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wolverigrl · 5 months ago

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The Red Carpet Confession

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Here's another try! Please let me know in the comments if you liked it and if you'd like to have a part two? :)

Summary: Hugh and y/n are rumored to be a couple and the two are figuring out their relationship.

The movie that the next parts are about is fictitious. It's a Marvel movie in which y/n plays one of the main roles as a Lady Deadpool variant.

Time period around 2015. Hugh's divorce fictitiously occurred here a year earlier. Hugh is 46, and y/n is in her late 20s.

Warnings: literally none, only some light fluff but nothing more!

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The energy at the movie premiere was electric—the buzz of the crowd, the flashing lights, and the excitement in the air. Hugh’s hand rested comfortably on the small of my back as we made our way down the red carpet. Every now and then, I found myself leaning into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort that came so naturally between us. I glanced up at him, admiring the familiar crinkles around his eyes when he smiled and those laugh lines I adored so much.

We had come a long way since our first meeting at one of Ryan’s infamous dinner parties, where Blake introduced me to Hugh. Some months later I found out that my ex fiancé cheated on me. That night was a turning point for me. Blake, always the caring friend, had rallied Ryan and Hugh to come over with takeout and wine, determined to cheer me up. The four of us spent the evening in my living room, talking, laughing, and simply being there for each other.

Hugh had been a quiet comfort, sitting beside me as I cried, his arm around my shoulders. At one point, Ryan insisted on taking a selfie—our eyes a little red but smiles plastered on our faces. We posted it with the caption:

>>vancityreynolds: Friends who stick by you, no matter what ❤️<<

It was a moment that solidified our friendship, and from there, Hugh and I only grew closer.

Over time, our bond deepened. We started working out together, pushing each other to new limits. One day after an intense session, we snapped a photo—both of us sweaty, grinning, and flexing our biceps. I couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption:

>>y/n instagram: Who needs a gym partner when you’ve got The Wolverine pushing you?<<

The post went viral, and the fans went wild. The comments were full of playful speculation, with people shipping us hard.

>>loganskittycat: You two should just get married already😩<<

One fan wrote, while another cheekily commented:

>>carllax03: Are we sure this is just a workout partnership? Because I’m seeing serious couple vibes here🔥<<

I remember laughing about it with Hugh, but the truth was, there was something between us—something neither of us had fully acknowledged.

Things got even more intense after Hugh's separation. I made sure to be there for him, offering whatever support I could. We spent a lot of time together during that period, just talking, laughing, and working out our frustrations at the gym. He was hurting, and I wanted to be the friend he could lean on. But every time we were together, those buried feelings would start to bubble up again, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore them.

There was that one time I posted a photo of us at the beach in Australia, where I had visited Hugh some days after he told me of his seperation. We were walking along the shore, deep in conversation about the breakup, his children, life and relationships, when the paparazzi caught us.

The next day, the headlines were full of speculation, but what really made the fans go crazy was Hugh's comment under a selfie of us at the beach:

>>thehughjackman: The best view in Australia, and I'm not talking about the ocean 🌊<<

The internet literally exploded with fans shipping us even harder than before.

>>catpool3000: Okay, if you two don't date, the universe is seriously broken😩<<

>>marvelboyx: He's flirting right in front of us! This is not a drill guys!<<

I found these fan comments so amusing and laughed it off, but the truth was, Hugh had become someone I couldn’t imagine my life without.

As we continued posing for photos on the red carpet, I couldn't help but remember the time we ran into a group of fans during another walk, this time back in New York.

Hugh and I had been grabbing coffee when a few fans approached us asking for photos. Hugh was, of course, his usual charming self, chatting with them, making them laugh, and posing for selfies.

One of the fans turned to me, a little shy, and said: "You're so awesome, y/n. You and Hugh are just the best! Your energy is amazing."

I smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you, sweetheart, that means a lot. Hugh makes it easy, though. He's got the charm down to an art."

Later, those fans posted the selfies on social media, gushing about how kind and down-to-earth we both were. The most comments were full of love and support, with many noting how natural Hugh and I seemed together, how much they 'shipped' us. It was sweet, even if it was a little overwhelming.

The speculation about us had been growing for months, especially after that interview with Jimmy Fallon, where Ryan and I were guests. We were there to promote the new movie, and naturally, the conversation turned to the camaraderie on set.

Jimmy Fallon, ever the curious host, leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, y/n, what was it like joining such a big, well-established cast for the first time? Did you find it easy to get along with everyone?"

I nodded, smiling at the memory of my first days on set. "Honestly, I was a bit nervous at first. I mean, these guys are legends." I said, gesturing to Ryan.

"But they made me feel so welcome right from the start. It felt like I was joining a big. slightly dysfunctional, but very loving family."

Jimmy grinned. "And was there anyone you got particularly close to? I mean, everyone's shipping you with Hugh Jackman after those workout posts."

I chuckled, trying to keep my cool. "I mean, Hugh and I did spend a lot of time together. We bonded over our love for fitness, and he's just such an easy person to get along with. But really, the whole cast was amazing."

Fallon wasn't done yet. He leaned in closer, his tone playful. "But come on, Y/N, who was your favorite on set? Who was the person you looked forward to working with the most?"

Before I could answer, Ryan leaned over, placing his hand dramatically on his chest. "Oh, come on, Jimmy, we all know I'm her favorite," he said with a mock pout. Then, as if sharing a secret, he turned to him, cupping his hand around his mouth like he was about to whisper.

"But between us, it's the Aussie. It's always the Aussie."

The audience burst into laughter, and I playfully shoved Ryan's shoulder.

"You wish!" I said, unable to keep a straight face.

Ryan shot me a wink. "Hey, you don't have to deny it, y/n. We all know how much you love Hugh's, uhh workout routine."

I rolled my eyes, laughing along with the audience. But deep down, Ryan's joke hit a little too close to home. Because as much as I tried to brush it off, there was a growing part of me that knew he was right.

Now, as we walked the red carpet together, another interviewer caught up with us, asking the question we'd been dodging all night. "Hugh, y/n. The internet is buzzing with rumors about your relationship. Care to set the record straight?"

My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at Hugh, and he met my gaze with that familiar, playful glint in his eye. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing, as he spoke into the mic,

"We've certainly spent a lot of time, and we do get along really well."

Hugh and I exchanged a quick look, a silent understanding passing between us.

"We've had some pretty intense workouts together." I couldn't resist adding.

The double meaning wasn't lost on the interviewer or on Hugh, who shot me an amused look.

The interviewer pressed on. "So, is it safe to say you're more than just friends?"

Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "I think we'll leave that up to your imagination."

The reporter laughed, realizing we weren't going to give a straight answer. "Fair enough. But you two certainly know how to keep us all guessing."

We thanked him shortly after, said our quick goodbyes, and moved along the red carpet to the next interview.

Another reporter greeted us, smiling, and started right with the conversation.

"Y/n? Hugh, you two have been quite the talk of the town with your workout posts. Can you tell us a little more about your training and diets while preparing for the movie?"

Hugh grinned and nudged me playfully. "Y/n here is a beast in the gym. She's got more discipline than anyone I know, and she doesn't let me slack off."

I laughed, nodding in agreement.

"Hugh's being modest. He's the one who keeps me on my toes. It's hard not to be motivated when you've got The Wolverine next to you, pushing you to do just one more set.

The interviewer chuckled before shifting the conversation to a more private topic.

"And y/n, with your costume being so form-fitting, what kind of uhh.. support did you have underneath?”

The question caught me off guard, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Before I could respond, though, Hugh stepped in, his expression turning serious.

"I think that’s enough for this interview. Thank you for your time." he said, his tone polite but firm, effectively ending the conversation.

The reporter looked taken aback but quickly recovered, thanking us for our time before moving on. As we walked away, I felt a surge of gratitude for Hugh’s quick intervention. Without thinking, I placed my hand on his chest, leaning in close to whisper in his ear.

"Thank you."

He smiled down at me, his eyes softening as he replied.

"Anytime, darling. Anytime."

As the last flashes of the cameras faded and the final questions from reporters dwindled, Hugh and I finally stepped off the red carpet. The air was buzzing with the excitement of the night, but it was the thought of the after-show party that truly had me giddy. Hugh could sense my anticipation and chuckled, his arm still comfortably wrapped around my waist as we made our way to the venue.

Inside, the party was already in full swing. The room was filled with a dazzling array of celebrities, all mingling and celebrating the movie. My eyes widened as I spotted a few of my own favorite celebrities across the room, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. Hugh noticed my reaction and gave me a teasing smile.

"Someone’s excited." he said. His voice was warm with amusement.

I laughed, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

"Can you blame me? This is like a dream come true! There are so many people here I’ve admired for years."

Hugh shook his head, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, affectionate smile. "It’s adorable seeing you like this, y/n. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself."

We made our way further into the party, the music and chatter surrounding us. It didn’t take long before we spotted Ryan and Blake, who waved us over from a corner where they were chatting with a few other familiar faces.

As we joined them, Blake greeted us with a warm hug.

"You two were fantastic out there." she said, beaming. "How many relationship questions did you get?"

Ryan grinned, leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, did they finally get you to confess?"

I exchanged a quick glance with Hugh before we both laughed. "Oh, you know, we kept them guessing." I said, shrugging lightly. "It’s more fun that way."

Hugh nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "We might have let a few things slip here and there, just to keep them on their toes."

Blake raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You two really enjoy this, don’t you?"

"Maybe a little." I admitted with a grin, feeling a little mischievous. "But in the end, it’s our story to tell—or not."

Ryan lifted his glass, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, here’s to keeping the world guessing, then. And to the best workout partners in the business."

We all clinked our glasses together, the sound of crystal ringing out as we toasted to the night and everything that had led us to this moment. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and banter filling the space between us. As I stood there, surrounded by friends who had become like family, I felt a deep sense of contentment.

As the night wore on, we mingled with other guests, and I let my inner fangirl come out to play, much to Hugh’s amusement. He watched with a fond smile as I excitedly chatted with some of my favorite stars, his laughter echoing in my ears when I returned to his side, gushing about the conversations I’d just had.

