick to accept his ugliness. 

“You aren’t disgusting, something like this could never be your fault”, you had said, when he wallowed in self-pity after revealing his secret. But to step out of his cycle of self-hatred was a tough task.

Your visits helped, however. For the first time in his young life, someone saw him as himself and stayed. 

Haku and Zenji were his true friends, but they still saw him through the lens of that one genius kabuki actor. And Lyca… he was alone and desperate.

You, however, had the ghouls of Darkwick Academy wrapped in your little finger and, still, you chose him. Despite his social awkwardness, his anxieties, his anger, his stigma. You chose him whenever it was time to get lunch, when you could be resting, when you could have anyone else. The thought of it made his heart skip a beat again. He was sensing a slight pattern.

Yet, it had been three days, and you were gone. No messages, no visits, no news.

He understood your avoidance despite it all. He had committed the worst sin he could have done to his dearest friend.

He had touched you.

You had come to Hotarubi at your usual time, 5PM, sharp. Your hair was disheveled and a few droplets of water stained the tatami of the tea room as they fell from your face and hands, while you hurriedly took off your shoes.

“I’m so sorry for making a mess, Subaru! I had to run here to arrive on time and ended up forgetting my umbrella… I had to walk under every cover I could find, but I still ended up being sprayed by the rain.” you said, as you stood at the entrance, shaking your body as if you were trying to get rid of the excess water.

Subaru shot up from his spot, his face contorted in worry.

“Oh no, please don’t do that!” he said, as he ran to quickly rummage through the drawers of the room for towels “You always have to use an umbrella when you come to Hotarubi, what if you get a cold?”

You grabbed the towel he gave you, smiling awkwardly.

“I know, I know. I just didn’t want to arrive late. I didn’t want you to get anxious.”

Subaru blinked, face blank, as he was caught off guard by your answer.

“You… you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not that anxious.” 

You laughed, and he felt his breath hitch on his throat.

“Suuure, and I don’t breathe oxygen…” you said jokingly, hanging the towel on a nearby hanger after you finished patting your face and arms dry, giggling as you noticed the way he was pouting slightly. “I’m just playing with you! I’m sorry.”

“No no, I’m sorry about worrying you to the point of you having to hurry…”

You rolled your eyes and raised your hands to put them on his shoulder, quickly stopping yourself before you could actually touch him, resting them on your hips instead.

“Subaru. You don’t have to apologize for something like that. I am doing this because I care about your well-being. You're my friend and I want you to be okay. It’s not something to feel apologetic for. Instead, you can just thank me for being a great friend.” you winked and he immediately looked away from your face, that was too bright for him to stare at.

“O… okay… Thank you.” Subaru murmured, forcing himself to look at you again, from under his lashes, a small smile adorning his features.

“You’re very welcome.” you nodded “Now let’s drink some tea please, I do need something hot to warm myself!”

“That’s true, let’s get you warm so you won’t get a cold, please.”

Soon, time slowed down as you two sat and chatted about everything and nothing at all. You talked about how weird Darkwick's shopkeeper is, how awfully crowded the dining hall is (Subaru avoided it like the plague), how scary Professor Hyde can be sometimes, how loud Kaito and Luca are, how cute are the little cats running around all day…

How funny it is that you two always met for lunch in a place where only romantic couples hung out, you mentioned in passing, almost mumbling to yourself like you didn’t want to be heard.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Subaru asked, already looking apologetic, hearing you despite your low voice.

“No, no” you were quick to dismiss his concern “It’s, um, I don’t know... Doesn’t it make you a little nervous?” you said, laughing sheepishly, a foreign blush warming the tips of your ears, which went unnoticed by him.

“You get nervous when we’re there? We can eat somewhere else, you don't have to stay in a place you dislike just to appease me…” Subaru muttered, frowning “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice that it was making you uncomfortable…”

“No, no, no” you shook your head vigorously “That’s not what I meant at all! I… I don’t think I can explain it to you just yet. I don’t think I’m… ready, or… whatever, I don’t know…” you trailed off, incoherently.

“Ready? I’m sorry, I don't understand.”

“It’s okay” you flashed him a smile and grabbed one of the kimono catalogs that were littering his table, fidgeting with it, mindlessly “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just keep eating there, okay? Promise we’ll keep eating there?”

“But I want to understand what you mean- oh!” Subaru cut himself off as he saw a thick sheet of paper cut your thumb while you flipped it anxiously “Your thumb…”

You looked at the small cut that was letting out a single droplet of blood and shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t even notice… it’s okay, I’ll put a bandaid over it later. Wait, Subaru? Wait… wait, no!”

The boy didn’t quite register his own movements, as his hand went to grab your bleeding one, gently grasping your pulse with his soft fingers, running his own thumb over your cut, as if his touch could heal you faster. 

His hands were bare.

You inhaled sharply and, instantly, it all flashed into his mind in quick succession. Like a large wave overwhelming an inexperienced swimmer, he was pushed down into the deep waters of those memories, causing him to gasp, breathless.

Subaru was swarmed by visions of himself in every possible situation. He saw how your gaze followed him when you spotted him from a distance in the campus; how you searched for him in the crowd of students during lunch time, on the tranquil balcony in which you two have shared your food together plenty of times before; and how you turned your head around whenever you heard someone mention his name in passing.

He had glimpses of the way his hands moved while making tea; his profile as he smiled gently when he tried explaining your homework to you; and his own eyes softening as he talked about Lyca. In your eyes, he looked magical. Ethereal, even. Someone who deserved to be admired, loved, praised and he knew these were your own emotions being whispered so subtly to him.

Subaru saw himself in a way the mirror had never reflected back to him. He discovered parts of his being that he wasn't able to find out for himself, because they would only come to the surface when he was with you.

In his mind's eye, right then, Subaru laughed, loud and breathless, as he clutched his stomach – all the restraint he built through his lifetime, gone through the window, after you had merely told him some silly joke. The way he brightened with your words, making your heart beat in a terrifying, yet delightful way, made your breath catch on your throat.

And much like a dying man seeing his whole life flash through his eyes, he arrived back to the present and saw himself, staring wide-eyed at his own hand tightly gripping yours.

He blinked, and his consciousness came back to him.

Subaru, like usual, felt incredibly weak after using his stigma, yet he still quickly turned his gaze towards you, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a fish, unable to say a word.

Your face was beet red and your eyes were blankly staring at your own lap, lips pursed into a thin line and eyebrows furrowed. Your free hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles pale with the force in which you dug your own nails into your palm.

“I…” Subaru murmured, trying his best to weave a coherent thought.

You got up quickly, breaking the hold Subaru had onto your arm, and grabbed your things in a hurry.

“I think- I think I should go.” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat harshly “Thank you so much for the snacks and tea, they were delicious like always” you blurted out, quickly making your way to his door.

“Wait, no, I- I'm sorry, I-” Subaru held his hand out, as if he tried to reach you but you were too far away, oceans of distance between you two.

“There's nothing to apologize for!” You said, way too cheerfully for him to believe you “I just gotta go now. I have… I gotta go. Yeah. See you soon, Subaru.” you stepped out into the rain and soon disappeared into the mist that surrounded Hotarubi, not waiting for whatever he tried to say.

Subaru stared at his own hands. The little droplet of your blood stained his fingertip, and he took a deep, shaky breath.

He had betrayed you. He had seen your innermost memories without your consent and now you were mad at him. He had to apologize. He had to beg for your forgiveness, until you took pity on him and allowed him to be your friend once again. 

Falling into a deeper pit of self-hatred was hard, but he tried to keep it together, for you. He needed to be lucid in order to beg for your pardon once you came back to visit him. He just hoped it would be soon.

But you did not see him soon at all.

“I don't think they're mad at you for seeing their memories, it’s not really like them. But maybe they're embarrassed?” Haku pondered, taking a bite of the mochi Subaru had set out for you out of pure habit.

“No” he shook his head, adamant “They wouldn't simply disappear if it was just that. I don’t believe that. I have done something that made them angry at me. I saw something I definitely shouldn't have seen.”

It was the fifth day of you avoiding Subaru and he was hanging on by the thinnest thread. He was so close to snapping that it was becoming clear to the other Hotarubi students. And so, Haku and Zenji came to intervene.

“Well... I can't really give you my proper opinion if I don't know what you saw.” Haku said bluntly, making Subaru flinch.

“I can't tell you. I would be breaching their trust again. That’s the last thing I need to do right now.”

“You are absolutely correct, my dear friend!” Zenji remarked “However, we can’t possibly figure out the true essence of your situation if you can't tell us the whole entire story! How can we write an ending without knowing the beginning and the middle of the plot?”

“I don’t know…” Subaru murmured, looking more miserable with each second.

Haku sighed loudly, shifting his legs on the seat.

“Subaru. We don't want to gossip. We just want to know the situation better. We are their friends as well, you know?” he smirked “We can help you figure out their emotions. If anything, you might feel better after venting. How’s that phrase? A burden shared…”

“Is a burden halved!” Zenji finished, boisterously.

A pang resounded in Subaru's heart at how his friends were doing their best to help him.

“O…okay. I'll tell you”

After finishing recounting the last day he saw you, Subaru sighed loudly.

“Well?”

After a moment of silence, Zenji exclaimed loudly, startling the other two.

“Oh!! The spring begins!!” he yelled, one hand on his chest as the other went up in the air “How lovely it is to see young buds bloom into perfect flowers!!”

Haku slowly nodded at Zenji’s words and chuckled, rubbing his own face in disbelief while he noticed how absolutely perplexed and confused Subaru still was.

“I see now…”

“What?” the brown-haired boy fidgeted, almost desperate to grab Haku and Zenji and shake them by their shoulders “What's going on?”

The other boys looked at each other, before turning back to him. 

“Subaru, I don’t want to beat around the bush so I’m just gonna say it straight away. They're like… very much in love with you.”

He blinked slowly, as if the words were entering his brain at a snail’s pace.

“What?” was all he managed to utter.

“Yes, my friend! Our lovely flower seems to be completely smitten by you!”

“No” Subaru shook his head “That can't be. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Man, if there’s one thing that makes sense in the world, is what we’re telling you right now” Haku said, while laughing “Specially after everything you said you saw. You just… saw their feelings when they weren't ready to tell you yet, so I bet it feels embarrassing. It's probably eating them alive right now. That’s why they’re not visiting.”

Subaru stared at his own lap, his mind not properly processing the depth of the situation – the word “Love” bouncing in his brain like a lost temari.

“Then…” he whispered, throat hoarse “What should I do now?”

“What do you feel for our little flower, my friend? Do you correspond to their feelings? Do you love them back?” Zenji worded gently, as if he was talking to a scared wild animal.

“Do I love them back…” 

Haku nudged Zenji, motioning for both of them to get up and leave Subaru for the moment.

“Figure that out first. If you do, go after them and tell them you correspond to their feelings. If not, just let them deal with it on their own. Also, if you don’t like them back, don’t ask for them to come visit you again like nothing ever happened. You’d just be rubbing salt on their wounds.”

“How do I figure that out though?” Subaru looked up at the two men as they leisurely walked outside of his room, eyes already brimming with tears.

“You're a smart guy. You'll figure that out by yourself.” Haku winked at him and both him and Zenji slipped away, leaving Subaru at a loss.

Subaru did his due diligence the only way he knew how: by studying. He started reading romance mangas and watching romance movies. It was the type of media his family would never approve of, as they deemed it unworthy of someone refined like him.

Still, despite him thinking that that “forbidden knowledge” would give him all the answers, it still led him nowhere.

He wasn’t like any male lead from these works. He could never run after someone in an airport and yell their name, begging them to stay and forgo all of their life plans. Subaru wasn’t like that. He couldn't run, couldn't yell and could never see himself as more important than anything.

His self-esteem wasn’t nearly as good as what was necessary for him to feel even the slightest kinship towards the strong, bold male leads, who always had something impressive to show – something that made them who they are, even if they had failures in their personalities.

Subaru could say he had his career as a Kabuki actor as something impressive, but again, it wasn’t him. Kabuki was a part of him, yes, but he wanted to shed it like a cocoon.

Despite that, he thought, then, of all the romantic plays he had performed.

He remembered the pain of most love stories, the tragic end of most sewamono plays he performed and he felt the thorns of grief strangle his chest, tightly.

He remembered the star crossed lovers who could never be together, the man who was promised to someone else and couldn’t be with his beloved, and the woman who had her life binded to a place that would never let her be with the one she desired the most.

All of them, lovers who could never be together, so they chose to erase their own light, because being without one another was more painful than dying together.

Subaru thought about not having you in his life for a moment and he figured: maybe not having you was its own type of death. A life without his most beloved friend felt like an empty one. A loveless one.