Blake nudged him playfully, a knowing look in her eyes. "You’ve got your hands full with this one, Hugh."

Hugh just laughed, looking over to me, while I was talking to Ryan. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

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prickly-paprikash · 9 days ago

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Castlevania Nocturne really stepped up its game in the second season.

I had two major complaints for the premiere season of CN:

The pacing was erratic. From episode 2 onwards, it seems as if the story is obsessed with giving us nonstop climactic battles, at the cost of letting the characters and pacing breathe. I understand that a central theme of the first season was loss—not just loss of loved ones and the grief that comes with it, but simply losing at every turn. They make the Vampire Messiah feel more like an inevitability, and it works to some extent. But one thing that the original Castlevania series did well was how it handled the flow of conversation and combat.

Seasons 1-3 were all mostly slow, deliberate episodes centered on talking. Characters would simply converse. The very first scene of Castlevania literally embodies this.

Lisa and Dracula, having an organic yet expertly crafted conversation that feels sharp, poignant, and immediately tells us everything we need to know about these two characters. We get one Lisa scene, and then she dies and yet it hits so hard because of how one conversation was written.

Nocturne's first season, many times, felt more like a quip-fest. Castlevania's humor was dry and morbid, to better fit the sarcastic and dark tone of the series. When characters like Trevor or Sypha or even Isaac cracked a joke, it never felt out of place. They had a cold, callous sense to them. Like their humor was a coping mechanism for the dreary and bleak reality they lived in.

Richter on the other hand felt like a Phase IV MCU lead, being unbearably sarcastic and "witty". Watching Nocturne again, I struggled to like Richter in the first half but he really came into his own after he meets Juste.

In the second season, however, the pacing really knuckles down. It becomes deliberate. And when a fight scene happens pre-episode 7, it feels more like OG Castlevania again. It isn't being treated with extreme weight, but it feels more like a part of every day life for Belmonts and their peers. Whenever Trevor, Sypha and Alucard get into a scrap with Night creatures, it actually had a sense of levity to them. This was a job. An occupational hazard. A logical result of living in Wallachia. In Nocturne season 1, fights were treated with more weight than they should have, while character work felt secondary, barring someone like Annette.

Here, it really allows me to fall for these characters more. Being an OG Drolta stan was so rewarding this season. I really also liked Maria and Tera more here, with Tera becoming a vampire creating a really interesting dynamic between the two and pushing their characters into directions that I didn't expect to enjoy as much as I did.

Mizrak, Olrox, and Richter were sidelined a bit more here, but it makes sense. These three dominated the first season, so it made sense to shift the focus on others and let their characters grow and shine. But just because they didn't take up most of the spotlight doesn't mean their characters were ignored.

Mizrak and Olrox's romance was developed in more subtle ways this time, which I appreciated. The writers let the unspoken heat and budding romance speak for themselves here, and I really enjoyed Olrox's sadness and Mizrak's regret and grief here, though of course the best scene between them was at the end. The way the writers made that finale, weaving feelings of heartbreak, lust, love, and fear into that one sentence was so, so good. Mizrak's fear of death and torment. Olrox simply saying that the devil was easy to cheat.

Ugh. That's the good shit.

And Richter? They still let him be the dry, sarcastic quipster, but I appreciate the restraint here. He doesn't crack jokes as much. Instead, they really focus on his feelings with Annette, to the point that he feels more like the love interest rather than the MC for a good chunk of the season.

And I'm not complaining. I enjoyed the budding romance between them in the first season, but with the deliberate pacing here, the writers really sold me on this soft, chaste, tender love story. Richter and Annette feel like young adults falling for the first time and I really fucked with it.

I'll talk about Annette in a separate post, but sufficed to say, she was the best character of this season. Hands down.

My second complaint was Erzsebet Báthory. She felt so... she felt like she paled in comparison to the three other villains of the season.

Drolta was exquisite. She oozed charisma and charm, and she stole every single scene she was in. The animators loved her and I could tell. She had the most costume changes. She had the sharpest lines. She was gorgeous. And even her death felt euphoric because she got to introduce Alucard into the mix. Like, seriously, they used her perfectly in the first season and she was easily the best character by far.

Olrox? Sexy. Gay. Kill me. Him and Mizrak? Perfection. His voice was so smooth and seductive. His dialogue? Smartly written. Every scene he's in, he feels like he's always holding back something.

Rage. Pain. Lust. Desire. Grief. Hatred. Remorse. It is always there, an undercurrent of emotions so thick you could feel it in every scene they placed him in.

Abbott? Worthless. Pathetic. Hypocrite. I hated him every single time he was onscreen, and that was exactly what he needed to be. A counterrevolutionary bible thumper that would elicit powerful memories of unlikable relatives at a reunion. No notes. Perfectly utilized villain, and I fucking cheered when he got burnt to a crisp by his daughter.

But Báthory felt so underwhelming.

So either the writers knew this specific complaint from the fans, or more likely wrote her this way to purposefully hide the true final boss of the series.

Drolta.

See, Báthory doesn't hold a candle to any previous villains of the Castlevania story. Not as complex as Isaac. Not as iconic and important as Dracula. Not as enjoyable to both hate and love as Carmilla. Not as hilarious and memorable as Death. She was just there. I thought it was a waste, and that I wanted to see more of her shine in season 2.

So when the only bit of character work she got was her mourning Drolta and her small flashback, I was disappointed.

Make no mistake, she made a great physical threat. But that was it. She felt more like one of Death's elite guards from season 4 than her own true brand of evil.

Not as hate-worthy as the Abbott. Not as conflicted as Olrox. Not as charismatic as Drolta.

So imagine my surprise and subsequent glee as to when Drolta takes the power for herself. Killing her in the sky. That was perfect.

Drolta, who served Sekhmet. Who broke down at the loss of her goddess, her fellow priestesses, and the people she cared for. Who, blinded by grief, sought to resurrect her goddess by becoming a vampire herself and searching high and low for a worthy vessel.

Drolta became even more interesting. Thinking herself as only a follower, never seeking to gain the goddesses' power for herself. Becoming the first Vampire/Night Creature that gave Alucard, the son of Dracula himself who was leagues above Báthory before she became the goddess, quite a lot of trouble.

The way every villain was handled in this season was excellent. From Abbott's death, to Richter proclaiming his desire to avenge his mother to Olrox's face right after they worked together to beat Drolta, but still letting him go afterwards as thanks—I'm sorry, but that was some raw ass writing right there.

The only thing I have to complain about? Nothing from the writers or animators or directors. It's the production that I hate.

Streaming services fucked everything up. 8-10 episodes for every single show is such a dumb move, and making us wait 2-3 years for every single one of them is horrible.

On top of the fact that they will cancel something on a whim.

Nocturne would be unquestionably a masterpiece had it been allowed to have 24 fucking episodes each season. We could explore France more. See deeper into the revolutionary setting of the show. Really see the world of Castlevania, but no. And now there's still a threat of cancellation when animation has been carrying Netflix's worthless ass for years? Especially through the pandemic?

Watch Castlevania Nocturne. Support the studio. Show Netflix that this is where their energies and money should be going towards.

Their live actions, barring something like the big names of Stranger Things and Squid Game, have been flops. They fumbled the Witcher series. They killed Kaos. They ended Shadow and Bone. They fuck up every single time and it has been animation that has pulled through.

Arcane. Castlevania. Blue Eye Samurai. She-Ra.

Support this show, please. I would love to keep this series going, but it needs the attention it so rightfully deserves.

Please. I need to see Old Man Coyote. I need to see Tera go further into the darkness. I want to believe in the possible Maria x Alucard romance that was in the games that could be written really well here. I want to see more of these characters. I want to dive deeper into this world. But most importantly, I want every single person who worked on this show to keep having a job. To be able to do what they do best and get better at it.

This show is great. It deserves more seasons. More sequel series to explore other Belmonts. Other countries. More sexy vampires. More sexy hunters.

Support animation.

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neighbourscat · 4 months ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 , nicholas alexander chavez

THE ‘SAFE-KEEPING’ PREMIERE. paris , the red carpet

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . actor!nicholas c. X superstar!new actress!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. from the moment you and nicholas chavez began working together, he’s been captivated by your presence. at first, it was just your talent and warmth that drew him in, but as the years passed . .. . it became something deeper, something more intimate.

+ cw. brief mentions of sex.

+ nali’s notes; this is very ‘kerry washington + tony goldwyn’ coded. downbad!chavez . .. . you & nicholas are never beating the couple allegations now. ); wordcount :: 3.5k+

+ to be played: skin tight, ravyn lenae & steve lacy.

THE ‘SAFE-KEEPING’ PREMIERE. paris , the red carpet

“how much are you going to miss her?”

“miss her?” the shuddering breath that leaves his nostrils narrowly frees the anxiety coursing through his veins like light itself. tonight was one of the biggest nights of his career and his dearest friend, his co-star, wasn’t in attendance yet. though he wasn’t entirely new to the entertainment industry, it wasn’t until recently that the pressures of hollywood started to weigh heavily. his co-star had been navigating this flashy world since late childhood and had became, without meaning to or fully realizing it, his comfort person. his anchor in the chaos of fame. and over time, being around this co-star became less about their roles in the film and more about simply needing to be near. “well . .. .” he began, shyness and nervousness lifting from his shoulders, “i won’t be missing her-“

the interviewer, with a microphone in her right hand and a miniature notebook in the left, tilted her head ever-so-slightly. a brow starting to raise and lips beginning to part, he got there first: “-because we’re still going to be in each other’s lives.” her expression softened immediately; brows falling, eyes widening, mouth turning up into a sweet smile, hand ( with miniature notebook ) held over her heart.

“is that right?” she asked then, her voice light — her heart still thumping from the cuteness of this man. he gave a firm nod, his anxiety and frustration quickly gave way to adoration and total worship. the interviewer noticed the change in his . .. . everything, at the mention and speaking of his co-star. she noticed the sparkle in his eyes, and maybe if it weren’t too loud, she would be able to hear the way his heart fluttered.