He paused.

Love. He thought of this word so candidly, it came to his mind without conscious thought – like it was second nature, like it was the obvious conclusion. And so, he decided to allow his thoughts to flow naturally, without pressure or expectations for once.

He thought of the way he searched for your gaze whenever you two were in public, seeking your comfort and approval. 

His heart skipped a beat whenever he glanced at you and you found his eyes, smiling silently at him, as if you two had a secret inside joke. 

His chest swelled with pride whenever you agreed with him (it didn’t matter the subject) and he almost felt like he could burst with it whenever you thanked him for his help studying, or when you praised him, or when you giggled at something he said.

Subaru cared for your tastes and opinions, always asking for your favorite foods, flowers, scents and colors. He made sure to smother you in your favorite things, in order to keep you more comfortable – in order to keep you with him just a little longer everyday.

His thoughts wandered over to you at any given moment and he didn't even notice. He'd question himself whether you'd like something, which sweets he could order for you, which teas he could brew.

Without noticing, he based his life around you and it felt absolutely right when he did that. It felt like belonging somewhere.

Subaru inhaled sharply.

The place in which he belongs is wherever you are, he figured.

Subaru hastily got up and bolted out of his room, out of Hotarubi and into Darkwick's campus, where the rain was pouring heavily, accumulating around the lamp posts and pitter-pattering loudly on the asphalt. His clothes were drenched in mere seconds.

He had forgotten his umbrella.

Subaru banged as loud as he could on the door of the rundown cathedral, trying to blink away the raindrops that stuck to his eyelashes and blurred his vision. He could barely see through the heavy rain anyway, so he missed the lights on the windows flickering on and your shadow hurriedly descending the stairs to walk towards the tall doors.

“Subaru?!” you yelled through the sounds of the storm, his hands still raised in fists, ready to keep on banging at the door. “Oh my goodness, Subaru, you’re drenched!”

You pulled him by his uniform’s sleeve, doing your best to avoid touching him without his consent. ‘Always so thoughtful’ he thought to himself, feeling a little floaty after finally seeing you after a whole week.

With his realization, the dam that was keeping his feelings for you safely contained inside a hidden part of himself was no more.

Subaru acknowledged that he was madly in love with you and he immediately began feeling foolish. His fingers itched to touch you despite his fears and he could look at you for hours on end, drinking every detail and every mannerism.

It was like admitting his love was also letting go of his self control. He felt like something inside him nudged him to be as close to you as possible and it flustered him.

No wonder the movies and mangas said that being in love made people a bit sillier, a bit dumber. But the extent of it was almost ridiculous.

He followed you like a lost puppy when you motioned for him to come with you, and soon you two found yourselves in the kitchen.

“Okay” you let out a loud exhale “This is the warmest place in this dorm. You’re lucky I was already making myself some tea. Also, I’m gonna bring some towels and a change of clothes for you, although I might not have something that’s your size. Geez, Subaru, what were you thinking, walking all the way here in this storm? And this late? Without an umbrella!” you rambled on and on, pouring boiling water into a mug for him to drink and dipping a tea bag inside, carelessly.

Subaru grabbed the warm mug and looked at you, with saddened eyes that felt like an arrow through your heart.

“I missed you.”

You took a long breath as you heard the words coming out of his lips, and stared at him, dumbfounded, like he had suddenly grown a second head. You were about to reply, when Subaru shivered intensely despite the warmth of the kitchen, and you came back to your senses, walking briskly towards your room, in order to fetch the towels, leaving his words unanswered.

Subaru sipped on the tea, suddenly every insecurity bubbling up to the surface while he waited for you to return. What if he totally misunderstood your memories? What if you just loved him as a friend and nothing else, what if Haku and Zenji were totally wrong, what if what if what if-

The sound of your hurried footsteps interrupted the avalanche of thoughts that were most definitely about to bury him under a panic attack. He focused on your silhouette approaching him with a handful of towels and what appeared to be a big nightgown.

“Okay, let's get you near the stove.” You said, beckoning him to sit where you were standing.

As soon as he sat down again, you covered his head with a towel and began drying him up as best as you could. Subaru focused on the feeling of the soft fabric rubbing against his head, and then his neck and his arms.

“I'm gonna turn around and close my eyes. Meanwhile, please try to dry yourself properly and then put on this nightgown I found, okay?” you said, quickly turning around on your feet, not waiting for his input.

Subaru stared at your back for a moment, and began doing as he was told – the thoughts that were plaguing him calming down and silencing on your presence, as if you were a protective charm. His protective charm.

“I'm done” he muttered, hair still dripping, but mostly dry when it came to his whole body.

You sighed, looking at his wet mop of hair and began drying him again, in silence.

“I’m sorry for touching you” Subaru was the one who first broke the comfortable stillness between you two. 

“You know I’m not mad at you because of that, right?” you replied.

“You disappeared” he stares at you, the hurt in his eyes clear as spring water.

“I know, and I'm…” a beat passes by, longer than it actually was “I apologize. I know running away isn't the best approach, but that was all I came up with.”

Subaru stayed silent, as if he was waiting for you to complete your answer.

“It's just… I can imagine what you saw and I wasn't ready to discuss it yet.” you finished, shoulders slumping after you finish drying his hair.

Subaru moved a few strands of his brown hair away from his eyes.

“What do you think I saw?”

You glared at him, cocking an eyebrow at the question that sounded way too much like a tease.

“I don't think you’re in a position to ask questions like that, are you?” you replied, unintentionally snappy.

“Oh, I'm sorry… it truly wasn't my intention”

But it was Subaru that was standing before you, not anyone else. Truthfully, you knew he would never in a million lifetimes think of teasing you on purpose. It was one of the reasons why you ended up so lost in your feelings for him.

You sighed, more in frustration with yourself than anything else.

“I know, I’m just… Look, Subaru… I'm sorry too.”

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows, but in confusion.

“For what?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes even though you were standing so close to his sitting form that his whole presence overwhelmed you. 

“For putting this burden on you. I know you saw my… like…”

He waited yet again for you to finish.

“I know you saw my feelings for you.”

Subaru could immediately feel a warmth spread through his chest, cheeks and ears at your words. So he wasn't mistaken? So you liked him back? Truly?

“But I didn't want to burden you with them.”

The smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips suddenly dissolved into nothing.

“B-burden me?”

You pursed your lips, transferring your weight between your legs, back and forth, back and forth, anxiety clear on your face as you thought of how you could tell him what was on your mind.

“I didn't want to ruin what we have, I think? But there's no point in hiding now, right?” You chuckled nervously “I mean, you already know, but I really like you, Subaru. If I ruined our friendship because I got too greedy, I think I wouldn't be able to handle it.”

You looked at him, eyes swirling with emotion and, for a second, Subaru thought this could all be a dream – the only thing that confirmed otherwise being the uncomfortable chill of his body, a sign of a fever approaching.

“Everything you do… every interaction we have, I just get more and more in love” you cringed at how emotional your own words sounded “But I am so scared of your rejection. I think in part I was hoping you'd forget about that incident during my time away from you. I didn’t imagine you’d come after me.”

Subaru's heart beat drummed loudly and fast inside his chest, although he tried to keep it hidden (his face betrayed him, however).

“Did you think of me while you were away?” He managed to mutter.

“Are you kidding me?” you laughed, breathlessly “You were all I thought about this whole week.”

His ears burned red.

“I… thought about you all the time too.” he mumbled, gaze fixed on his own hands.

“What?”

He took a sharp breath and steadied himself, training his eyes on you as he spoke his next words.

“I'm so… I'm so sorry I'm not good with emotions and I'm sorry that it took me a whole week to understand things when I could have relieved you of this earlier but… I figured it out. I finally did.”

“Figured out what?” you tilted your head to the side and his chest warmed once again at the effortlessly cute gesture, giving him even more certainty to keep saying what he had to say.

“I like… no… I love you too.” he watched the way your eyes widened and darted all over his face, as if to search for a sign of truth behind his words.

“I am so blind and afraid of other people that it took me that long” he proceeded “But I know now. I.. I really do love you and I don't want to be away from you any longer. You don't have to stay away anymore. So please.” He got up from his seat and took a small step towards you “Please don't leave me behind like that anymore.”

You shook your head, tears welling up on your eyes, his intensity squeezing your lungs until you thought you could die, breathless, his eyes stealing every ounce of air from you.

“Subaru… Please… please don't tell me you're doing this to appease me.”

He paused.

The thought of you not believing in his words tugged a little at his heartstrings, but he also couldn't blame you. Not when he was so unsure of all of his feelings on a daily basis, towards everyone and everything, and you were the main witness of the way he clumsily stumbled his way into understanding himself.

He was absolutely sure of this, though.

“I'm not.” he said, voice steady as he looked at you.

“Because if you're saying this just because you want to keep me close, I would never be able to forgive you.” You looked away from him, pain over this imaginary scenario clouding your face. It was the time for him to extinguish your anxieties and insecurities for once.

“I'm not.” He took a step closer towards you.

“Please… don’t try to please me if you don't truly feel the same way.” You shut your eyes tightly, throat clenching as you felt the tears threaten to fall.

“Look at me.” He pleaded, and you hesitantly complied, breath hitching on your throat when you noticed how close he was standing to you “I promise you. I'm not.”

Subaru leaned forward, capturing your lips into a quick, chaste kiss, a fire burning on his cheeks at his own boldness.

He was still afraid of his stigma and how it would work with the other parts of his body besides his hands, but once he noticed he was still grounded in reality and not locked in another memory of yours, he got a bit bolder once again, and kissed you for just a little longer, lips melding together just a little more. The softness of your kiss made him sigh and his heartbeat deafened his ears. 

He tentatively rested his forehead on yours once the innocent kiss was broken.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth you radiated while he stood near you. Both of you had beet red faces and your minds were hazy, as if they were made of clouds.

You were the first to come back to reality and giggle at how overwhelmed both of you were with just a little kiss.

Slowly, hesitantly, your hand came up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your touch like a cat.

“The stigma?” you whispered

“Not activated”

“Good.”

Your other hand came up to run your fingers through his hair, on his nose, on his chin. 

“Do you believe me now?” Subaru asked, wholeheartedly.

“Maybe, I think I'm going to need a few more kisses to fully believe you.” you smiled, teasing him a little bit.

“Really?” He leaned away to look at your eyes, still a bit worried he hadn’t convinced you yet.

“No” you snorted “I'm just joking.”

“Oh I see… sorry I didn't get it right away” he furrowed his brows, apologetically.

“I don't mind getting more kisses though!” you squeezed his shoulders, reassuring.

Subaru chuckled, still a bit flustered at your proximity. Suddenly, however, he scrunched his nose and stepped backwards.

“Subaru?”

“Oh. Oh, I think I'm gonna–” Subaru quickly turned around and sneezed into the towel that still hung on his shoulders “Oh-oh. I think I'm getting a bit sick.” he said, nasally, nose dripping a little bit as he sniffed loudly, back still turned towards you.

You fretted, hovering all around him as you scolded the poor boy.

“See! What did I tell you!” You quickly placed your hand on his forehead and gasped “Let's get you to bed right now, Subaru. You're already feverish!”

You pulled him quickly towards your room, hearing his wheezes as both of you climbed the stairs that led to your quarters.

“But I don't regret what I did” he stifled another sneeze “I needed to talk to you.”

You blushed, opening the door to your room, and glared at him.

“And now you're sick…”

You two climbed the stairs to your lofted bed and you pulled the covers, motioning for him to lay down.

He sat on your bed and looked at you, puppy eyes blinking his allergy tears away.

“But… it kinda looked like a movie thing, didn't it…?” he said, sheepishly.

You pushed him towards your pillows and covered him thoroughly, pouting a bit.

“I think it did…” you stared at the giddy smile that tugged on his lips and sighed, shaking your head.

“I'm going to be down there” you pointed to the bottom of your room “So if you need anything, I'll be here. I'll just grab you some water and medicine and come back quickly, okay?”

You got up, but as you began to leave, Subaru held your hand. His eyes were already droopy, the events of the day getting to him, along with the cold that was quickly racking his body.

“Are you going to start visiting me again?” he asked quietly.

You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at his sleepy face, the question making you fall even deeper in love with the adorable boy in front of you, if that could be even possible.

You nodded.

“Everyday, for as long as you want me near you.” you said quietly as well.

He shifted on the bed, snuggling closer to the blankets, and closed his eyes, letting sleep wash over him.

“Forever, then.” he mumbled, and, soon afterwards, began snoring softly.

[tangerinesgf]

Loved your first Tom Ryder fic!!!