“i guess that, i-uh, would like to believe that she, y’know, wouldn’t want to leave me,” he said with a genuine smile. probably his first of the night. “but truly, uh, i’m not leaving her and i’m not letting her leave me.” the interviewer studied him intently, a knowing smirk creeping onto her face . .. . and as he spoke and spoke — his response shifting from enjoying the company of his co-star to how close they’ve gotten throughout the film project — she hoped the camera crew had been getting all of this.

it took a moment for him to stop himself — hands scrunching into fists at his sides. he lets them ball before opening back up. closing and opening again in nervous energy. he’s said too much. far too much. so much that he couldn’t even remember what he had just said and it’s only been three seconds or four. two maybe. his heart twisted in his chest, his mind only emphasizing two things: embarrassment and cringe.

“you love her?” the interviewer asked him.

and his heart — the one that was twisting in his chest — had skipped a beat. several. “love her?” he repeated, his voice laced with confusion and worry. “that is what you said. after saying it was, ‘an honour of a lifetime to play opposite her’, that you ‘love’ her,” she spoke into her microphone with confidence. she waved it toward him and waited. the camera crew behind her seemed to draw closer and the interviewer could see the tension in his body again, the regret in his eyes.

part of him wondered how she had remembered those bits, for he had been speaking for a while.

he mentally cursed himself for getting so lost in his thoughts. “no,” he breathed — he caught and corrected himself then: “i mean, yes. yeah. i did. i did say that-that i love her. which i do. a lot, but not like .. . y’know? not like that. because, no,” he tried to keep his tone casual and stable.

he paused, managing a small smile, “in a nice, y’know, platonic way. as a friend does-can, i guess. because someone can say that. that they love their friend,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “ . .. . y’know what i mean . .. .?” his voice faded to a whisper. nothing but a hum.

a long pause.

he blinked up at a camera and then the other, and then his eyes found the interviewer’s again — her mouth moving but no words coming out. he wanted to have a seat. some cold water and a large container of popcorn. he did a poor job at playing that off and he knew that for a fact. just thinking about going home and going onto social media and watching that clip back made him cringe. fuck me.

the interviewer had stopped moving her lips, her microphone close to her chest. there was a shift in the air. a very real, undeniable shift in the air that had everyone turning their heads . .. . in your direction. every human within a fifty-foot radius seemed to be drawn to your presence like a magnet.

and that’s when the temperature had gone up a few uncomfortable notches. the custom-made designer suit he wore constricted; an encircling pressure. and it’s just so tight, that he reaches up and tugs at the collar of the dress-shirt he has underneath. he can’t breathe and he wants to get naked . .. . but he can’t. not right now anyway. because that would be highly inappropriate, and he’s better than that. he has the self-control.

“she looks amazing, right?”

he was holding his breath, daring not to speak as his eyes scanned the flood of bodies, afraid the interviewer would repeat her question or ask something else — something else along the lines of you — and demand his attention from finding you. the deafening loud ringing in his ears finally fell silent when he spotted you . .. . looking like an angel who’s come down to earth to grace the people. the waves of beauty, the elegance, and the warmth you radiated for all the world to see . .. . he had to be beside you. the desire to have you, to touch you and feel you against him . .. . was strong. to put it simply.

your stage name had turned into an incantation, a name that blazed and glittered on the overhead billboard. you winced instantly as the passenger’s door yawned open, being greeted with dazzling flashes from the multitude of various press and entertainment outlets waving their cameras and microphones in your face, the blobs of fans begging you to step over and to sign their notepads and movie posters. pleading and crying for you.

you carefully stepped onto the red carpet and made for the fan bleachers — the low, first-row section. you felt bad for those you couldn’t reach, but still, you waved and smiled and blew many, many kisses.

you touched the hand of a crying teenaged girl — you seized her pink gel pen, drew open her notepad to a blank page and hastily printed over the light blue lines: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and you grabbed another notebook: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and a clear phone case: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then someone’s right palm: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then a ‘safe-keeping’ movie poster: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then a poster from your 2019 world tour: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. you printed your name at least twelve more times before being redirected by security to continue the red carpet, find the journalists and photographers.

you shifted your attention and went as told — the anticipatory looks of reporters and bloggers, ready to barrage you with questions of this ‘steamy, hypnotic, scandalous’ thriller movie, working so closely to nicholas alexander chavez, and your future plans in the film industry ( if you’d settle in or if ‘safe-keeping’ is a one-and-done ): you are prepared for it. your brown, full eyes meet theirs.

“before i even get to my list of questions, can i just say . .. you look absolutely stunning in white,” said the interviewer, clear and passionate. you thanked the young woman, tone soft and with a smile — nearby hearts instantly melting. “what’s the story behind this look? why don’t we start there, yeah?”

“um .. . so ..” you stared down at yourself for a moment and then back up to the interviewer, lips barely touching the fuzz of her microphone cover, “it’s actually kind’a cute how this came to be-“ the interviewer started to laugh, ready to hear your story. “-earlier this year, nico ‘nd i were on the phone and he was sending me cat reels-like goin’ crazy; three at a time, right? ‘nd uhm, he sent this one of a black ‘nd white cat latched onto each other,” you told her, fingers teasing along the skin-tight white fabric. “i couldn’t turn him down, so while he thinks we’re dressed as two instagram cats, i take it as yin and yang; the feminine and the masculine, y’know? our characters, ‘eris and drew’, ‘nd how they really balance each other out.”

the interviewer, with a low chuckle, said: “not only is that cute, but you turning this look over into your own idea and symbolism is so great. gives married couple a teeny bit-“ your lips formed into a tight-lipped grin and you stared down at yourself once again. you considered for a moment, yeah, and refocused in a snap. “-i love the tiny detailing in the front there, for sure. and the hair pieces as well, so gorgeous.” again, you thanked the woman — missing all she had said before that. “i’d actually like to speak of ‘eris and drew’ for a bit. i attended the ‘early showing preview release’ yesterday evening, and .. gosh, the world is not ready for this.”

you chuckled, “no?”

“hell-to-the-nah. you and chavez on the big screen just . .. .” the interviewer was struck speechless, remembering last night’s early viewing. “ .. . you two just work. so nicely and so beautifully.” your heart swelled with love and pride. “that on-screen chemistry, the intensity and angst between ‘eris and drew’ throughout that entire film, i mean, i pretty much melted into my seat every-time you two appeared in the same frame. it was .. . unreal. it was totally insane . .. . but, really, i want to ask you, how?” you shifted your weight a bit, mentally putting together an answer. “how did you both get that to work-hmm?”

and the microphone was back inching in front of your lips, “having a good off-screen friendship helped. that, um . .. that made this entire project so much easier.” she could hear the sincerity in your tone, and it only fueled her enthusiasm. “i love nicholas chavez,” came out easily, smoothly, and warmly. “i love him so much, i do. ‘nd uhm, it’s been so much fun. this experience was so refreshing and something that i . .. actually really needed. he’s just so generous. and so gentle, and kind, and committed. so, yeah, it all just . .. . fell into place.”

eagerly, and with amusement in her eyes, “i’ve spoken with a few other news outlets today, those from the early viewing, and all of them mentioned the ‘one’ sex scene. it was incredibly hot and worth it.” inwardly, you sighed lowly. you weren’t sure why you hadn’t expected it to come up. but here you are again; picking through your brain for an appropriate answer. an answer that won’t get the internet going tonight. “you know where i’m going wit’ this, huh?” the interviewer found herself laughing . .. . while you stood there, nothing but a grin on your face. “anyways, talk to me about that bed-chemistry. you must’ve had a process for that, right? to keep it from being and looking so awkward, i’d assume.”

the interviewer waited patiently. you let out a breath and answered, “i mean .. no, there was no specific process for that-“ the interviewer’s shoulders seemed to droop, highly disappointed — she hoped that you hadn’t noticed. “-no specific headspace to jump into. i’m comfortable with nico, he’s comfortable with me, ‘nd yeah, we simply just . .. did what we were told. performed the choreography, and uh, looked good while doin’ it.” you finished with a warm laugh.

“how do you think it was for him? filming such an intimate scene with a global superstar such as yourself?”

you seemed to turn it over in your mind for a moment and she anxiously awaited your response.

“ya’know what? why don’t we ask mr. chavez?” you suggested through mock-laughs — you were done with this interviewer and had to continue on with your night.

“why don’t we, hmm? i need to see you two together again. quickly. where is he? where is our ‘drew’? where is that brilliant man?!” you shrugged with a low hum and looked over your shoulder, opting to entertain the search. no sign of a 6’foot-something mountain of a man with brown waves and a pretty pearly smile. “hey, when i catch him, i’ll drag him over,” you said playfully, already starting to step away.