For a request I was thinking maybe something where he's supposed shooting a movie and everybody's looking for him trying to find him and he's off somewhere on set having sex with his girlfriend. They get caught and you can decide how it goes from there :) (if you're interested in writing it of course 🥰)

Tom Ryder x FEM!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, P in V sex, slight dirty talk, fluff, getting caught

A/N: Thank you so much for your request I absolutely loved it!! I hope you love it too! In my mind Tom Ryder is a total sub, so I tried to play with that a little bit, but I have more idea in that regard.

It was no unusual occurrence to find Tom Ryder missing from set. In fact it had become quite predictable and most of all frustrating for the people who were working with him. He is the movie star after all, the main character, without him there is no movie. 

Usually he would be found either daydrinking or in his trailer with the excuse of not being in the right mood to film the scenes that day. He had to be in the right headspace to portray his character. You see Tom Ryder was the world famous actor, in his eyes everyone had to accomodate to him and not the other way around.

Yet this time it was neither one of those things.

So while everyone was worrying about the disappearing daylight on set, that was the last thing on Tom’s mind while pushing you up against one of the huge fake rocks on set. It was one of the few days where you could actually be with him on set and he’d be damned if he was gonna let that go to waste. 

The moment he spotted you behind the camera, watching him do a scene he excused himself from set, earning him eye rolls from all the other cast and crew members. 

The two of you disappeard and haven't returned since.

“Fuck baby, it’s been so long..” He mutters in between kissing you from your lips to your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. He needs you badly. 

Tom hadn’t even bothered to put on something else, so here he was in his full on space cowboy attire including the hat, pressed against you. It almost felt like you were sneaking around like a bunch of horny teenagers in high school. 

“It’s only been a week, Tom.” You chuckle softly, your voice already a bit breathless from his touch. 

“Mhm.. too long.” He trails kissing down from your neck to your cleavage. His hand move down and start playing with your skirt, making his intentions quite clear to you. “I need you, baby.. please..”

How could you ever deny him when he looks up at you with those sad puppy eyes, begging you to let him fuck you into next week. You nod slowly and pull him in for a deep kiss. 

He kisses you like a starving man, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile Tom’s hands hastily try to undo his belt, at this point he doesn’t care if he rips his entire costume. They probably have another 10 lined up for him anyway. All he can think about is being inside you right now, the sweet sounds you make when he fucks you, your hands in his hair, you lips on his.. 

Fuck, fuck. 

“Shit..” The actor mutters as he keeps struggling with his belt until he finally manages to unbuckle it. He quickly shoves his pants down his legs along with his underwear revealing his hard cock, the tip already red and leaking pre-cum. You practically groan at the sight of him, yes it had only been a week but you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again. 

He lifts your skirt up and pulls your panties down, a grin appears on his face as he notices you’re already dripping for him. He licks his finger and teasingly runs it along your wet and sensitive folds. “God baby.. you’re so wet.”

You whine softly, aching for any kind of friction between your legs. Your eyes are locked on his as he licks your juices off his finger, if you weren’t so good at composing yourself you’d be drooling over him right now. 

“Ready?” You nod in return. He smiles at your consent and slowly pushes his throbbing cock inside you, dragging a long moan from your throat. He lets out a string of curses as he pushes himself in all the way in, everytime with you felt just like the first and he never got tired of it. 

Once he’s all the way inside he let’s you adjust to his size for a moment, kissing you from your neck down to your collarbone. “Doing so well f’me, baby..” He mutters.

When you give him the sign he slowly pulls out before slamming his cock right back into you, hitting you in just the right spot. Your hands move up to his dirty blonde hair, fisting your hand in it. “Fuck- Tom just like that..”

You get completely lost in the pleasure between the two of you. His hips rutting into you while he sucks marks onto your neck, dragging moan after moan from you.

“Missed you.. and your pretty little cunt.” He groans loudly as you clench around him. You’re so caught up in each other that you don’t even notice Gail coming around the corner until it’s too late. 

“Tom! We’ve been looking everywhere for ya!” She doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest about the position she’s found you both in, because let’s be honest she’s caught him do worse things. 

“Jesus fuck-” Both of you startle and Tom curses as he quickly uses his long coat to cover you both up. He stares at her with a look of annoyance and disbelieve, although he should have known that his producer is not one for playing around. “What the fuck Gail?”

“We’re losing dayligt, Ryder. Chop chop.” Gail ushers and crosses her arms as she stares you both down. 

“Fine.. fucking hell.. could you just- just turn around.” Gail rolls her eyes, but eventually turns around to give you both whatever privacy you got left. 

“You gotta talk boundaries with her, Tom. I swear to god.” You tell him in an ushered voice, so Gail can’t hear anything. He sighs and reluctantly pulls out of you, making you let out a soft whine. “I know, baby.. I’m sorry. Shoulda taken proper care of you, hm? I’m gonna make it up to you I promise, love.” 

He neatly fixes your panties and skirt back in place before pulling his own pants back up. Both of you are left disappointed and wanting, but Tom had a job to do. Unfortunately. 

“Meet me at the loft tonight?” He’s giving you those puppy eyes again. God you love him. 

You nod and receive a very happy Tom Ryder in return. He kisses your forehead softly before walking towards Gail with that usual annoyed look on his face.

“I told you not to interrupt me when i’m ‘busy’.” You can hear Tom whisper to Gail. 

“And I told you I wouldn't, but you were still wearing your damn mircophone, you idiot.” She tells him return and Tom just shrugs, seemingly not bothered by the fact that the entire cast and crew just hear him fuck his girlfriend. But then again you’ve never seen him embarrassed or ashamed of anything and you’ve seen things. You don’t hear anything else before they disappear out of view.  

Guess you’d have to finish this later tonight. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any Tom Ryder requests pleasse don't hesitate to leave me a message, Reblogs and comments are so much appreciated you have no idea. Love you guys <3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

[jiminrings]

fail-safe finale sneak peek :-)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount:  14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

sneak peek 01

“And he’s…?” she lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face.

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook once again with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

.

.

.

sneak peek 02

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most.

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife.

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop because that’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

.

.

.

#i am so sorry in advance <3 wanna read the finale now? subscribe to my patreon for early access + exclusive content + everything :D

also yes: the finale will still be posted here on tumblr, but at a later date, aka april 7, 1 am kst :)

[margareth-lv]

⛓️ When art and life become one ⛓️

I believe fairy tales have a great deal of therapeutic power. And there's nothing quite like a good story.

As I’ve written here a few times before, I first started watching Outlander in 2020 – a challenging year for us all. At that time, we all needed a good story to take our minds off reality. And to move into the catharsis that art offers. You can imagine my excitement when I realised that two actors (who were so obviously in love) playing the characters in the story were born around the same time as the characters they were playing.

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, born on 1 May. Sam Roland Heughan, born on 30 April. Both Taurus, just like me. Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser, born on 20 October. Caitríona Mary Balfe, born on 4 October. Both Libra.

And, as you might expect, in both the play and real life, she is older than he is. Isn't it wonderful how things just fall into place sometimes? There’s always something to ponder, think about and enjoy.

But it's been a while since we've seen joy in "enjoy." The Taylor Swift concert is the exception that proves the rule, here.

I'm getting tired of the low-level storytelling we've been presented with for a while now. This story is the worst of the worst. It’s a pretty poor selection of C, D, and E cinema.

And it's pretty sad how two people, who literally built their relative public recognisability on being the 'hottest couple on the screen', are now pathetically role-playing their supposed 'real love lives'. And neither of them succeeds. They're also pretty weak actors in their roles of romantic lovers (I'm thinking mainly of Sam here). Let me just say that they're not pathetic only when they're together. *** *** *** When I saw the blurry, embarrassing footage from this weekend's Giorgio Armani Tennis Classic (tagged #ad on Sam's Instagram), my first thought was that it was a spectacle for us, our Tumblr fandom. There's no one else who would be interested in something you have to look for with a magnifying glass, zooming in, spending long minutes stopping frames of film. Then I got reminded about the Wimbledon Tennis Championships back in July 2019 and another poor performances by 'bride' and her 'groom' a month before their 'wedding'.

Do you remember those pictures?

First wife, second wife, Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser and Laoghaire MacKenzie, I mean, Evie Greenwood, a primary teacher.

You know, realism and art all blend together.

We first saw this kind of kissing being reduced to sucking on the partner's upper lip in what we were forced to think was Sam’s ‘real life’, and then we saw the same thing on screen.

And what about Sam's somewhat embarrassing performance in The Couple Next Door? Which other actor in that film has exposed themselves so much (and so pointlessly), in a literal sense?

How many of us thought Sam's performance in the erotic scenes in TCND was not sexy at all, but disgusting?

I did.

Wasn't that display of Sam's rhythmically moving buttocks as distasteful as his other performance a few weeks ago?

Seriously, I would never want my husband/partner/father of my children to behave like this. There's no money worth it. But maybe there is.

Sometimes I feel sorry for them, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I remind myself of how jealous Cait can be.

How on earth do they manage to live like that?

[3 July, 2024]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Lena Horne (Cabin in the Sky, Stormy Weather)— Incredibly talented biracial actress, singer, dancer, and activist (she did so much work towards integrating audiences). Because of the racism of the era, she rarely got to be the lead actress but filmmakers loved her so much that they would often create stand alone segments within a film to highlight her beautiful singing, knowing that these segments would ultimately be cut from the film by censors in areas that forbid films with Black performers. Also, she's just so wonderful in Cabin in the Sky as a gold-digger villain who is not the least bit subtle about her intentions. I would highly recommend checking out her work.

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lena Horne:

Black American powerhouse singer and actor who faced all the usual bullshit that any BIPOC faced in vintage Hollywood and achieved legendary status anyway. Also a Civil Rights movement icon.

She was a gem

She was so beautiful and those dimples are amazing! Truly depressing how badly Hollywood treated her because she was black. I would love to have seen what she really could have been if they didn’t cast her in so many yikes roles. She’s got gorgeous eyes and that body! Her joyful smile makes happiness sexy!

Civil rights actress, singer, dancer, actress, she's got the whole package

Lena Horne was a wonderful singer and actress who largely starred in black cast musicals. While she had a lot of main stream success, she ultimately lost the lead role in showboat (a role she had played on the stage) to a white actress due to hollywood's prejudices. She was also blacklisted during the HUAC hearings, but she still managed to be hot be hot as fuck and have a career spanning decades, working with more well-known stars like Judy Garland in musicals, and working on stage and releasing albums when her hollywood career began to suffer.

Miss Horne became famous during a period of time when Hollywood had very few meaningful roles for people of color. Although she is more so known as a performer, she starred in two successful all black productions (Cabin in the Sky & Stormy Weather). If that wasn't enough, she also guest starred on the Muppets (Season 1, Episode 11)

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

[slowd1ving]

ACT IV: DECAY ✦ . 　⁺ VIL SCHOENHEIT NSFW

Vil Schoenheit and second place aren't supposed to be a thing. He's supposed to be the very embodiment of perfection, so why the hell is someone else's name usurping his crown on the Potions leader board? In which our starring actor cannot quench the flames of academic rivalry and resentment that consume him, nor can he fathom the enigma that you are. gn! scientist! reader warnings: contains nsfw but only later, angst with a happy ending, spoilers for book five, canon-compliant violence

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

BREACH THE IMMEASURABLE CHASM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

PREVIOUS PART ✧ ･

Scene I: Ink . 　⁺

It all starts again on a very dull morning. Staccato beats of the rain on the rickety windows of Ramshackle provide background music for Vil to drink his smoothie to. Except that’s not the only miserable music. His ears are assaulted by the conversation you’re currently having with Jamil, Rook and Ace. Does Grim count when he’s technically the other pea in your miserable pod?

“All I’m saying is that there’s no reason to make a movie series that long,” you argue. Whose movies are you referring to? Vil wishes he was paying attention earlier. “Like what have you got to say for that many movies?”

“Trickster, some people are just dedicated to the pursuit of their passion,” Rook intercedes, leaning his head on his hands to gaze at you more efficiently.

“The Fast and Furious franchise has no reason to be that long,” you lament, frustration creeping into your tone. Vil’s never heard of that movie series. He doesn’t think he wants to know what it is.

“Rook, there’s like nine sequels, and the last one especially does not make any sense,” Vil takes back his earlier thoughts. This seems to be a conversation between you and Rook, in which Ace and Jamil are unenthusiastic spectators. “There’s nothing less beautiful than plot holes.”

“Anyways,” you continue in the same breath, all hints of sadness gone. Vil’s not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. “Do you guys feel ready for the SDC tomorrow? Your routine is really impressive.”

“My bones hurt so much,” Ace groans from behind his food. “I’ve never felt so pulverised.”

“We will win,” Jamil promises you, fiddling with his spoon on the table. You give them both a cheerful thumbs up while eating - for once, you’ve got scraps of decorum.

“I will put on my most beautiful performance knowing you’re watching, mon cher,” Rook clasps your hand between his gloved ones. Sure, Rook’s probably just being himself, but Vil can’t help the trickle of unease that he feels.

“I don’t doubt it,” you respond with a grin. “Those RSA twerps won’t know what hit them. Although, I’ve had a really weird set of dream-”

“Spudling,” Vil clears his throat to get your attention. You turn to face him, still wearing your jubilant grin. His heart almost stops. It takes all he can to not fumble while taking the lanyard out of his blazer pocket. “Keep this lanyard safe so you can come backstage as the NRC Tribe Manager.”

“Cool,” you take it one handed, still allowing Rook to clasp your other hand. Why does Vil care so much? He tries desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Thanks!”

“We’ll go over the routine and iron out any wrinkles in around twenty minutes,” Vil continues, meeting the eyes of each cast member. He’ll just have to ignore whatever he’s feeling until after the SDC. “Make sure the rest of the potatoes are up and ready to go.”

The tell-tale signs of nervousness creep into Vil’s being after he exits the room. He has to beat Neige. No longer will he be cast aside to play the villain. The world will see what he’s got to offer.

“Mira mira, tell me who, at this moment, is the fairest of them all?” Vil speaks slowly and quietly to his phone as he makes his way to his room to get some items for practice.

“Neige LeBlanche.”

He should’ve expected it, really, but he cannot help but let his teeth grind slightly in anger. Just you wait, Neige. He’ll beat Neige fair and square. Finally, he’ll be able to step out of the villain’s shoes.

His muscles ache after his gruelling training. Nothing he won’t be able to recover from; he can’t help but push himself to his limits at the prospect of beating Neige. The rest of the crew somehow manages to execute a near-flawless performance, with only a few minor hand-placement errors.

“Wow,” you cheer them on by your designated spot next to the speakers, cradling Grim in your lap. “You guys are absolutely gonna shred the competition.”

“That’s right!” Ace grins at you, catching the water bottle you toss at him and taking a few enthusiastic swigs.

“Pass me one too,” Deuce reaches out as you toss another water bottle. It’s a natural cue for a break, and the crew decides to take a breather. Vil feels an absurd surge of pride at the sight; somehow, these ungainly tubers have managed to grow into shapely potatoes who can no doubt beat Neige.

“We’ll regroup in ten,” Vil instructs. He’s not satisfied completely, but the passion that’s been poured into this routine is undeniable. Before he can question his body, his legs are already taking him to you. You’re scratching behind Grim’s ears and look up in abject surprise at his approach.

“I need your opinion,” Vil murmurs, leaning down to you so your faces are in close proximity. You furrow your brows; he knows how unlikely it is that he’s approached you. Still, your analysis skills are seriously impressive. “Can you give me a detailed observation of our performance? Spare no detail.”

“Right,” you pull out your phone nonchalantly, scrolling through your gallery until you find the recording of the practice. Of course you’ve come prepared.

“Right at the beginning it’s a really strong start, but as soon as those first few seconds are up, Deuce always misplaces his hand-” Vil’s not sure when he joins you on the floor, leaning ever so slightly into you as you zoom into the areas of imperfection.

“You’ve noticed that too?” Vil comments. You murmur your assent, pressing play again.

“It’s only a slight error, but yeah,” you continue, pausing the video again where it’s Kalim’s misstep. “I think it’s just overeagerness and the adrenaline of performing. The rest of the errors are really just minor hiccups with the singing - but I won’t be able to point them out as well.”

“I’ll give them some extra individual instruction,” Vil promises, more to remind himself than reassure you. You turn to scrutinise him; it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the weight of people’s gazes, but it’s just you.

“I’ve made notes on the small, consistent screw-ups that’ve surfaced recently when it comes to dance steps. Rook and Jamil are both fine, and Epel only has one,” your shoulder brushes against him as you turn extra carefully to not disturb the snoozing Grim on your lap. You hand him your class notebook, which has been filled with quick sketches of the mistakes. Vil’s eyes widen considerably at the level of diligence you’ve afforded your role. Sure, he knows your eye for detail in science, but he never thought-

“You can borrow it for a bit,” you turn the page to show him the notes you’ve made. Then suddenly you flip back to the previous page.

“I forgot you won’t be able to read them,” you sigh in exasperation. “All that work for nothing.”

Vil is oddly touched. You’ve made extensive notes just for him? He can feel the gesture warm his cheeks as he stares down at the outreached notebook, waiting for him to take it.

“The thought is appreciated,” he thanks you, carefully placing your notebook within his lap. He’s lucky the diagrams are circled with different colours marking out areas of weakness, or he’s sure he’d get lost trying to read through the scribbled notes right next to them.

“I can always just read them out if you need me too,” you lean back on one palm, balancing your body weight as you scritch under Grim’s chin. As much as the little furball wants to deny it, he’s very clearly got the mannerisms of a cat as a large purr rumbles from him. You stifle a little giggle into your shoulder.

“That- that would be great,” it’s so unlike Vil to get flustered, but he can’t help the smile that stays on his face well into the remainder of the practice.

He can’t seem to hold onto whatever hatred he had for you.

Scene II: Rot . 　⁺

The next time he sees your face is around ten minutes before the dress rehearsal on the SDC stage. Vil can feel his already straight posture adjust itself so it’s completely perfect, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Rook, given the look the hunter shoots him. He’s ignoring that.

“They almost didn’t let me in,” you complain, striding over to Rook and waving the lanyard that’s around your neck. Vil’s not sure how they could’ve missed it, with it being what can only be described as a neon red.

“It’s good to see you regardless, mon chou,” Rook is once again clasping your hands, and once again you’re not pulling away.

“I’m going to ignore that you’ve just called me a cabbage,” you comment, looking around at the stage. The little furball that’s normally with you is nowhere to be found; Vil isn’t sure whether to be relieved that he isn’t wreaking havoc here, or whether to be worried that he’s wreaking havoc elsewhere. “Where do I sit while watching?”

“There’s actually the front seats directly next to the stage,” Vil points to the special row reserved for managers and important personnel. You unhook your hands from Rook’s to turn to where Vil’s pointing, your eyes lighting up as you see the comfortable looking chairs set up.

“Right, thanks,” you flash an extremely brief smile at both of them. It seems that whatever rivalry you had with him has been dissolved on your end. He doesn’t know if he should be insulted or happy about it. “Break both legs for both performances.”

“What?” Vil mutters to himself as you stride away enthusiastically. Maybe it’s just a saying from wherever you’re from. It’s ‘break an arm’ for performances, what are you on about? “What could that possibly mean?”

“Mr. Shoenheit, we’re about to go on air to tape your practice performance,” a cameraman apologetically interrupts Vil’s musings. He snaps to attention, letting his face fall back into the most professional poker face he can manage.

“Of course, I’ll get the NRC Tribe into formation,” Vil responds smoothly, waving the rest of the crew to the front of the stage. It only takes a minute; they’re clearly enthusiastic (if not a bit nervous) to perform in front of people who aren’t you and Grim. Deep breaths. A wave of resounding calm flows through him; it’s a lucid state he’s perfected before each and every performance.

The first notes of the rhythmic song start. His eyes unfocus slightly, allowing his muscle memory to take control for the most part. It’s now just a matter of pouring his emotions into the song and dance to truly capture the hearts of those watching. The flow. The haze. It all becomes a part of him, and he knows the rest of those dancing up on stage with him can feel it. Surely they feel the connection of their passion?

He meets your eyes, your wide, enraptured eyes as you gaze at him. He doesn’t fully realise, but the words he sings are for your ears for now. Let this be dedicated to you, and he can worry later about sharing the passion he feels with the rest of the spectators. Vil’s not emotionally stupid; he can tell his feelings have veered into territory that he simply doesn’t want to acknowledge yet. He just has to let them flow into his performance and worry about the rest later.

His mind is deliciously clear, enjoying the endorphins pumping through his blood at the pleasant stretch of movement. It’s already halfway done? The altered passage of time when he’s in the zone is always a surprise. From your excited grin, he can safely assume this performance is one, if not the, best they’ve given. And it’s all for you to watch, before it’s posted for the world to see.

Raucous applause disrupts his flow as the cameras are cut with a signal from the camera crew. You’re standing and clapping your hands with some serious force as you join them up on stage.

“Almost moved me to tears,” you joke, congratulating them on a flawless performance. “Seriously though, you guys are ready.”

You don’t need to say anymore. You stand back to give them space, but Vil watches in dawning horror as you bump into the one and only Neige LeBlanche. It’s only a mild shoulder bump, but it’s happened. The two of you have made contact.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise profusely, taking a big step back. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine, really,” Neige smiles at you, sickeningly sweet. Beside Vil, the NRC dance crew members look at you with incredulity. Why are you so goddamn oblivious? “I shouldn’t have approached this way.”

“If you’re sure,” you trail off, noting the weird looks directed your way by Ace and Deuce. “What the hell are you guys gawking at?

Before Vil can say anything, you’re already being yanked away by Ace’s insistent tugging. Your brows are still furrowed. Goddamn. Have you really never heard of Neige LeBlanche?

It seems Ace is interrogating you with that very question, judging by the furrowed glances he sends both your way and Neige’s. It seems Neige is quick to mask his surprise, walking towards Vil (which was probably the whole reason he approached the group in the first place).

“Your group was amazing,” Neige gushes - his eyes are lit up with awe. Vil feels… nothing, eerily enough. All that’s coursing through him is malicious calm.

“Thank you,” he maintains the professional image easily and smoothly, not missing the way Kalim and Deuce’s eyes swivel between him and Neige.

“It was truly a sight to behold; I had chills just watching,” Neige continues with starry eyes. “I can’t wait to work with you again!”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Vil muses calmly, letting the air of conversation fizzle out. Out of his peripherals, he spots you and Ace rejoin the group. Unfortunately, it seems Neige has also spotted you again; he shoots you a smile and turns to you.

“Hi, I didn’t catch your name earlier,” Neige’s innocent question leads you to a quick pause before introducing yourself. You’re not overly friendly, more like care-free as usual.

“I didn’t catch your name either, sorry,” you continue politely. Did Trappola wander off-topic while lecturing you? It clearly seemed like it from your slightly bewildered expression.

“Neige LeBlanche, at your service,” Neige’s eyes carry that stupefied look for only a second before it’s swiftly replaced by a cheery smile. Nothing. Vil suppresses a snort of laughter at your politely unknowing expression. Of course you’d be like this, meeting the arguably most famous person in the land with no respect for their importance.

“Cool, I’ll leave you guys to it,” you respond amiably, sending a thumbs up his way. You’ve just upped and left? Vil turns to the side slightly to stifle his laughter as you wander back to the seats where you’ve left your notebook. Utterly lacking proper conversation etiquette as usual. He supposes it’s a positive seeing the Neige LeBlanche seemingly at a loss for words.

“Was that NRC’s manager?” Neige asks Vil. With dawning horror, Vil realises that most of his crew is also standing at the first row with you, due to their practice slot being finished.

“Yes,” Vil responds succinctly, watching Neige watch your movements as you talk with Rook. You’re currently being rattled like a rag-doll with the way he’s clasping your shoulders and shaking you slightly, no doubt grilling you over how you didn’t know who Neige was. He can hear your raucous laughter from all the way on stage.

“Your manager this year is awesome,” Neige compliments, leaning forward slightly to see the action further. Vil suppresses the shudder of disgust. No way this is happening right now.

“Ah, I’ve got to go round up my own crew,” Neige comments distractedly, looking around him. Vil gladly takes this opportunity to take his leave to join the rest of his group, leaving nothing behind but a goodbye.

That bastard. Vil watches the concluding moves of the RSA crew’s performance with barely concealed disgust from his seat in the stands.

“We’ve been had,” he utters in shock. No way. That bumbling performance they’ve put on-

“What do you mean?” Kalim asks in dismay at Vil’s change in attitude.

“He’s right,” Jamil agrees with a heavy sigh. “Look at how much they’re appealing to all demographics with their sugary sweet performance.”

Deep resentment begins to fester within Vil. A familiar ringing noise fills his ears as he tunes out the chatter of everyone surrounding him. He almost doesn’t feel the way he slips out of his seat and down the stairs leading to the rooms within the colossal arena. He feels the pressure of a heavy glass bottle within the palm of his hand, not even having to look at it to know it’s one of Epel’s apple juice bottles. He’s only dimly aware of subconsciously infusing the drink with the same curse he used during the poison assessment.

May those who drink this fall into an endless slumber, Fairest One.