“i’ll hold you to that!” the interviewer declared.

and amongst the loud demands and shutter clicks ringing out from cameras that captured you, y/n y/l/n, nicholas alexander chavez is squeezing through celebrities, vips, industry professionals, and other influential guests — apologizing as soon as he gets too close or just almost bumps into them — desperately trying to get you. you were in his line of sight, just a few more groups of bodies to excuse himself past and he’d have you.

and once he had the room to lengthen his stride, he did exactly that and reached your side. and all had been okay again. he found comfort and was at ease. “hi . ..” your attention was momentarily distracted as you felt a light kiss placed onto your bare shoulder. you stared up and relaxed when you had looked straight into nicholas’ brown eyes. your mind off of the interviewers and the photographers and instead on the heat coming off of his body.

there was no ignoring the voice in the back of his mind now — the one screaming at him, telling him that there had been something in your eyes. something so deep and similar as to when he looked at you or stood so close to you. something that flickered just below the surface. it had been there, no doubt, but finally he could feel it and he was certain of it. that something.

nicholas broke eye contact; raising his head and catching the interviewer’s gaze — he apologized lowly for interrupting. “no, no, i’d love for you to get in on this as well. y/n took me through her approach taken to composing those two ‘safe-keeping’ scores. her process and how she added even-more texture to your phenomenal characters; giving them wings and magic and all that good stuff, which again . .. . was absolutely beautiful to hear in the trailers. but i had asked her if she would do that again; write original music for a film or a show even, and she said ‘yes’.” nicholas smiled at that. “but then, i asked if she would be interested in starring in another film-ya’ girl here isn’t too keen on the idea. what do you think? would you wanna star in another film with her?” the interviewer lifted his microphone toward nicholas.

and without missing a beat: “yes. a million times yes.” short ‘n sweet. you and the interviewer shared a laugh. “don’t fall for that. that was a ‘for the cameras’ response, ‘kay?” nicholas bristled a little at your words, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you — his chuckle fake and shaky, the cameras caught that too. “no, but-but seriously,” his voice: calm and easy, “i’d do it-this all over again if i could. the last four years.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, “what would you change?”

nicholas studied your face. “nothing. i wouldn’t change a thing.”

relief watched over nicholas as you smiled to yourself, trying to hide the way your cheeks rose — your hand patting the very center of his abdomen, gentle reassurance and acceptance further calming his nerves. “she’s everything to me,” he mumbled as he bent in to kiss just above cheekbone, his big hand gently resting on your lower back. you laughed with the interviewer again, mindlessly trying to shoo nicholas away. yet, his hand lingered on your backside for a beat longer as you chatted with the interviewer more, his fingers subconsciously tracing small circles on the sleek fabric of your dress.

after two more short questions from the interviewer, you stepped forward — nicholas remaining near, his palm still laid against the small of your back . .. . like he needed you ( which he did ), like if you were to leave his side for even a minute he’d collapse. the fit and contact was perfect and looked too good for the entertainment and gossip blogs.

“what would you tell your 12-year-old self?” the new interviewer asked you and nicholas — and you went first. and as you spoke, gesturing lightly with your hands, lost in your response to your younger self, nicholas moved even closer ( surprisingly, it was possible ) — just enough so that his hip could snap against yours. his hand slipped gently across your waist, his long fingers resting just above the curve of your hip, the touch subtle yet unmistakably intimate.

your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you didn't stop talking, though there was a flicker of surprise in your eyes. you glanced up at him briefly, a soft smile playing on your lips, as if this touchiness was nothing more of a casual gesture; a friendly show of camaraderie for the cameras. but the way his hand had a mind of its own, massaging your hip in a subtle gesture of . .. . something.

the cameras caught every angle — the tender closeness, nicholas’ eyes so fixed on you with a look that wasn’t for the flashing bulbs but for you alone. his chest rose and fell a little deeper, and though he said nothing, the way his arm snaked around you felt possessive — like a silent claim, just barely testing the waters.

you finished your sentence, the interviewer not at all oblivious to nicholas’ never-once straying gaze. “and what about you nicholas?” nicholas stared down at the microphone, mind completely blank.

what was the question?

and in a soft voice, “what would you tell your 12-year-old self?” without thinking, his shoulders eased and he gave your hip four light pats, thanking you for saving him — as you always did. “well . .. .” nicholas began, giving the question some thought. “y’know, i’d tell him to eat more chicken-“

with a crooked smile on your face, “hmm?”

“eat more chicken,” he said again, his tone lighthearted — his hand riding up and down your side. “more chicken, more energy.” the interviewer’s eyes lit up, “fried, grilled, or baked?”

and you watched the exchange, listening to how the interviewer expressed his love for grilled chicken and then how nicholas spoke so passionately about baked chicken — nicholas had an entire backstory and extra details to support why baked chicken was ‘awesome’. for a few seconds, fried chicken had been the topic of discussion; how when he wasn’t feeling baked, he’d go for fried. and when he hadn’t been feeling baked or fried, he’d go for grilled. but ultimately, as he said, baked was his number one.

and when the interviewer waved you and nicholas along — “sorry,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “he really got me going there.” you nodded in agreement, sending him a mock-sweet smile, “mhmm. i heard.”

nicholas’ hand tightened on your waist, “what?” deep and velvety. “why’d you say it like ‘that’?” you shook your head in response, biting back a laugh.

— and finally, as the interviews wrapped up, the final flashes from the photographers dimmed, the buzz of the red carpet slowly shifted toward the entrance of the theater. excitement rippled through the crowd as everyone began to make their way inside for the premiere. the energy, so loud and vibrant outside, now became a hum.

nicholas’ hand was touching the small of your back, guiding you through the thickening crowd — your security surrounding. nicholas’ presence was steady beside you ( as he had been your personal bodyguard ), and though you and him didn’t exchange many words, there was a quiet understanding.

the massive theater doors opened, revealing a stunning auditorium bathed in soft golden light, velvet chairs arranged in perfect rows, and the towering screen that would soon captivate everyone. nicholas reached down and took your hand in his — you glanced at how he turned your hand over, shifting and intertwining his fingers with yours. he squeezed gently, letting you know that you wouldn’t be seated away from him.

the seats filled quickly, the low murmur of voices blending into the occasional pop of champagne corks or soft rustle of programs. ushers guided the ‘special’ guests to their reserved spots near the center—prime viewing for the night’s main attraction.

as you sat, you glanced around, taking in the grandeur of the moment, your heart racing just a little. you always felt this way before releasing any creative work into the world — the calm before the storm of emotions that this film would undoubtedly stir in you.

nicholas lowered himself into the seat next to you, his arm brushing against yours as he settled in, the close quarters making it impossible not to feel the warmth radiating between. the lights dimmed gradually, signaling the start of the night, and the room began to fall silent, a collective breath being held.

and as the opening logos appeared on the screen, you leaned back in your chair, your pulse still quick, though now it was hard to tell if it was because of the film or because of nicholas sitting so close. you crossed your hands and held them in your lap. he leaned in slightly, his shoulder gently nudging yours in a quiet, almost unconscious gesture of love.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the darkening room. you turned your head, catching the soft gleam of his eyes, “yeah, i’m fine,” you said, unfolding your hands. you turned back to the large screen . .. . nicholas not yet staring away, admiring your side-profile.

the opening credits began to roll, casting flickering shadows over everyone’s faces. nicholas didn’t move away, his arm now resting easily on the armrest between, fingers casually brushing the back of your hand as the movie began to unfold. it was soft, unspoken, but the light touch persistent; more than just an accident or friendly gesture.

and here, you feel it completely and clearly. the something — that coursed through his entire being whenever he touched you or spoke to you — was now filling you up. the something you’ve been holding back to maintain a facade of professionalism despite the fact that your heart was consumed by him.

#nali’s ᡣ𐭩 #black writers #black reader #nicholas chavez #fame #lovers #short story #nicholas chavez X black!reader #eventual smut

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doctor-dusk · 5 months ago

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

he showed you that movie theaters were not made exclusively for watching movies.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), piv, public sex. can't remember any more warnings beside these ones.

word count: 7.6k

series masterlist

ffs 7.6k words i'm gobsmacked- i ended up getting too excited, but uuuugh, i loved writing this part. i hope you like it :3

of course you accepted.

however, as much as you wanted to see him, you were hesitant. you had never seen him other than via video call, and you were somewhat paranoid about people you met on the internet. so, you two agreed to meet at a movie theater, which was usually full and where you felt safe for a first date.

it was saturday night and you told your parents that you were going to the movies with your best friend. well, if you were paranoid, your parents were much worse than you. you couldn't simply throw them a ‘i'm going out with a guy i met online’.

but to be on the safe side and to maintain your own safety, you notified your best friend, giving her the address of the movie theater and saying that if you weren't home by midnight, she should call the police.

you were very nervous, of course. numerous scenarios running through your head. possibilities of everything going very right or very wrong. but you were already there.

leaning against the cold wall outside the movie theater, watching the little movement on the street. usually on the date of a film's premiere, the frenzy is imminent. lines of cars on all sides of the avenue and more queues to buy tickets and get in the rooms. but now, it's calm. so calm.

you looked at your phone, checking the time. you scheduled it for 8pm, there were exactly 7 minutes left. you were too anxious, at 5pm you were already taking your shower and at 6:40pm you were ready. but you made sure to dress up well for the occasion. you could already expect the shower of compliments he might give you, like “oh, i love your dress. take a little spin for me” or “you smell so good”. something that would be very “alex” to say.

your cell phone vibrated, indicating that a message had arrived. in a rush, you rummaged through your purse, thinking it was a message from him.

“did he arrive?” you let your eyebrows fall when you saw it was a message from your best friend.

“not yet.” you answered, trying to sound optimistic. there is still time, he could arrive at any moment. your stomach was churning with anxiety, you resisted the urge to bite your freshly painted wine nails.

she didn't say anything else and neither did you, closing your hand around your phone and supporting your body weight on your other leg while you placed one hand on your waist.

you looked around once more, taking a few steps ahead, not having a right direction to go. you're bored. distracted. nervous. anxious. like you’re going to explode like a dynamite. you needed to relax your mind a little.

you took a few steps closer to the parking lot, seeing how empty it was. you could count 8 cars there and 3 motorcycles. better, 4 motorcycles, since one was just arriving through the adjacent entrance.

your eyes followed that motorcycle until it stopped, parking in the reserved space. it wasn't that dark despite some broken light bulbs in the parking lot, but you could recognize that the model of the bike was a kawasaki. maybe a W800. not that you're an expert, but do you remember that your uncle had a motorcycle just like that. he said he loved the motorcycle more than his own wife. isn't it surprising that they have divorced.

back to what you're seeing, the motorcyclist got off after placing the motorcycle's foot on the ground, securing it so that the motorcycle remained upright and without any risk of falling. the black leather jacket hugged his body just right, the dark jeans didn't seem to be that tight on his lower body, just accentuating the curves of his thighs. and wow, what an ass.

his back was turned the whole time. he carefully removed his helmet, combing his hair back, but he didn't seem satisfied with the result when he looked at his own reflection in a car window. so, he pulled out a small comb that was in his back pocket, combing his hair back until he thought it looked presentable enough, slicked back to the last hair.

he put the comb inside his pocket and pulled out his phone from the front pocket. your heart raced. coud be him?

your phone vibrated in your hand. you looked at the screen, a message from alex popped on your screen.