The comforting bubbling slosh of the drink lets him know it’s been tampered with. A small, rational part of his brain urges him not to do this; the rest of his body is consumed by an abyss of disgust and hatred. Gunpowder and other acrid chemical smells appear in wisps, only registering faintly as familiar with his nose. He ignores it all.

“Hi, Neige,” Vil smiles brightly at the youth in front of one of the backstage doors. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your wonderful performance.”

One heartbeat.

Neige turns at the sound of Vil’s uncharacteristically cheerful voice. He doesn’t suspect anything amiss, but Vil supposes he’s always been that way.

“It makes me really happy hearing that from someone I admire a lot,” Neige beams back. Perfect.

Two heartbeats.

“How about a drink? I’ve become rather partial to this brand of apple juice,” Vil’s smile is rehearsed; it’s absolutely oozing with venom.

“Sure!” Neige agrees enthusiastically. “I saw the brand on your Magicam a few weeks back - I was even going to order before I realised it had all sold out.”

Three heartbeats is all it takes to deceive him.

It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? Vil’s downfall has been secured by Neige over the course of his life, whereas Neige’s downfall will be brought about in only a few seconds. The smooth glass of the apple juice bottle does not reveal the curse roiling within. It’s perfect - scentless, colourless and lethal. He wants to laugh when Neige accepts the cool glass bottle so easily. Has he no sense of danger?

“Roi des Neiges!” Who does that voice belong to? With a start, Vil turns to see Rook’s slightly dishevelled form as he runs up to Neige. “My apologies for interrupting the two of you, but the staff were looking for you, Neige.”

“Roi des Neiges..” Neige’s voice trails away as he stares contemplatively at Rook. “Wait-”

“My, I’m absolutely parched after running around looking for you,” Rook swiftly takes charge of the conversation. Why now? Vil can feel sharp cracking within his very soul. “Might I trouble you to let me have some of that refreshing juice you hold?”

No.

“Of course,” Neige agrees enthusiastically, if not a little perplexed.

“You should hurry back, Neige,” Rook continues, taking the bottle offered kindly. “And do not come back here.”

“Huh? What do you-”

“Go on, off with you! Away!” Neige’s question is sharply cut off by Rook’s insistence. Vil can hear him scurry off, like a little rodent.

“That sweet, tart aroma,” Rook breathes. With a start of horror, Vil notices that the cork of the flask has been removed. “Truly.. Epel’s hometown beverage is magnifique, to say the least.”

“I shall drink it to the very last drop, Roi des Poisons,” his knowing gaze meets Vil’s stricken one as he slowly raises the bottle to his lips.

No.

“Don’t do it, Rook!”

Glass shattering. It’s all Vil can do to keep track of what’s happening. His head feels like it’s underwater.

“He used his signature spell to curse the apple juice!” It’s the same speaker from earlier. Kalim?

“-look on his face was the same as Jamil’s-”

“-lost control-”

“Rook,” Vil’s voice rasps. He’s not sure he made the conscious decision to speak. The hunter turns to him with eyes not holding anger or disappointment, but concern. “Why did you..?”

“I wanted to believe in you,” Rook holds his gaze with no traces of accusation. “If it was cursed, I still wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste the fruit of a poison derived from an obsession with beauty bordering on madness.”

Madness?

Vil tunes them all out. He’s dimly aware of you speaking in concerned, hushed tones to the rest of them. Why are you here as well?

“Vil, do you have any idea how foolish that was?” Kalim’s voice is rimmed with desperate emotions. “After all that work, after saying the other teams would look like spuds compared to us, why stoop to this?”

Why stoop to this? Can’t he see that there is no other way? Rage pummels his veins, ripping through his body, his mind, his soul. Something gathers within him, dark and inky and fatal.

“That’s what I want to know,” Vil’s voice is laced with ice, and pure venom. “I’ve come to a realisation. That I… can never win! I’m going to handle Neige myself.”

“Trickster, Kalim! Do not inhale that mist rising from the floor! It’s the evaporated form of that cursed liquid!” Rook’s urging has hints of desperation within it. He turns to Vil. “I don’t see why one glass would have such a drastic… Oh, Vil, you didn’t-”

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” Vil pleads. It’s not just Rook, he can see you as well, looking at him with that gaze that makes him want to bury himself away. “I just wanted to be the fairest, so why? Why? Why am I so ugly?”

“Roi des Poisons, you are far from ugly,” Rook calls out to him, reaching out a hand. Vil longs to take it, but he can’t. He’s too far gone.

“You haven’t actually hurt anyone!” Kalim’s pleas fall on uncaring ears.

“Silence!” Vil’s voice snaps. He can almost see himself from a separate plane, mist rising up around him in acrid, poisonous billows. He can see you, swaying on your feet slightly, looking more shaky than your companions. “What do any of you know? What does it matter if any of you forgive me? I can’t forgive myself!”

Let go.

Dark streaks overcome his vision, ebbing and flowing along the edges. It would be nice, to hand over the reins for a while, wouldn’t it? To let go of his fury, his resentment, his jealousy. What a dream.

“If I just melt everyone into hideous messes,” Vil’s barely aware of speaking. It’s a rather distorted voice, isn’t it? He can’t help but laugh. “Then I’ll be the fairest one of all, won’t I?”

The last thing he sees before it all overcomes him is your stricken face. He’s not sure you’ve ever worn such an expression before. He’s unlikely to forget those eyes, your facial muscles contorting into a painting of intermingling horror and worry. Why does he feel that shame rising again?

Didn’t he let go already?

Scene III: Wake . 　⁺

“I was the villain bullying the hero in the last play, too. Why do I keep getting picked to play the bad guy? Do I really look that mean?”

Villains never stay on stage for the whole play. Once their role is finished, all they can do is watch from the shadows as the happy ending plays out. What I want is to stay on stage longer than anyone else.

“Those kids were trying to hold me accountable for a work of fiction. Silly boys, the lot of them.”

I always aim for one role - the hero. But… all I ever get to be is the villain.

“Vil is too special to play the part of a regular teen that viewers can relate to. Without that reliability, I don’t think he’ll ever pull off playing a hero.”

I would do anything to be beautiful. The most rigorous training. The most tedious hair and skin care regimens. I would shy away from none of it. And yet.. Why? Why is it never me? All I want is to stay on stage until the end of a show.

In the end, it’s not the gentle splattering of rain on his face that wakes him up. It’s some foreign warmth on his face that causes his eyes to slowly open. Framed by his eyelashes and the haze of a deep slumber is your face. It’s as if you know, the way you look at him with such tenderness and concern. It’s as if you’ve pulled him from the deep recesses of his memories yourself, with the way your rough hands prop his head up so gently.

“How am I..” Vil rasps out, looking at you with nothing but queries in his eyes. His eyes search over your tired expression, the way the sclera of your eyes is still tinged a slight purple, and the various small cuts across your face. Did he do this? Waves of shame hit him and he can’t bear to meet your gaze.

“Thank goodness you’re awake, Vil,” you murmur down at him. Is this the first time you’ve said his name? It sounds foreign on your lips, and unbearably sweet. Why aren’t you mad at him? Why do you keep looking at him with those unaccusing eyes?

“Oh, Vil.. fair Vil,” Rook sighs in relief, crouching beside you on the rain soaked ruins. Ruins? Vil takes the opportunity to look round the battle site, the upheaved flagstones, the despoiled decorations. Another wave of shame meets him when he notices the haggard faces of his crew (is that Kalim bawling his eyes out? And is that Jamil scolding him?).

“I’m.. sorry you had to see that undignified display,” Vil apologises, making sure each and every one of his words is sincere. He cannot begin to comprehend how much shame he’s feeling at the moment. “Only third-rate people throw temper tantrums and take their problems out on others. My conduct was most unbecoming of all…”

“Y’right about that,” Epel grumbles, but without a trace of actual malicious intent. “Thought ya said people grow out of temper tantrums by the time they’re three?”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right, Epel,” Vil uses your shoulder to haul himself up so he can sit up. You don’t seem to mind, even grabbing on to his wrist to steady him. With another crash of guilt, he realises how your grasp is shaky, no doubt due to your exposure to the curse when you don’t have any sort of natural magic resistance. “I’m no longer fit to be your leader.”

“You haven’t actually hurt anyone, Vil,” Kalim argues. Vil can see him approaching and standing next to where Rook crouches. “You haven’t stepped over that brink.”

“He’s right,” Jamil says, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of outside the coliseum. “Neige is dancing out there happily with the seven dwarfs. It’s a stretch, but we can say we got worked up and had a team brawl in here.”

“Yeah,” Ace interjects. “No way we’re letting you pull out because of a few bruises, after the wringer we’ve been put through.”

“All of you,” Vil feels a horrendous mushy feeling swell up within him. You’re still supporting him with the way you’re steadying his wrist. “You just want to pretend nothing’s happened?”

“I never said that,” Jamil retorts, but his face blooms into his signature smile. “We can just hold off explanations until after the competition.”

“You truly are wicked, Jamil,” Vil replies with a small laugh. It hurts, and he feels his chest contort with pain. Your grip on his wrist tightens and you steady his shoulder with your other hand, clearly not missing the way his face twists into a grimace.

“Here, I’ll help you stand, alright?” you’re surprisingly strong, with the way you unceremoniously (but carefully) haul him up so he stands leaning into your firm touch. Even with your clearly weakened state, you still grip onto him as if he’s the fragile one that isn’t allowed to fall. Vil can’t even bring himself to protest.

“I wasn’t the one who made the shot so strong, Vil was,” Deuce seemingly replies to a conversation Vil’s unconsciously tuned out. “The spell stores all the damage I take, then hits it back all at once. So it was only potent because of Vil’s potent magic.”

Ah. Deuce seems to be describing the final hit Vil can barely remember taking, the one that likely brought him back to the brink of consciousness.

“Don’t make it sound so violent!” Deuce splutters in indignation, and Vil once again realises he’s tuned out. He doesn’t particularly mind, focusing instead on the way you unconsciously seem to tense your muscles against him when shifting, the way you still have that signature chemical smell to you, the way you’re looking directly at him with that expression-

“Signature… You mean that’s my signature spell?” Deuce seems to be coming to a realisation with sparkling eyes. Good on him. Beside him, Ace seems to be coming to an unpleasant realisation with the way he’s incredulously muttering to himself about how he can’t believe Deuce has mastered his signature spell before him.

“Behold, Vil is awestruck and weak-kneed from the splendour of your blow,” Rook proclaims, gesturing to the not-awestruck Vil.

“I’d wager he’s also weak-kneed from something else,” Jamil comments sardonically, looking pointedly at the way you’ve got him in your grasp. Vil only hopes you’ve become suddenly preoccupied with something else.

“No, I’m just beaten head-to-toe,” Vil swiftly retorts. “That last blow did strike soundly, though. Nicely done, Deuce.”

“Thank you, sir!” Deuce smiles at him eagerly. “Although, I don’t know what to do about the wrecked stage.”

“It’s not feasible to fix it all with magic,” Jamil replies pragmatically, looking around him with a calculating expression. “With what power we have left.. Every scenario running through my mind all ends with the same brick wall.”

“Does that mean.. SDC is…” Epel trails off, looking at Jamil with a dawning sense of horror.

“What do we have here?” The new, booming voice is accompanied by green fireflies that send a small shiver down Vil’s spine. What’s he doing here?

“I thought I’d arrive earlier,” Malleus hums with a touch of surprise, surveying the surroundings briefly. “What do I find but a stage laid to waste?”

“Hornton!” you exclaim, and Vil can feel your sternum vibrate through his shoulder. You’re.. acquainted with Malleus Draconia enough to call him nicknames? He can’t even be surprised anymore. “There’s still two hours until the SDC opens!”

“Hornton?” It’s a collective response from the rest of the crew, voicing Vil’s thoughts.

“Do you have a death wish, calling your upperclassman that?” Ace shudders at your audacity.

“Do you even know who that is?” Epel’s shocked voice causes you to blink in surprise at his tone.

“He told me to call him whatever, so I did,” Vil has to stifle a laugh as you shrug. Of course you did.

“However did you get into the coliseum, Roi des Dragons?” Rook sounds positively astonished.

“I was invited by the Child of Man from Ramshackle,” Malleus replies, gesturing to you.

“Yep,” you affirm. Vil feels as though you’re ignoring the other, more pressing question Rook’s asked.

“The entire venue is still enveloped by the poison mist generated by Vil,” Rook’s explanation trails off as Malleus holds up a clawed hand.

“I am impervious to any curse, no matter how powerful,” Malleus takes another look around the wrecked coliseum. “Whatever could’ve happened here?”