‘’i’m here.’’

you froze in place, like your feet were glued on the floor. you looked back at the exact moment he turned around.

yeah, it was him.

fuck, fuck, fuck. it was him.

alex was more intimidating in person. not in a bad way, though.

he wasn't that tall. but well, you didn't expect him to be as tall as a lamppost either. he was tall enough to make you stand on your tiptoes if you wanted to kiss him. pale skin under the streetlights, dark hair slicked back and covered in hair gel that made the shiny strands stay in place. it suited him well, although you were used to seeing him with a bit more unruly hair. but it matched his thin face, vibrant ebony eyes, thin, slightly pursed mouth. and oh, of course... the nose. the fucking charming nose. better in person. so much better.

‘’hello you.’’ he greeted you as soon as his eyes met your figure not so far from him. ‘’hope i didn't make you wait too long.’’

‘’you're here.’’ you said almost in a whisper while you put your cell phone back in your purse. you're acting a bit awkwardly, but you couldn't help it.

‘’guess i am.’’ he chuckled, standing in front of you, not knowing exactly how to greet you. he didn't want to admit that he was also nervous to see you. ‘’can i hug you?’’

‘’y-yes, of course.’’ you chuckled, watching him bend down just a little so he could hug you properly, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. you wrapped your arms around his neck, really sure that you would need to stand on your tiptoes if you wanted to be at his height.

‘’mhm, there we go. you smell so good.’’ he muttered, running his nose over your shoulder, not touching your neck. he didn't want to sound so invasive.

funny, because you've done so much over video call. and now you're here, acting awkwardly like two teenagers.

you smiled weakly. you already expected this compliment, yet you’re giggling internally. ‘‘do you like it?’’ you asked, not failing to notice that he also smelled good. something woody, accentuating the masculinity he exuded along with the freshness of the hair gel.

‘’yeah. all for me?’’ he said, taking one last deep breath before breaking the hug, letting you return to your normal posture. you chuckled, seeing him gesture with his finger for you to take a little turn. very shyly, you did so, eliciting a low whistle from him. ‘’hell, you're even better in person, i'm feeling spoiled already.’’

‘’i have to impress you, don't i?’’ you raised both eyebrows, your palms sweating as you clenched your hands against the strap of your purse.

‘’nah, that's my job. gotta impress you even more now.’’ he chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulder so you could head towards the entrance of the movie theater.

you looked over your shoulder, taking a look at the motorcycle. ‘’is that yours?’’ you pointed curiously.

‘’yep. all mine. did you like it?’’ he asked, following your gaze to the parked motorcycle. you nodded. ‘’good. i'll show you better later. if you want, i can even teach you how to drive it.’’

‘’oh, please, don't give me any ideas.’’ you chuckled, already picturing him teaching you everything, telling you the name of each component of the motorcycle, how to accelerate, or how to change gears. you could already see his big hands guiding yours on the motorcycle's handlebars.

‘’don't worry love, you'll be fine, i’ll show you everything you need to know.’’ he said, giving you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. ‘’so... do you know which movie you want to see?’’

you took a quick look at the catalog, seeing which movies were showing. none of them interested you visually speaking. you looked back at him. you didn't even need to say anything. after all, he wasn't interested in any movie either. deep down, you both knew that the movie would just be an excuse.

‘’it's ok. let's see this one.’’ he pointed to a random one, you didn't even have time to read the title because he was already holding your hand to go to the ticket office. there was no queue at all, so you didn't have to worry about that. ‘’good evening. i'll take two tickets for that movie over there.’’ he said to the clerk, who had a bored look on his face while he was fiddling with his cell phone.

you were already opening your purse to get your wallet when alex glanced at you, frowning immediately.

‘’what are you doing?’’ he asked, holding your wrist, making you stop and look at him.

‘’i'm going to…’’ you pointed to the ticket office. ‘’pay for my ticket.’’

he looked at you, almost dumbfounded. then, he laughed softly, shaking his head.

‘’none of that. leave it to me.’’ he said. you felt kind of stupid because he acted and said it like it was something unacceptable.

‘’alex, i'm used to paying for my ticket, it's ok…’’ you told him, not really caring, but he shook his head again. well, if you were stubborn, he made sure to be worse than you.

‘’used to it? damn, did those blokes made you pay for your ticket?’’ he asked, genuinely concerned, taking his wallet out of his front pocket.

you didn't answer. there was no need to answer since he was right. you had already lost count of how many bad dates you had been on and how many times you had had to pay for your ticket. it was ridiculous to think about it sometimes.

his frown softened as did his voice. ‘’not with me, hm? now be good and sit over there while i finish up here.’’ he said, letting go of your wrist and pointing to one of the cushioned chairs in the hall. ‘’do you want popcorn? soda?’’

‘’no, i'm good.’’ you answered.

‘’mints?’’ he pointed to the glass candy display. you nodded softly, deciding to accept at least a mint gum. you were already feeling weird enough for letting him pay for your ticket. it was unusual for you.

you made your way to one of the chairs, sitting there, crossing your leg while your purse rested on your lap. your phone vibrated again, and you already knew who it was.

‘’should i call the police?’’ your friend's message made you laugh softly, your fingers typing the reply quickly.

‘’you should call the fireman. god, you have no idea how hot he is.’’

she sent you a bunch of emojis, asking for more details. of course you could tell her enough, but not everything. and you wouldn't do it now.

you heard a whistle, seeing that alex was waiting for you with the two tickets in his hand. you stood up, putting your phone away and going to him. ‘’he said that the next session starts in ten minutes, we can get in there if we want.’’ he said, handing you the package with mints.

‘’good, we can find a good place to sit then.’’ you said, holding the packet of mints in your hand, not wanting to open it for now.

alex guided the way, his hand always holding yours as you made your way down the dark hallway to the dimly lit room, the large white screen seemed to hover over you as you climbed the carpeted stairs, being careful not to trip. he scanned the place, not that it was very crowded, just a few people spread out in different places in the seats. he wanted a spot that he knew no one would pay attention to you.

‘’there. sounds great?’’ he pointed to a spot in the first few chairs, right at the top. you nodded, following him until you reached the seats, he let you go first to sit in the chair on the left while he sat to your left. ‘’it's a good spot, hm?’’ he commented to you, taking a look from his point of view, seeing that it was hard for anyone to notice you there. you were sitting almost under the projector, so probably not even the projectionist would be able to see you there.

‘’mhmm, really good.’’ you said, opening the package of mints, putting one in your mouth, feeling the freshness invade your mouth almost instantly. ‘’want one?’’ you asked, handing the package to him.

he alternated his gaze between you and the package, your expecting eyes on him the whole time.

‘’yeah, but... i don't want any of those.’’ he answered and you already felt your throat close up a little. ‘’i want yours. can i have it?’’

fuck, that's it. it's your chance. don't fuck it up.

‘’yeah.’’ you answered, glancing at his arm passing over your shoulder. your stomach seemed to tie a double knot, your heart was beating so fast it felt like you were going to have a heart attack at any moment.

before your eyes could register, his lips touched yours tenderly, savoring the first contact as much as possible, like touching the grass after a rain on a calm afternoon, the smell of wet soil invading your lungs with force while you felt like a flower blooming on the first day of spring.

he was calm, but intense. you couldn't explain it, you could only feel every sensation he brought you with that simple kiss as he tried to taste your mouth when the tip of his tongue passed over your bottom lip. you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding when the kiss deepened, he explored the confines of your mouth as much as he could, swirling his tongue around yours, the mint candy passing from one mouth to the other in an almost frantic manner. his hand tightened on your shoulder, bringing you closer. you didn't even know what to do with your hands, keeping them gripping the arm of the seat.

you broke the kiss when you were forced to take a breath, panting softly, the candy had disappeared from your mouth, leaving only the slight burn of mint on your taste buds. but still, the taste of his kiss prevailed.

‘’wow.’’ he was the first to break the silence, running his thumb over your bottom lip, cleaning the trace of saliva from there. ‘’i think i accidentally swallowed the candy.’’

you chuckled, not really caring about it, your mind in a spiral, his kiss fresh on your lips like fresh paint. ‘’there's more here if you want it.’’ you replied, watching him shake his head slightly, his eyes drinking in your almost silhouette in the low light of the movie theater, he heard murmurs around, but nothing that took his attention away from you.

‘’maybe later, love. it was just an excuse for me to be able to kiss you.’’ he whispered, pecking your lips, making you practically beg for more as you tilted your head towards him, searching for his lips like a magnet. he let out a small chuckle. ‘’did you like it that much?’’

‘’you're a good kisser.’’ you admitted quietly. he really was a good kisser. you didn't know if it was because of your bad kissing history, but you also didn't want to burn your neurons thinking about it. you wanted his kiss again. and again. and again.

and he would be more than happy to give it to you.

he kissed you again, his lips searching for the perfect rhythm, still trying to fit together as precisely as a jigsaw puzzle. his breathing was heavy, the air exhaled through his nose and hit your cheek, the texture of his wet lips against yours brought you the feeling of being completely ecstatic as he moved his tongue, as if he was inviting yours to a slow dance.

his right hand passed over yours, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles and fingers, sliding over the silver ring you had on your middle finger. you sighed softly when the hand that was on top of yours rested on your bare knee. before you could break the kiss again due to lack of air, a loud noise echoed through the speakers spread throughout the movie theater, startling both of you. oh, damn trailers.

‘’you good?’’ he asked, merely amused that you were startled by it, both of his hands rubbing your shoulder and knee simultaneously.

‘’yeah, just... unexpected.’’ you chuckled, feeling his lips pressing a small kiss on your forehead, giving you time to recover and maybe get in the mood again as the trailers played on the huge screen.

you felt comfortable enough to lay your head on his shoulder, the strands of your hair tickling his nose as he turned his face to place a tender kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, inhaling the scent of your shampoo on your soft locks, almost burying his face there.

‘’i love how you smell. really.’’ he said softly, as if he was admitting more to himself than to you. he couldn't help it, as if everything inside him was succumbing to you. he didn't expect this on a first date, but he wasn't trying hard to stop it either.

‘’hm?’’ you asked, moving your head so you could look at him, waiting for him to repeat himself because you really hadn't heard, the sound of the voices from the movie forced him to speak louder or get closer to your ear.

but he didn't answer you. he kissed you instead, feeling the sweetness of your lips pressed against his. this almost made him groan, his desire increasing with each caress exchanged, with each miserable sigh you let out. the hand that was on your knee went up to your thigh, feeling more precisely how soft your skin was. the feeling stretched the smile on his lips.

‘’just the way i imagined. god, you have no idea how much i wanted to touch you like this. how much i craved this...’’ he whispered between your lips, feeling your warm breath hitting his lips. you were already numb, if you weren't sitting down, you were definitely on the floor, your senses seemed to be reduced to dust at this moment. ‘’so soft…’’ he whispered again, sinking his fingers into the warm flesh of your thigh, threatening to advance under your dress.

‘’alex…’’ you whispered back, your voice a mix of desire and nervousness. and as always, he knew it.

‘’is it okay if i touch you?’’ he asked, his head tilted back so he could look you in the eyes, seeking the assurance that it would be okay if he continued. you nodded, your desire speaking louder than any other insecurity or fear. you mentally thanked yourself for having shaved during the shower. not that you were expecting it, but... well, you were.

he kept his face close to yours, watching every single expression as his hand inched closer, your heat radiating more and more as you bit your lip in anticipation and excitement. he palmed your core, raising his eyebrows in a slight surprise.

‘’fuck, baby. soaked already. i didn't even do anything.’’ he let out in a sly tone, his fingers collecting your wetness over your panties, almost making you whine. he was delicate, he wanted to discover everything about you little by little, despite having already seen your cunt on video call. but it was different in person.

he teased you over the thin and wet material, almost feeling your folds molding in the panties, sticking and soaking even more when he found your clit, the bud marking the spot for being so swollen and needy.

instantly, it was like a switch had turned in his head. he didn't want to touch you anymore. he wanted to taste you. eat you. devour you.

you watched as he got on his knees on the carpeted floor, crawling that narrow and tight hallway just to stand in front of you. you widen your eyes a bit, getting a little alarmed by the idea.

‘’what are you going to do?’’

‘’gonna eat you out, babe. no one will see me, i promise. only you.’’ he answered, his hands going to your knees, looking up at you. your face was lit only by the movie screen, the flashes illuminating your insecure expressions more and more. ‘’need to taste you, please.’’

please. again.

your hands itched. you wanted this so much, so much. but you were also scared, a huge impasse. a voice in your head told you to go and another told you not to go. but oh, those big puppy eyes looking up at you was your undoing.

‘’okay.’’ you agreed, lifting your hips so he could take off your panties, each act increased the flow of adrenaline running through your veins, your body heated up as well as the rest of your organism as he held your knees, spreading your legs for him.

he held your panties, his fist closing around the lace, feeling the gluey wetness against his palm, making his cock twitch inside his jeans. he was hungry. so hungry for you.

‘’closer.’’ he urged, pulling your hips, leaving your ass almost off the chair, your body in a position almost lying on the armchair, your eyes wandering around before returning to him, his breath creeping up on your thigh. ‘’that's it, baby. you okay?’’ he asked, wanting one last confirmation that everything was okay with you before he continued.

‘’mhm... taste me, al. please.’’ you whispered to him, lust filled eyes looking down at him in a silent plea.

and nothing else was needed. no words, no encouragement. it was like the starting gun for alex to just bury his face between your legs, his greedy tongue sliding along your vulva, from bottom to top, collecting your juices. it was like he was tasting a drink for the first time. but it wasn't like he was eating pussy for the first time. but it was your pussy. it was different. he didn't know exactly what it was, but it was different, it made him want to get drunk, to drown in your ocean.

‘’my god, so fucking good…’’ he mumbled against your folds, moving his lips up to suck your clit, sucking so hard that you closed your legs around his head with equal force, your hands gripped the armrest of the seats until the blood stopped circulating in your hands, turning it white. “sorry, did i hurt you?” he paused, looking up at you.

“n-no, you were just... hasty.” you replied after blinking a few times, loosening the grip of your legs around his head, feeling the soft touch of his hands on your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart again, keeping his hands there to hold you in case you close them again.

“sorry. gonna take it slow for you, honey.” he apologized, feeling a little guilty for having done that on the first contact.

but it was a little difficult for him to control himself. since he saw you last time, he had lost count of how many times he fucked his own fist imagining himself like that, rubbing his face in your pussy, sucking, licking, biting, touching every single inch of that area. it was like a personal achievement.

now, he knew he needed to take it slow. he wanted to make it good for you, to make you whimper his name and reduce you to a mess in that seat. he looked up at you, taking the sight of your scrunched face, your eyes leaving his to look around, making sure no one was looking.

god, he had such a good tongue. you were already sure of that when he kissed you, but you really weren't expecting it to be even better as he lapped your folds calmly, but with that hint of hunger deep down. he mumbled something that you didn't even hear or try to understand, your head falling back slightly, your saliva running down your throat with difficulty. then, he tapped your thigh, catching your attention.

“can you do me a favor, love?” he asked, taking a breath that he didn't even know he needed, his lips were already starting to get swollen. “give me a mint.” he pointed to the package next to you. you looked back at him, deciphering what he was thinking of doing. “you'll like it, trust me.”

and you trusted him.

you took a candy from the package carefully, the green tiny ball stayed in the palm of your hand until you brought it to your mouth. he hummed in gratitude, feeling the freshness mixing with the taste of your pussy on his tongue.

you felt your heart pounding against your chest, your face boiling red. he was no different, and for him it was a little worse, because he already felt that familiar feeling in the lower region, his jeans getting tighter at every moment. he wanted to release, he needed it. but he wanted to take care of you first.

his tongue meets your meaty slimy folds once again, you gasped when you felt it burn a little, but not in a bad way. it was a cooling burn, like an ice cube sliding up and down your pussy, making the mint press on your clit while he slobbered on your cunt like a starving man.

“good?” he muttered to you, looking up. you were a mess, shaking and squirming at his ministrations.

“s-so good, please… more.” you babbled as he gave a smirk at your answer. his thumb moved to press on your clit, feeling it pulsing, craving, almost screaming his name.

“i'm gonna ruin it.” you whispered, afraid that you would mess up his perfectly slicked back hair.

“gonna give you more, baby. your pussy is so delicious, holy shit.” his filthy mouth only sent shivers down your spine, the freshness and the eager way he eats you out made you see stars before your eyes, little twinkling dots as you felt a knot forming at the pit of your belly. you trembled, your hands gripping the arms of the seat, needing to ground yourself. “my hair, sweetie. you can grab it.” he hummed, holding your wrists, bringing your hands to his hair, the hair gel felt cool in your palms.

“i don't fucking care. make a mess, babe.” his voice sounded almost harsh as his hands returned to your plushy thighs, his sloppy tongue moving across your labia and clit, making your cunt pulse in an overwhelming rhythm.

it all seemed too much for you. the adrenaline, the hunger, the filthy words infesting your mind. your eyes rolled back as you gripped his greasy hair, a few strands falling down his sweaty forehead. you couldn't hold on for any longer.

“al, 'm gonna cum…” you choked as your hips bucked, almost like you're trying to run away from his mouth.

“fuck yes, come on my mouth, please, please…” he grunted, your words settling in his mind like a command. he grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place, his rolling tongue snaking through your folds and teasing your gaping entrance before your entire body shook, your back arching in the chair in an erotic way as your thighs clamped shut as you trembled, milking on his tongue.

you gasped for air, your fingers still clenching in his hair as he drank every last drop of your release, sucking it all in like he was a vacuum cleaner until he lifted his head again, his mouth coated and glistening, totally covered in you.

“fuck, i can't explain…” he breathed out. he almost came in his pants at that, as embarrassing as it was for him to admit. he wouldn't even dare palm himself now, any touch now would be dangerous and he would have a lot of work to clean it up later. “so fucking good, i swear. god, it was better than i imagined.”

you let out a breathless laugh, taking the sight of him on his knees, his forehead resting on your knee for a second as he caught his breath.

“i need to fuck you.”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words. you were never the type of person to have sex on the first date. but no, you weren't going to deny it. not when you wanted it as much as he did. not when he was different.

“and i need you to fuck me.”

the movie theater was behind you as your hurried footsteps made your way outside. your heart was beating as fast as your steps, you were even walking faster than him, his hand holding yours while the other hand still held your panties inside his closed fist. yeah, you didn't even bother to put it on. it’s not like you're going to need it now.

“motel?” he asked you. you shook your head. your adventurous spirit was at its peak now, and besides... you trusted him, but not enough to let him take you to a motel.

“no, i was thinking about…” you said, stopping when you got close to his motorcycle. at this point, it was the only motorcycle parked there, and there were only three other cars there, all considerably far from where you were.

“here?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows. he looked around. it was a quiet spot. it wasn't as well lit as the rest of that almost deserted parking lot. ‘’on my bike?’’ he asked again as he saw you leaning to support your weight a little on the leather seat. you swallowed a little, not knowing if he thought it was a good idea. or if he wouldn't like it.

‘’we don't have to…’’

‘’i want to.’’ alex approached you, putting his helmet on the ground near the front wheel of the bike and you did the same with your purse. he caged you between his body and the motorcycle, his arms on either side of your body, the heat of his body transmitting to yours. ‘’i just think you deserve to be fucked in a bed.’’

again, his words seemed to light a flame inside you. ‘’we can leave it for next time. i really like your bike.’’ you giggled, feeling his nose touching your cheek as he kissed your jaw. he smiled against your skin. you’re already thinking about the next time.