Vil watches as you briefly and efficiently describe the events, listening extra hard for the parts where he would’ve been unconscious. It’s curious, the way you don’t let any trace of exhaustion or pain enter your voice. It only takes around two minutes for you to give the gist of the situation to Malleus.

“Children of men, I shall bestow upon you a gift,” Malleus’ words come with an incredible magic pressure that leaves Vil’s eyes wide. He steals a glance at you, and watches your own expression become slack with awe and curiosity.

“That’s Malleus Draconia for you,” Vil murmurs to you. Your brow furrows as you look down at Vil.

“That’s Malleus? Hornton over there was the one everyone was so excited about at the Spelldrive tournament?” you ask incredulously. After all this, you’re still holding on to that nickname? Your eyes dart back to those green fireflies that are somehow lifting all the ruined flagstones and pillars, and rearranging them into pristine condition. Within the space of a few heartbeats, Malleus has managed to restore the conditions of the arena into an exact replica of how they were before.

“He’s ludicrously out of our league,” Ace mumbles in awe. Vil can’t help but agree.

“Thanks a bunch, Hornton!” you beam at Malleus, who stares at you for a brief second before breaking out into chuckles. It’s the first time Vil’s ever heard the fae laugh, but you’re full of surprises as usual.

“Though you know who I am, you still stick to that pet name?” Malleus sounds terribly amused, looking at you as you fumble with an explanation. He interrupts whatever apology is about to leave your lips with another chuckle. “Truly, I do not mind.”

He turns to look at Vil with a resolute expression in his eyes that’s made all the more disconcerting by his piercing green eyes. “I’ve set the stage for you, Schoenheit. I trust you will keep me entertained.”

“I hardly need your urgings to put on my finest performance,” Vil suppresses the wince of pain as he straightens his posture, ignoring the very tangible reality of you still grasping onto him. “Be prepared for a standing ovation.”

“I’ll expect nothing less. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Malleus’ last words fade out with his disappearance. The only traces left behind by him are those green fireflies.

“Lady Luck is truly on our side,” Rook comments after the flashes fade out. “I was hardly expecting Roi des Dragons to appear here.”

Me neither. Though it seems today is a day full of surprises.

Vil leans into your warmth a bit more, and you indulge him. The arm carefully wrapped around him is sure and steady - he wants nothing more than to stay here until the end of time. You don’t ask questions, looking past his shoulder so you can direct the crew to their water. He knows he must let go to perform - it’s highly unusual to see the Vil Schoenheit rely on anyone, even if it’s a little bit. To see him clinging to someone, his rival of all people…

Gingerly, he lets go of you. Your grasp on him is firm to the very end as you let go and make sure he’s not at risk of fainting. The concern you display is almost comedic, but you don’t say anything.

He can feel your eyes burning into his back as he walks away, but he doesn’t look back.

Scene IV: Unopened Missive . 　⁺

Vil supposes it’s comedic as he pours everything he’s got left into the final performance, only to score exactly one point below RSA. It’s always like this; him, exactly one step behind Neige. He can’t fault Neige, anymore, not after he’s come to terms with it. As the thrum of music faded and the flow of performance left him, he was acutely aware of the raucous applause he drew. He did not care. All he was searching for were your eyes.

He’s sure Lady Luck is laughing straight at him as Rook proclaims himself as one of Neige’s biggest fans. What betrayal! Of course this has been added onto the list of surprises. It’s strange; he doesn’t feel the annoyance he’d expect to be simmering through his veins at that moment. It seems he’s let that go.

It’s practically hilarious as he joins Neige on stage to sing an encore. Only scraps of bitterness remain - had Vil not exhausted the whole team earlier, they might have won and took back that one measly vote. He’s accepted that. Still, his frustration is palpable as he leaves his crew to sing with Neige, though not to the audience. His professionalism is the one thing he’s managed to keep up.

“Hey,” your voice breaks him out of the reverie. It’s bizarre, the way you’ve escorted him back to Pomefiore, even though he’s got Rook and Epel to do that. It’s even more bizarre, the way he’s let you gently drag him to his room, where Rook and Epel have already gone back to their own chambers. They already know it’s best to leave him alone when he’s in a bad mood. So why.. why are you still-

The sharp tang of medicinal ointment brings him back to the current situation. You’re poised between his legs as he sits at his vanity, with an assortment of bottles behind you. It’s strangely intimate with the way the soft dusk lighting envelopes you with its mysterious aura. He’s not wearing any makeup, but you don’t seem to care; your gaze caresses his features, laced with only concern.

Please, don’t look at me with those eyes.

“I’m going to begin, alright?” you murmur, searching his eyes for any traces of discomfort. Vil nods wordlessly. The pressure on his chin from one hand of yours is feather light; he finds himself leaning into it slightly. Your other hand lightly brushes over the cuts on his face with the ointment swabbed onto a cotton pad - strangely, it lacks the usual sting which normally elicits a sharp hiss of surprise.

“I made this ointment myself,” you explain after seeing the surprise conveyed in his eyes. Of course you did. In any case, it seems to be working fine, judging by the rapid cooling sensation he’s feeling across his face.

“Why-” Vil begins to ask as you cap the ointment bottle and twist it closed with practised ease. Your hand is still on his face, but he can’t bear to pull away. Not here, in the privacy of his room, where the only eyes upon him are yours. “-why are you still here? Don’t you dislike me?”

You pause in the rummaging you’re doing in your pocket. Vil holds his breath as you turn to him with that contemplative look you wear while figuring out potions.

“I don’t actually dislike you,” you comment matter-of-factly, tilting his face to each side to observe your handiwork. “I’ve got better things to do than spend my energy stewing over you.”

Ouch.

“You still haven’t answered my first question,” Vil’s composure is rapidly slipping down the drain as he remains (quite literally) in the palm of your hand. Your gaze doesn’t falter. “Do you just feel bad for me?”

“No,” you respond idly, still tilting his head this way and that. It’s like watching a cat bat at a toy. “I thought it might be good to have company and rely on someone else for once.”

There’s something else you aren’t saying. It’s unspoken in your eyes and the way your brow makes imperceptible furrows every few minutes. Vil’s breath hitches in his throat slightly.

“Did you-” he’s interrupted by that look, not one of pity, but one of resolute determination.

“Yes, I saw those memories,” you admit. You don’t look at him with an apologetic expression, one that screams pity. It’s a relief. “I didn’t mean to, like at all.”

“It’s fine,” Vil supposes it is fine. You wouldn’t tell anyone, he feels. He watches as your expression shrivels up into one of abject surprise as you feel around in your pocket, drawing out what seems to be a cream-coloured, expensive looking envelope. Vil knows exactly what it is, even as you scan the front quizzically then shrug. Of course. You can’t read the runes.

“It’s the results for the poison assessment,” Vil supplies. Strange. He doesn’t feel any excitement, or fear - it’s bordering on the neutrality of acceptance. It seems you feel the same way, as you just toss the envelope down with disregard onto the vanity and continue your search in your pockets.

“Aha!” your triumphant exclamation leaves him blinking in surprise. Why haven’t you acknowledged the results at all? You brandish another bottle of ointment in front of him excitedly, almost hitting him on the nose due to your very close proximity. “I’ve found the muscle and bone ointment!”

“Aren’t you going to look at the results?” Vil asks incredulously - it slips out before he can even comprehend he’s said it.

“I can’t even read them,” you untwist the ointment with your teeth, leaving tiny dents in the metal cap. “I’ll look at them later.”

The potent tang of nettles permeates the air as you set the open bottle onto the table behind you, letting go of Vil’s face.

“I’m going to need you to undress so I can access your back,” your nonchalant tone makes Vil’s reaction delayed. He can feel the back of his neck heat up at your words. “I heard the nastiest little crunch when Deuce’s spell hit you, so I’m gonna have to check those ribs.”

“Right,” Vil swallows thickly, standing up. Wrong move. You’re much too close now, pressed up against the vanity with him standing right in front of you. His body is brushing up against yours, and he can feel your body heat. Shit. He moves out of the vicinity to the bathroom, with all the composure of a professional actor.

“This ointment’s designed for deeper use than surface level injuries,” you call out behind him. “It’s gonna sting!”

“That’s fine,” Vil responds before shutting his bathroom door. He quickly loosens his shirt, wishing it were your hands doing- His heart pounds in his ribcage as he shuts down the thought. It only takes a minute before his shirt and blazer are both tossed into the laundry basket, all too soon considering the flushed sheen emerging on his face.

One final cursory inspection of his face in the mirror is necessary before he goes out to face you. He’s almost taken aback - not by the lack of makeup which he’s already accustomed to, but the sheer vulnerability within his expression. He looks like such a mess, and you’ve not even commented on it? You’ve just accepted that it doesn’t matter what he looks like; you’re going to treat him the same regardless. It’s a far cry to what he values as his principles.

He pushes open the door hesitantly. His torso is exposed, and he suddenly feels the jarring pangs of shyness. Why now? He’s gone topless for movie scenes before, for Sevens’ sake! Steeling himself, he opens the door completely. You’ve placed the vanity chair by the bed- surely you’re not-

“You can either lie on your stomach here, or sit up on the chair, which might be more uncomfortable,” you explain briefly, rolling up your uniform sleeves as if you’re about to conduct a lab practical. Am I the lab rat? “I’ve picked up a few massage tips here and there, so overall it should be a quite pleasant experience. Of course, if you want to omit the massage-”

“No, it’s fine,” Vil lets out a shaky breath at your nonchalance, gingerly lying on his front on his covers. Jack of all trades, aren’t you? He doesn’t realise just how tense his muscles have been until you press your thumbs into the muscles situated around his scapula. Your hands are coated in some sort of resinous, volatile substance, judging from the brief alcohol fumes flaring up whenever you place your hands down. You were right, there is a sting, but it’s not as sharp as he expected.

Why are you doing this? It’s a question that keeps replaying in his mind’s movie theatre, with the cruel laughing soundtrack interspersed in a tragic loop every few seconds. The two of you aren’t friends, and what you’ve done goes beyond the level of care Vil normally receives from friendship. He can’t complain, not when your warm, rough hands are finally on him, even if it’s to just rub the ointment in.

“Now, I’m no medic,” there’s a faint apology in your tone as you concentrate the ointment into a specific, aching spot. Vil barely registers the sting of pain due to your burning touch. “But I think that your rib’s been bruised at the very least in that spot, and that ointment should’ve healed the worst of it.”

His rapid heart rate distracts him from the loss of body heat from you as you move your hands away from his body. Please don’t stop. He feels a heavy pressure on his right shoulder, and to his surprise it’s the palm of your hand waking him from his reverie.

“I’ll bandage you up just to be sure,” you murmur, shifting your weight from foot to foot and looking around. It’s clear you’re hesitant, maybe due to your lack of experience playing a so-called “doctor”. Still, judging by the way the deep ache within has eased, you’ve done a pretty darn good job, as Epel would no doubt say. “Sit up.”

Vil obeys, gingerly swinging his legs round the bed until he’s sitting, and you’re once again hovering over him as you slip a clean bandage out of its plastic wrapping. He breathes in the comforting warmth of your body heat and repertoire of chemical smells that mask the floral traces on your skin. Don’t you feel the rushed thrum of blood that’s pumping through each vein and each capillary, as you wrap your arms around him to begin winding the bandage?

Is he nothing more than a mere patient to that clinical precision you currently sport?

“What would you have chosen, if you won the poison assessment?” Vil suddenly asks as you clip the bandage into place with a satisfied hum around the middle of his torso.

“Why are you asking as if I lost?” you let out a bemused chuckle, gesturing to the still-very-closed envelope sitting on his vanity. “We don’t know yet.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Vil could melt with the way you’re gazing down at him as he sits with you standing in between his legs. Your sharp eyes contain a warning, one he has no intention of heeding as he presses the subject. “Won’t you tell me?”

“Fine,” your voice rasps slightly as you stoop down to his level. He can’t help but shiver at the sensation of your warm breath rustling past his ear. “Are you really that eager to know?”

“Go on,” Vil almost pleads, and he’s sure you hear the quiet hints of desperation in his voice. Your eyes lock back onto his; he’s slightly regretting asking you as he sees the dangerous glints in your eye. His breath hitches as he realises it’s the same, all-consuming look of seriousness you reserve for your experiments and potions. It’s as if he already knows what your answer will be, with the way his blood excitedly thrums to the surface to respond with an echoing yes.

Please.

The rough pads of your fingers meet his chin again in that gentle grasp as you tilt his head upwards. This is really happening, right? It’s as if he’s in a haze; anticipation of your movements is the only thing breaking him out of it.

“Can I..” you murmur, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. He holds his breath. Yes. Your mere touch calls forth fireworks to explode in a vibrant cacophony.

“Please,” Vil’s quiet gasp is all the encouragement you clearly need, because the next thing he knows you’ve stepped forward and met his open mouth with yours. The heady taste of woodsmoke and cherry syrup lingering on your tongue is positively intoxicating. He’s not sure, but he can also taste the coppery tang of blood as well. Perhaps it’s from the heat of battle earlier? Regardless, his blood rises in response; he’s sure his face is flushed a deep pink.

You don’t hesitate, leaning his head to the side with your fingers to kiss him deeper and deeper. He groans into your mouth, feeling you smile as you taste his desperation. He positively convulses as he feels your hand trace the bare skin of his side; he’s so vulnerable like this, and he knows you feel it as you press into his body.

Vil gasps for air when you pull back. A string of saliva connects your lips to his; with a start, he realises that your lips are shiny and traced with the purple lipgloss he’s wearing. Your eyes are half-lidded with intensity and some other roiling emotion he can’t place. It makes his breathing even more uneven when he realises he’s made you look like that.

“Like what you see?” even now, traces of rivalry still lace Vil’s tone; he cannot help but provoke you to elicit another reaction. Your gaze slowly travels up and down Vil’s dishevelled appearance, making sure to scour every inch of it. He holds his breath when your lip curls in disdain.

“Please,” your voice rolls deep from your throat with sarcasm. It makes Vil’s blood cells burn with want. The sharp, intense look in your eyes only becomes more turbulent; it’s insanely attractive to be at your mercy.

“Don’t make me laugh-” your fingers curl into his chin more, and Vil can feel the suppressed strength within the grip. Blood is rushing straight down, and he can barely keep track of all the thoughts racing through his head. “-not with the way I’ve seen you almost do flips for my attention, with your one-sided rivalry.”

“Ah-” Vil’s gasp sounds suspiciously like a moan as you move closer, pressing a knee in between his legs inadvertently. You’ve clearly heard it, with the way you furrow your brow and pause your motions.

“Did you-” your eyes fully take in his heavy breathing and the way he’s coming undone from just kissing you. Your question is answered immediately.

“Please, keep going,” Vil pleads, removing one hand from where it’s gripping the sheets to your hip. You swallow thickly, eyes darting between his hand and face.

“You sure you want to continue?” you prompt, eyes settling into that same dangerous glint once again. “I don’t want to aggravate your injuries..”

“Please,” Vil all but begs, seeing the way your eyes glaze over with desire. The hazy, smoky smell of your skin almost acts like an aphrodisiac; he cannot help but be ensnared.

“Alright,” your voice is hushed when you tilt his head upwards to access his jugular, biting into the area slightly with sharp canines. He knows you feel it: the way his pulse jumps erratically beneath your touch. You draw out quiet, hushed gasps with every mark you make on his throat, with every movement of your waist against his bare torso, with every nudge of your knee in between his legs.

More.

He doesn’t even realise he’s slowly rolling his hips against your leg to feel any sort of friction until you press down on his hips with the hand that’s been supporting his shoulder.

“Not so fast,” you breathe against his skin - his back can’t help but arch slightly at the feeling of your breath against his neck. “Allow me to take care of you.”

It’s your words that make him pause in shock; they’re an eerie echo of what you said in his dream. Judging by the lack of change in your expression, you don’t know about it; thank Sevens.

You’re pressing into him, forcing him into the bed on his forearms while you lean in, kissing his mouth feverishly to bring out his gasps and moans. He’s unbearably hard, all the more so because of your knee moving out of reach each time he chases that delicious high. This is better than any dream.

Burning kisses trail their way from below his ear down to his collarbone. He’s suddenly glad for the wonders of concealer as he thinks about the marks you’re leaving. On the other hand, he’s strangely into the idea of people seeing he’s taken by you, so much so that you’re marking him up like this.

“Ah- right there,” Vil can’t suppress the noises he’s making as your lips travel down to his chest. He doesn’t care who hears him; he’s seeing goddamn stars with the way your tongue circles his nipple and your thumb mirrors the action with the other one. The pressure you’re applying deftly is making him intoxicated.

“You look so beautiful like this,” your fingers glide over the neatly wrapped bandages on his chest, trailing down to his waist. He doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to beat any more erratically without thumping straight out of his chest. Is he really sure that you haven’t magically seen his dreams? After all, you’ve seen his memories. He waits with bated breath for your next move, not realising that you’ve already positioned yourself to hover between his thighs with a small grin on your face.

“Mind if I take these off?” you hook your thumbs around the tailored trousers he’s wearing. It takes considerable self-restraint to not tell you to just rip them off.

“Go ahead,” it’s a wonder that his voice doesn’t crack from the sheer pressure of what he’s feeling at the moment. Your grin is all edges as you efficiently unzip the front and slip the pants off. It seems that he’s surprised you when you look down at his smooth legs with your eyebrows slightly raised, taking in the fact that he’s wearing sheer black stockings to his mid thigh underneath his pants.

“All for me?” you run your fingers down his legs appreciatively, feeling the soft material underneath your fingers with an even sharper grin than before. Vil can’t help but shiver at the feather-light touches you give, contrasted sharply with the jagged vertices of your smile.

All for you.

It’s as if you can read his thoughts. You’re once again hovering between his legs, spreading them with nothing more than a gentle push. The touches you leave on his legs feel almost possessive; he cannot help but adore it. Will he be the only one seeing that expression on your face? He wants to be the only one, the only one to see the tumultuous desire warp and thrash within the glints in your eyes. It’s a far cry from your usual composure.

Sticky residue from his lipgloss is left on his soft inner thighs as you press kiss after kiss to the skin. He can feel desire pulse through you with every bruising mark you leave. It entrances him. The unspoken words you leave him are more than enough to assure him that even like this, with all his bruises and scrapes and tears, he’s beautiful.

Your hands slowly ease his underwear off; the cold air on the sensitive skin makes him hiss slightly, but it quickly turns into a gasp as you leave kisses in the crook of the skin connecting his thigh to his pelvis.

“I’m going to absolutely ruin you,” you promise quietly. The ravenous look in your eyes doesn’t subside as you gaze at him from between his legs. He can’t help but let out a small groan at your words. What would his fans say if they saw him, lying so pliant for his supposed academic rival?

One of Vil’s hands fly up to his face to muffle the moans escaping his lips when your thumb circles his slit, made all too easy by the flow of pre-cum from his dick. The other hand is left desperately clutching at the sheets of his bed as his hips involuntarily buck upwards into your hand.

“Uncover your pretty mouth,” you slowly twist your hand down, all while gazing at his flushed face. He’s already seeing stars at the friction and can barely register his hand leaving his mouth to grip the sheets. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

He can only hope that his door is soundproofed from the obscene noises leaving him as you pick up the pace. It’s not enough. Your hand moves away each time the haze of pleasure builds up, leaving him chasing after your touch. He’s sure he looks an absolute mess right now with the way tears are leaving his eyes and his brow has the sheen of sweat; you clearly don’t care as you lithely move upwards to kiss him. The cool fabric of your clothes presses into his bare skin, making him feel incredibly exposed to you.

You’re still moving with that teasing pace as you swallow down his moans. It’s unbearable, all the more so because you’re still covered in your uniform. He almost sobs in relief when your hand picks up speed and the pleasure starts steadily building in his stomach. His hips desperately grind into your hand and you let him, let him come undone with your touch and quiet praises. He’s close; the dopamine is flooding through his veins and all he can focus on is the way you touch him, the way you’re currently kissing his jaw and leaving more marks on his neck, the way you’re coaxing such obscene sounds from both his throat and from the skin on skin friction.

It builds and builds and builds, until all he can fathom is saying your name over and over, as if he’s some devout worshipper invoking some otherworldly being. He lets go, feeling the way you slow down to allow him to ride out the climax. Only white-hot pleasure courses through his mind, fading out more slowly than usual. He kisses you feverishly, feeling the warm skin on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer and closer. You’re now lying side by side on his bed, with you pressed up against him wearing your despoiled clothes, ones that have been despoiled by him.

“You’re removing your clothes as well, I hope?” his gaze trails down your body, looking at the offending uniform that you’re wearing. It’s a wonder he’s managed to form a coherent statement. Still, it’s only fair that you also remove the fabric with those deft hands like you did to those tailored trousers he was wearing.

“Right,” your gaze softens, moving your hands away from his body. His brows furrow with a question as he watches the hand sticky with cum approach your face- oh my. A scarlet flush blooms on his cheeks as you use your tongue to clean your hand up, before using it to lazily remove your blazer and vest. You don’t give them a second glance as you toss the clothes on the floor. The warmth you’re emitting is all the more palpable as only a thin buttoned shirt separates your skin from his. It’s incredibly attractive, watching your languid movements as you discard the shirt off to the side as well as your trousers.

The feeling of your bare skin on his shouldn’t elicit such a burning reaction from him, but it does; he groans as you lean back to slowly kiss him, feeling the way your body heat envelopes him without any barriers. He’s acutely aware of all the points your skin brushes against him - it’s insanely addicting. You’re kissing him without a care in the world, judging by the way you lazily cradle his face with your hands. He’s so malleable under your touch, so starved of affection that he’s wrapped around your pinky finger. He’s sure you can feel the way his skin flushes with a simmering heat.

The blue hour soaks you both in the gloom as your hands press him closer and closer, until he can barely distinguish where he ends and you begin. Is this what it means to become one, united in flesh?

Does he look beautiful to you like this?

He knows he does. He knows he does when you reverently trail down with your kisses, settling between his thighs again to fill him up with your fingers. He knows he does as you feverishly coax those angelic moans out of him; your eyes are blazing with desire for him. He knows he does as you draw out his climax for as long as you can so wave after wave of pleasure can keep hitting him.

It’s late evening when the two of you fall asleep, tangled together and worn out.

The letter on the vanity lies forgotten; Vil doesn’t particularly care about the results when he already feels your equal.

Scene V: Closing . 　⁺

“Goodness, trickster,” Rook’s exclamation when you emerge in the Pomefiore lounge room in the morning thankfully goes unnoticed by the few students milling about. “Our dorm uniform looks simply ravishing on you.”

“Yeah, mine got quite ruined from yesterday’s events,” your voice sounds raspy as you try to sell your act to Rook, who’s positively cooing over you. What a little prankster. Vil can’t help but glance at you from his favourite armchair. As the culprit responsible for ruining your uniform, he of course had to lend you a uniform. Still, you do look rather good in it.

“Don’t tell me you slept over and didn’t tell me?” Rook plasters a look of mock-hurt on his face, and Vil implores you to shut your mouth for once and put on the best act of your life.

“Something like that,” your expression is innocent, with the exception of your raised eyebrows. You don’t look at Vil at all as you smile at Rook, who’s unfortunately glanced over at Vil, scrutinising him with that disgustingly perceptive look.

“Does that explain the bruises on his neck?” Vil chokes on his smoothie hearing the hunter’s whisper. Of course he forgot something this morning. Of all days.

“Whatever could you mean?” you inquire nonchalantly, straightening the ironed collar of the uniform.

“Oh my,” Rook’s eyes are as wide as saucers as his gaze swivels between you and Vil. It’s rare to see him this gleeful. “You two totally slept-”

“I’m going to need you to shut it, Rook,” you cover the offender’s mouth abruptly before he can say anything more. You’re not denying it though, looking back at Vil with a wicked grin on your face.

Shit.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hii! First off, I LOVE your writing.

Secondly, what if during a movie night w/the demon brothers, (bc I am convinced they have them...) they (unknowingly) pick a movie that stars MC. What would each of their reactions be? Could you also do one with the undateables too?

Thx for reading! <3

Heyyyy I wrote your request as a group story because it's thought it's easier than writing for each brother individually. As for the other guys there will be a part two coming soon. Enjoy!

Summary: The brothers and MC are having a movie night and they find out that MC is one of the actors in it.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

GN!MC

The brothers' reactions to MC being an actor in a movie

It was a peaceful night in the Devildom. There weren't many hardships during the day and all the brothers were pretty energetic. The eldest wasn't preoccupied with too much work so he was planning on spending the night with a glass of demonus and the sound of record playing in the background while relaxing on the comfortable sofa in his study. All of a sudden though MC along with the rest of the brothers burst through the door of the study just as he was choosing the perfect record for the night. Lucifer shot them a look of tiredness and question before crossing his arms at his chest.

Mammon: Yo, Lucifer! Ya in mood for a movie night? We haven't had those in a while. Whatcha say?

Asmo: Yep <3. I just looove watching a movie while cuddling with someone. Can I pleaseeee cuddle you, Lucifer?

Satan: Guys why don't we just watch it ourselves? Why do we need Lucifer there?