‘’course you did, huh? alright then. gonna fuck you from behind, what do you think?’’ he suggested, making you spin on your heels, your lower belly touching the leather seat, feeling his hard cock almost poking your ass if it weren't for the layers of clothes getting in the way. you could feel how thick he is. just like in the photos and videos.

alex didn't want to waste time. he handed you your panties so you could hold them yourself, soon having his hands free to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his jeans, putting his hand inside his boxers to take out his pulsing and aching length of that tightness that felt like a prison.

he pumped his cock a few times while his other hand was lost inside his pants pocket, taking his wallet to take out a condom from inside.

‘’i can't see a damn thing.’’ he complained softly, searching for the foil package in the compartments of his wallet, finally finding it after a thorough search, ripping the packaging with his teeth and rolling it on his cock. ‘’you good?'' he asked, kissing your bare shoulder, his body molding against yours like a lego piece fitting together.

‘’mhmm, can't wait…’’ you nodded eagerly, bending your body a bit more on the motorcycle, feeling him lift the hem of your dress a bit, almost twisting the fabric as he closed his fist against it to keep it above your tailbone.

‘’such a greedy girl, huh? all shy when you saw me and now you're practically begging me to fuck you on top of my motorcycle.’’ he teased you, sliding his already condom-covered cock through your sticky folds before lining his fat tip at your entrance. ‘’are you a virgin?’’

‘’no.’’ you answered without having to think much.

‘’good.’’ he replied. not that he would have a problem if you were, but he felt like he would have to be a lot more careful. and that it should preferably be in a bed and not on top of a motorcycle.

god, you both were on fire. all the video calls, all the times he masturbated in front of the camera for you, all the nights he daydreamed about you, none of it came close to this moment. he have you, all of you, including your pussy, all to himself so he could fuck you senseless.

his tip slowly nudged and stretched you, an almost pathetic moan dared to escape your lips as you balanced yourself, letting your weight fall on the bike. he almost let a whine escape as he felt the warmth of your pussy. god, he couldn't even measure how much he wanted this, how much he had desired this since the moment he saw you.

‘’ready?’’ he asked one last time, his breath threatening to fail, his cock was already aligned, he just needed to push, your pussy was so wet from your own wetness and his spit from earlier.

‘’please…’’ you whined, looking at him over your shoulder, feeling his hand go to your waist to squeeze and bring some stability to him.

so, he didn't hold back. alex tortuously stretched your cunt as he began thrusting deliciously slowly, his bulky cock pushing past your tight gummy walls until he bottomed out.

‘’fuck.’’ he said between gritted teeth at the feeling of your pussy already clenching around him, so tightly that it was almost hard to move. ‘’sure you’re not a virgin? so fucking tight.’’

you could chuckle at his words if you weren’t trying to get used to him. ‘’you're the one who's too much for me.’’ you replied. you weren't used to this. when you saw his cock on the screen of your laptop, you knew it was big, but you didn't know you'd have to work to accommodate it, you didn't know he'd stretch you so much.

‘’easy, baby. let me in.’’ he coaxed you. ‘’shit, you're so…’’ he grunted again, swallowing thickly. he didn't know if it was because he was really horny for that moment or if it was because you were really tight. maybe both.

your hands gripped the leather of the seat, your palms sweating more as you tried to relax for him, letting alex pump his cock in and out of you, your cunt swallowing and sucking him up, almost trapping him inside you.

‘’yeah, just like this, doing so good, let me fuck you good, hm?’’ he whispered in your ear, kissing your earlobe, starting to thrust at a gradually increasing pace. he released your dress, bringing his hand to your cheek, pinching it slightly, making your skin flush where he pinched.

‘’fuck, you feel so good, so thick…’’ you gasped, your eyes getting glassy because while it felt good, it was also too much for you. he smiled cockily at your praise, holding your chin with his thumb and index finger, making you turn your face so you could look at him.

‘’yeah, baby? do you like my cock? it's so much better in person, hm? you're sucking him whole already.’’ he mumbled, pounding into your pussy with purpose. your eyes closed shut, an almost pornographic moan escaping your lips.

alex could scold you not to moan so loud because they were in public, but fuck, he liked it. he loved watching you practically cry while he fucked you dumb like he hated you. he loved praise you. and you loved being praised. not by anyone, but by him.

this was definitely the most intense, rough and nasty sex you had ever experienced. and you didn't know how much you loved it until you felt his cock filling your warm and wet cunt, you didn't know if the squeaking sound was because of the bike rocking to your rhythm or if it was your pussy that was so wet it was starting to squish.

you whimpered when his hand wrapped around your throat, the cold metal of his ring pressed right into your windpipe making you want to cough amidst your moans. his belt buckle hit your thigh, the tingling sound echoing through your ears as he thrusted hard into you, your greedy pussy was already creaming him to the brim, his abs tensed with the familiar feeling of an approaching climax.

you started to feel that pressure building right below your belly button, your knees threatening to fail, and his grip tightened on your waist, keeping you up. alex angled his hips, hitting your spot right on target, making you mewl, closing your eyes shut. he watched your face, knowing he had hit it. so he did it again. and again. and again.

‘’gonna cum for me again?’’ he asked with a satisfied smile on his lips, seeing you nodding immediately. ‘’yeah?’’' and he hitted that spot again, rolling his hips, the soft skin of your ass slapping against his pelvis, you could feel that region of him more assertively, feeling that the area had been trimmed. no pubic hair. at least not now on this first date.

‘’gonna cum for you, al, i'm gonna-’’ you stammered, almost letting a bit of saliva escape your mouth. you were so fucked up in a literal way, you could barely remember where you were and what day it was.

you clenched hard around his cock, almost making him stop. he let out a whimper. oh god, a whimper. you've heard him moan before, but they were rough, throaty moans. it was a whimper, a plea, a sign that he was getting sensitive and that he would cum at any moment, just waiting for you.

alex kissed your neck, doing his best not to leave visible marks on you, sinking inside you with lazy and sloppily thrusts, his fat tip hitting your cervix over and over again. your smell mixed with sweat felt like something heavenly, making him want to live in your skin, live inside you forever if it meant continuing to have this feeling.

your eyes rolled as you felt your orgasm hitting you like a bullet. your toes curled, your legs closed and your knees gave out as you whined, but he thrusted harder, forcing you to stand up again to finish, you squealed at how deliciously rough he was with you.

‘’wish i could fill you up with my cum, baby.’’ he groaned, his words already tying his own mind in knots, a chill ran through his body like electricity at the thought of filling you with his cum, marking you with it to the brim, and that was enough for him to cum, his hot cum shooting up your walls, being contained by the condom. you felt everything heat up even more inside you. ‘’mmm fucking hell…’’ he exhaled, his body stopping completely when he felt there was nothing left to come out, he had already emptied himself completely inside you. or rather, the condom.

you were shaking, still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm, feeling him loosen his grip on your throat, his fingers running through your hair, removing some from your sweaty face.

‘’are you okay?’’ he asked, searching your face. you licked your puffy pouty lips, a fucked out expression plastered on your face as a low chuckle escaped.

‘’yeah. i just need some time.’’ you admitted. he hummed in agreement.

‘’i'm gonna pull out, okay?’’ he announced softly, his hand on your waist lightly caressing you with his thumb as he disconnected from you, you hissed at the feeling. your sore pussy was already used to him as if it no longer made sense not to feel him filling you anymore. ‘’there you go, babe.’’ he cooed, massaging your lower back as you took a breath and found the strength to stand up.

he discarded the used condom, his sensitive and sticky cock was already inside his boxers. you turned around to see him, he was a fucking sight to behold. he smiled at you, a fucked out expression was also tattooed on his face along with his messy hair.

‘’what?’’ he asked, buckling his belt again.

‘’you're so hot.’’ you said almost in a whisper.

‘’uh oh. you're flattering me already.’’ he chuckled, almost shy at your compliment, circling his arms around you, caressing your exhausted body. alex kissed the top of your head, acting so delicate like he wasn’t fucking you like you’re a slut minutes ago. ‘’that was amazing, really. you are amazing.’’

you smiled, letting him spread sweet kisses over the top of your head. it wasn't like an aftercare in bed, with cuddles and a hot bath afterwards, but it was enough for you now. he was enough for you now.

‘’want some water?' i can buy some for us.’’ he asked you. you shook your head, even though your throat was dry now, you didn't want to bother him. he could sense it. ‘’you’re so stubborn.’’ he grumbled in a playful way, breaking the hug. ‘’be right back.’’

you laughed foolishly, watching him go back to the movie theater. you took the opportunity to put your panties back on, the lace panties were in your hand the whole time and you couldn't stay without your underwear all the time. alex came back with a bottle of cold water for you a few minutes later. you drank half of the bottle, leaving the other half for him. he let out a satisfied sigh when he finished, throwing the plastic bottle in the trash.

‘’can i take you home?’’

you thought about the offer. your parents couldn't even dream of seeing you arrive on a motorcycle owned by a 'stranger' but you also didn't want to turn down his ride.

‘’sure.’’ you smiled at him, accepting the ride. alex had an extra helmet that he kept under the seat of his motorcycle. not that he always took someone with him, it was more for occasional situations like this.

soon enough, you were on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist. alex would sometimes accelerate exaggeratedly just to irritate you, your voice almost shrill amidst the frenzy of the streets telling him to slow down. he laughed and you laughed along, pinching his belly over the fabric of his shirt as you felt him speeding his bike through the streets. you loved the adrenaline, the wind cutting through your face partially covered by the helmet and the low sound of his laughter when you told him to slow down a little.

you had already hitched a ride on a motorcycle a few times, but now, somehow, it felt different. as if your body next to his warmed you up more than usual as you held on tight to him whenever he accelerated after the traffic light turned green.

and this heat got worse when you looked at him in the right rearview mirror, seeing that the helmet covered part of his face, leaving only his eyes focused on the traffic visible, his huge nose and a small part of his upper lip. you have to say that you had a certain kind of meltdown when he caught you looking at him by looking at your reflection in the mirror.

soon, he was parking his motorcycle next to your house, you asked him to drop you off a few houses earlier so as not to run any risks. deep down, you wished he would take longer to get there, but you didn't dare say it out loud as you handed the helmet back to him. there was still a hint of afterglow in the air as he put the helmet back in silence.