Beel while nibbling on some food: Because... Num.. num num.. we're.. num.. num.. a family, Satan.

Satan rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall behind him.

Satan: Whatever.

Lucifer: Hm.. a movie night you say? We certainly haven't had those in a while... But...

Upon hearing the word "But" MC looked up at the eldest with the most pleading puppy eyes they could manage.

MC: Come ooon, Lucifeeerrr. Pleaseee?

Asmo along with MC: Please~?

Lucifer sighing: Fine, I'll come. But Asmo, my cuddles are reserved for MC. So I'd appreciate it if you keep your distance.

---

Everyone are sitting in the living room, in front of the TV. Satan is passing through the list of movies the brothers have stored in "to watch"

Satan: How about this one? It's a murder documentary.

Asmo shot Satan with an "are you serious?" look before tilting his head to the side and putting a hand over his eyes dramatically.

Asmo: Are you insane, Satan? Please get this out of my sight!! The image of.. blood alone gives me the chills...

Levi: As far as I know you are the only one in the house that enjoys watching this type of thing, Satan.

Satan: That's not true! MC watches them with me all the time.

Belphie: Do they enjoy it though? Or are they doing it out of politeness?

Lucifer: Or perhaps they pity him for watching the documentaries alone so they decide to tag along.

Satan: Lucifer, shut up. I'm not pitiful unlike a certain someone with their classical music obsession.

Lucifer's eyes darken and his gaze pierced through the back of Satan's head.

Lucifer: Satan.

MC gently pokes Lucifer's bicep, signaling him to calm down.

MC: Guys, let's not fight. It's a family movie night!

Beel: Yeah. MC is right.

Mammon pointing at the screen: How 'bout that one? It's some kind of fantasy and horror mix or somethin'. Sounds great to me!

Satan: Yeah. That's not a bad choice either. Should we watch this?

Levi: Yeah. Looks good.

Mammon: Yo Asmo! Ya ain't squeamish about this as well are ya?

Asmo: Well this one doesn't look as bad as the murder documentary. Let's give it a go.

Satan clicks the play button and sits back on the couch. Though what he doesn't expect is to feel someone snuggling against him. He looks down and his eyes widen upon seeing Asmo getting comfortable on his older brother's chest.

Satan: Asmodeus! I never allowed you to snuggle against me!

Asmo: Awwhh come ooonn, Saaataaannn!! What's a movie night without cuddles???

Despite Asmo's winning Satan pushed him away and looked back at the screen.

Asmo: Ugh, Satan! You're so bad! MC, sweetheart, be a doll and come cuddle with me.

Mammon: Don't even think about it, Asmo! MC is sitting with ME right now. It's not your turn yet!

Everybody continue talking until one specific scene gets on the screen and silences the brothers.They are left in a mix of shock and confusion which was clearly visible on their faces.

Mammon: Wait.. That can't be..

Belphie: But it does look like them..

Levi: Could it perhaps be them..?

MC furrows their brows and looks at the brothers with a questioning look.

MC: Guys, what's up? You went silent all of a sudden... Is something the matter..?

All of the brothers take a look at MC before looking back at the screen.

Lucifer: MC, is that... You?

MC looks at the TV and smiles upon seeing themselves on the screen.

MC: Oh yeah! I'm one of the actors in the movie! I completely forgot. Cool isn't it?

Mammon: Wait WHAT?

Satan: MC, you are one of the.. actors? You're starting in this movie?

MC: Yeah?

Levi: What do you mean "Yeah?" This is a serious matter!

Asmo: MC dear, you never told us that you're an actor...

MC: Is it that important that you have to know?

Belphie: Yeah!

Beel: Yes, MC

MC: ...?

Lucifer sighs and punches the bridge of his nose before speaking.

Lucifer: MC, they're just overreacting. This is a matter to be proud of. I've personally heard many good things about this movie.

Mammon: Overreactin'?! Whatcha mean?!?! We ain't overreactin'!!!

Asmo: Yeah this seems pretty important to me! Like I'm sooo into it!! MC, dear, tell me more! Tell me what make up they use, how did they style your hair because it looks fabulous!

Satan: Yes, MC how does it feel to perform on stage in front of a camera?

Levi: Is it hard? Do you get stage fright or camera fright or something? I would honestly prefer to die rather than perform on stage! How do you do it?

MC: Well..

Belphie: Do they let you take naps in between shootings? If it were me I would fall asleep on stage if they didn't let me nap..

Beel: Do they give nice food? Is it free by any chance? How did it taste like.. Mmm my stomach is already growling...

Mammon: How much did they pay ya?! It better be a nice, big amount B'cuz it would be insultin' to not pay ya enough?

MC: Well, first of all..

Lucifer sighing: MC, you don't have to answer all of their stupid questions if you don't feel like it..

MC: No it's fine...

And so MC proceeds to explain everything to the brothers, answering each question they shoot their way with a wide smile on their face. The brothers seem in awe that MC was staring in the said movie. Some of them were proud and others were simply shocked and extremely interested.

After the bunch of questions from the seven brothers the family finally manages to watch the movie. At times someone would point out MC's acting skills or a scene that looked cool.

Sometimes the brothers would brag about MC and their acting potion in said movie since it was well known. And when they had movie nights they'd sometimes watch other movies MC starred in.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Changed some numbers for this AU but yeah, ALL LITTLE SIBLINGS ARE NOW OLDER AND THEY'RE TND OPERATIVES!!!

Penny's there too because I say so. :3

Roles:

#363: Leader no one can stand, but at least he knows what he's doing... for the most part. Still, everyone wonders how he managed to get into the TND in first place since no one wants him around... welp. Older brother of Numbuh 362. The two can't stand each other and Rachel avoids him like the plague. He always screams at her.

#T: 2x4 technology expert, pilot and hacker. He knows any technology around. Sometimes you can catch him play some games when they have nothing to do. Never leaves without his C.E.L.L.P.H.O.N.E. (Compact Electronic Line Linking Pathway Holds Outer Network Expansion). Mostly silent, very chill, keeps to himself. Can't stand Mushi more than Harvey, if you can believe that.

Older brother of Hoagie Gilligan, aka Numbuh 2. The kid loves him and wants to hang out with him more but, as any teenager would, Tommy keeps him away from himself and his stuff and his room. But Hoagie knows he will know ALL his secrets, one day! Let's hope he doesn't find out he's also a TND spy in the Teen Ninja lines (he gets info from Father and passes it to KND, not a real bad guy!)...

#001: Second in command, everyone would prefer her to be the leader but... well. Very active teen, a bit of a tomboy, she's in charge to come up with plans and put them into action. Kids sometimes mistake her for a kid in a teen body.

Loves to skate, play videogames and dance. Works as a mermaid actor at the aquarium in the weekends. Dating Joey Beetles. Sometimes babysits Nigel Uno, who trusts her enough to ask his parents to adopt her so they can be siblings. She... actually loves the idea... but it's impossible.

#40: Weapon and combat expert, especially for sport related actions. Can't talk at all and speaks using his V.O.I.S. (Vocal Operator Imitating Sounds) to speak. Thanks to that, he can use any voice he manages to sample, kind of like an AI.

Very active, plays many sports and he's good at all of them, especially dodge ball. Dating Penelope Doe.

Older brother of Wallabee Beetles, aka Numbuh 4. The two used to be inseparable, but since Wally joined the KND, he kind of drifted away because "teens are the enemy". It broke Joey's heart but... what can you do.

#30: Spy extraordinaire and camouflage master. She can turn anyone into a different person in a make-up session. Someone might say she's too good at that... like she's hiding something.

She's the school queen, a cheerleader, everyone wants to be associated with her. She's also very intelligent and good at art. She's perfect! But somehow, Tommy doesn't like her. Nerds...

Older sister of Kuki Sanban, aka Numbuh 3. The two seem to be very close, playing together and sharing everything, from make-up to clothes (well, those that fit...).

Sometimes Kuki accidentally reveals her KND plans to her, eheh, so silly! Mushi always has a good laugh telling them to her team!

No, I'm not talking about the TND...

No one suspects anything. Not even Tommy, since she never revealed her face while working for Father.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Worth The Wait: Part One

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey so every one know that Jensen like Batman, so i have this ideas where the reader is Jensen wife and popular actress who is casted to play Cat woman with Robert Pattinson or other one and the reader never tell Jensen because she want to be a surprise or something like that and she bring him to the premiere where was the Batmobile and him was just fanboy? Fluffy between Jensen and reader 

Summary: You've been working on a movie you know Jensen will love to see, so you've managed to keep it from him until the world premiere. Now it's your chance to unveil the surprise.

Square Filled: hereditary for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: we're all gonna pretend that the movie Batman v Superman had Catwoman in it. okay? okay.

x

This all started when your great-grandmother got scouted to be in short films in the early 1900s. Actresses weren't a big thing back then but someone took one look at her and knew she was meant to be on the big screen, whatever that meant back then. She was known all throughout the state as a big-time actress even though all the things she was in were silent films. She had a great facial profile that really embodied everything she was thinking and feeling. She started young but that’s what people did back then. They started their professions at a young age.

When your grandmother was born in 1934, your great-grandmother was already moving on to bigger and better things. She starred in the movie It Happened One Night, The Thin Man, and MGM’s musical/romance adaptation of Cat and the Fiddle. Those were just to name a few. Your grandmother saw what she was doing and wanted to follow in her footsteps, doing everything she could do be in television, the big screen, and in theater.

She got her big break when she got cast in Treasure Island and Fantasia with Disney. She got acting gig after acting gig until she had your mother in 1954. She took a few years off to be with her family but got right back into it. Your mother had a knack for theater and did her time on Broadway more than she did in film. She starred in musicals like Applause, Fiddler on the Roof, Annie, Sweeny Todd, and Grease.

She had you in 1989, and you started singing and acting at a very young age. You got into commercials and TV shows from the get-go. Probably because you come from a line of Tony, Oscar, and Emmy winners. You tried not to let your line of succession lead you to getting good parts, but you’ve managed to get a small role in Jurrasic Park as a child, and into much bigger roles in Charlie’s Angels, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Saw I, Avatar, The Hunger Games, and many more.

You worked your ass off to be where you are today, and you’re actually working on putting your own album out because you’re striving to be the first EGOT winner in your family. You’ve gotten one Tony Award, too-many-to-count Oscars, and two Emmy awards.

To think you were the shy theater kid who only sang in front of people if you were starring in a play at school. After graduation, you got into a good acting school even though you didn’t really need it, but you still welcomed the challenge they put you through, even starring in most of the plays there. Now you’re a thirty-five-year-old woman with awards like no other, a husband who is just incredible, and an amazing career that is nowhere close to being done.

Your husband is also an actor, a big one for Supernatural. He’s been nothing short of amazing and you’re so proud of him and his work. It sucked at the beginning of his career since you two barely saw each other but the longer you did this, the more you settled into your own groove. You got to take the time off to be with each other a lot more.

You get to go to conventions with him and he gets to go to movie premieres with you. There is nothing you’d trade for this little life of yours. Speaking of movie premiers, you just got done filming your movie Batman vs Superman where you played Catwoman, but you refused to tell your husband anything about it. He is a big Batman fan, and if you were to surprise him with a Batman premier, he’d go feral. Jensen respected you enough to not go snooping when he knew you wanted this to be a surprise, and his friends respected you enough to not tell him about it.

Jenson has been bouncing in his seat since he entered the limo, and you’ve been watching with a wide smile on your face. When the limo gets to the red carpet, Jensen gasps at seeing everything Batman.

“Surprise! I’m Catwoman!”

“You got to be in a room with Batman?”

You two leave the Limo and smile at the cameras flashing in your face. Jensen doesn’t care if he looks like a little kid, he is going to be excited over anything Batman (even though you’re a tad more of a Marvel girl than DC). You’re trying to get in on one of their projects so fingers crossed! There is a section before the red carpet where people can take pictures with a real-life prop of the Batmobile.

Jensen loses his shit and rushes over with a giant smile on his face. You don’t care if a million people are watching or if it’s just you two, but you’ll always love the way he gets excited over things. He gets his picture taken with the Batmobile alone and then with you, and you pull him off to the side with a smile on your face.

“Is this a good surprise? Was it worth the wait?”

“So worth the wait. This is amazing.” Jensen leans in to kiss you but stops with a gasp. “Is that Michael Keaton?”

Jensen’s favorite Batman is Michael Keaton.

“Yeah, he showed up on set a few times. He’s a nice guy!”

“I’m nervous. Should I go up to him?”

“Yeah. He won’t bite,” you chuckle.

You escort Jensen over to Michael who is more than happy to talk to your husband. He hasn’t been this happy and excited in a while, and you’re glad to be part of it.

x

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