‘’so, did you like the movie?’’ he asked in a playful way. obviously he wasn't referring to the movie. you giggled.

‘’yeah. very much.’’ you smiled at him, feeling his arms back to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

‘’i loved it. i loved meeting you. you're so fucking prettier in person.’’ he said, taking in the sight of you under the amber streetlight.

he couldn't help but want to kiss you, making you have to tilt your face so your head wouldn't hit the visor of his helmet. you could taste yourself in his mouth, but you weren't the least bit worried about it, wanting to savor this moment before he left.

‘’i'll see you next week?’’ he asked after breaking the kiss, his face still close to yours.

‘’next week?’’ you asked, blinking a few times.

‘’yeah. there's going to be a get-together at the pub where i work next saturday.’’ he replied, making an informal invitation to you.

you needed to think a little. you didn't usually go to pubs, much less at night. you really needed to think before accepting. he smiled at you, pinching your cheek.

‘’don't worry, you'll have time to think. but the entrance is free.’’ he pecked your lips one last time. ‘’and i'll make sure to make the best margarita you've ever had in your life.’’

a/n: riiiiight. this is my first note here after post something, just a taglist for my babe 'cause she asked me to: @thenightslikeawhirlwind

(let me know if you want to be tagged too :3)

#doctor says #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x you #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner

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sh1gglypuff · 2 months ago

Text

City of Stars

…are you shining just for me?

ahead: female or suggested female reader, mild suggestive content, pain

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Kenma!” you call out into the vast house. Your voice reverberated off of the walls and bounced back to you, the white walls illuminated by the evening glow. You dropped your bag along with your keys by the door, kicking your shoes off and making your way through your home. “Kenma?” you called again.

It was almost 2am. Your newest film had premiered that evening, you walking the red carpet in a gown with a price so high you refused to think about it. You had that privilege, not needing to think about the price tags on things such as that. The after party raged on through the night, and you were coming home tired and a little tipsy after your evening out.

You were high off of nothing but your own success and glamour. The movie was going to be a hit, you knew it and everyone else knew it too. Your agent thinks you’re a shoo-in for an Oscar because of your performance and you hate to admit this out loud but, you agree.

“I’ve been calling your name, did you not hear me?” you say, entering the master bedroom loudly.

“I heard you.”

“I had the best evening Kenma truly. Oh I really think this is going to be it for me. This movie is what’s going to sell…” you continue to ramble on as you sit on your side of the bed opposite of him and take off your stacks of jewelry. He offers small hums and nods as you do.

“I had a poptart for dinner,” he says as your chatter dies down. You frown at him.

“Kenma our kitchen is full of food is it not?”

“It’s not,” he says monotone.

“Well…you could have ordered food. Or god forbid…gone out!” you fake a gasp as you say this. He doesn’t like when you mock him like this.

“I don’t like going out. Especially not recently since everyone knows I’m your boyfriend now,” he turns on his side to face the wall.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I hate attention. When I go out people ask me a million questions. It makes me feel nauseous.” After he finishes saying this you get up and walk towards the bathroom. You look back at him, him facing you with his eyes closed.

“Can you unzip my dress?” you ask. You don’t think he’s heard you at first until he nods simply, opening his eyes and sitting up. He gestures for you to come over and you walk closer to him, turning around and letting him place his slender fingers on the zipper of your dress. He unzips it slowly, stopping midway. He remembers unzipping a dress of yours for you years ago, his hands shaking with anticipation. That was when you were nothing but a struggling actress in Los Angeles, desperately looking for any sort of work. That was when he felt wanted. That was before everything changed.

Kenma wishes he could be happy. He feels like that would be the only normal reaction. He is happy you’re living your dream, the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve these past years in this city. He’s happy for you. He loves you. He unzips the rest of your dress.

With the back of your dress unzipped you turn to him, placing your hands on his chest. You kiss his lips, softly at first then beginning to make your kisses fall with more desperation. At first Kenma wraps his hands in your hair as the two of you fall onto the bed. Your hands wander down his torso, a hand slipping under his shirt and-

“Stop! Stop…” Kenma suddenly says, pulling away. You quickly remove your hands from his body. “I don’t…want to.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Your face is flushed with worry. Kenma shakes his head.

“I’m sorry I’m…just really tired right now.” You don’t question him as he says this, you just nod. You get up from the bed and head back towards the bathroom where you finish getting ready to go to sleep.

As the shower runs and the sound of your hums and harmonies sound lightly from the bathroom, Kenma cries.

Kenma can’t remember the last time he’s cried over anything, genuine sad tears. He tried not to cry too hard, trying his hardest to make sure his tears wouldn’t be obvious as you came out of the bathroom. He but his sleeved hands into his eyes, pressing lightly. He wanted to stop crying but couldn’t. He took a deep breath.

He didn’t want this life. He didn’t want to live in a big house in the hills of Hollywood and only see his girlfriend every couple of weeks. As you were on set for this last movie he got a small taste of the next however many years of his life. You, shooting movies in various locations, flying around doing press tours, walking down red carpets. He on the other hand couldn’t do a single thing without the label of your boyfriend. He couldn’t stream a game without the mention of you, couldn’t leave the house without being asked of the movie. He loves you with everything he has, but it’s just so hard.

Kenma wants to be his own person.

Kenma also wants to be in love.

You come out of the bathroom, hair tied up and makeup off. He loved you in this form. You looked genuine. It was his favorite look you had. He loved this more than your stunning red carpet looks, the looks you had on the covers of recent magazines. He loved the you only he could see. He says your name softly as you sit on the side of the bed opposite him.

“Yes?” you responded.

“I…I don’t know if this is going to work.”

The silence is deafening in Kenma’s ears. He doesn’t know how long you were quiet, he just knows it was too long. “What?” you finally say.

“Nothing, sorry.” He tries to take back what he’s already said. He realizes he can’t.

“No, what? Tell me what you mean Kenma.” You’re suddenly more alert, looking towards him with attentive and concerned eyes. Kenma tries his best to not start crying.

“Everything is different now,” he says simply. “I never see you anymore. People know you. People know me. People know me as an extension of you.”

You stare, slightly confused as to what he’s trying to get at. “Do you want to see me or not?”

Kenma looks towards you. “I do want to see you. I really and truly do-“

“Then what do you mean? Is me being known now a problem?” Your brows are furrowed.

Kenma takes a long moment to breathe, closing his eyes. He does this when he’s anxious. You could see him squeezing one of his hands. “I just- this was not the life I imagined myself having. I feel like I’ve been doing nothing. Nothing for myself at least. You…I don’t know. You’re being so swept away by a life of…fame. That’s a life that I can’t live and I feel like we’ve been on different planets. I don’t feel like part of your life at all. I feel like…the guy you don’t even think of during the day that you just happen to kiss and fuck in the evening.”

Silence fills the room again as you take in everything Kenma is saying. You have no idea what to possibly say. Do you want to fight for this? You’ve loved Kenma for years. He was right though. You did feel like you lived on a different planet. “That. That’s a large accusation”

“I’m not accusing you of anything I’m just saying how I feel.”

“I do think of you.”

“And I believe that you do. I just don’t…feel it?” Kenma wanted to say more but didn’t know how to word what he was feeling. You grip your arm tightly, thinking. You look towards the window, desperately wishing you were just asleep in his arms.

“Can we finish this tomorrow Kenma?”

“You expect me to just fall asleep? I haven’t sleep more than 3 hours in the past 4 days. I can’t stop thinking about this. I can’t stop thinking about us. I love you, so much. I really hope you know how much…I just don’t think I can keep living like this. I can’t stop being a nobody.”

“It’s your fault you’re a nobody Kenma!” you say throwing your hands in the air. His last comment set you off, everything bubbling up had suddenly came out. “You don’t have to lay around all fucking day! You can get a job! You can do things! You probably have more opportunities to do things because of me!”

“Fuck you,” is all he says. His eyes are filling with tears.

“Fuck me? Kenma I’m just stating the truth. You’re doing nothing with your life and I am. You can’t blame me for that.”

“I’m going to Kuroo’s,” Kenma states, getting out of bed. You don’t respond to that, just watch as he slides on a pair of shoes and walks out of the bedroom.

“Kenma…” you start. He doesn’t listen. He keeps walking, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. You could run after him. You could have done everything to make him stay. You don’t.

6 Years Later

You were the biggest name in Hollywood. You had gotten what you had always dreamed of. You had starred in movies that topped charts, had multiple oscars under your belt, and the most perfect fiancé you could ask for.

Kenma was sitting at a cafe, computer open and glasses resting on his face. Kenma had his own business. A successful one. He had made a name for himself, one without you. He sipped lightly on his coffee as the door rings open. He doesn’t look up, focused on his work.

He hears murmurs from around the cafe, confused he peers to what people are staring at. It’s you.

“Thank you,” you say with your famous smile. You take the coffee from the shaking barista and turn. You see Kenma. He sees you. He puts a hand out to wave. You nod your head.

He watches as you walk out of the cafe. The chatter of the room reaches its peak then dies down to what is was before.

That interaction lasted maybe a minute, but it kept Kenma up for days.

He thought of the days he had spent loving you. The evenings he had spent helping you with auditions. He knew you before the world knew you. What if he had never said anything that night. What if he has just learned to adapt? Would he have married you? Would the two of you have a life unlike anything he could ever dream of?

You were getting married. You were getting married to your most recent leading make costar. Kenma has questions he knows he’ll never get the answers to. You live on different planets. Maybe you always had. Your lives are no longer intertwined. Maybe Kenma is okay with that. Maybe he will learn to be.

He smiles, staring into his now empty cup of coffee.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kozume kenma #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kuzome #kenma te amo #hq kenma #haikyuu kenma #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction

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lesbianpepsi · 2 years ago

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my love, my life

pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader

summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life

link to request

words: 4.007k (im sorry)

warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing

authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)

You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.

In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.

But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up.

You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something.

Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye.

You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.

At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four.

You blew up.

At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you.

Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows.

You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question.

Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic.

As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days.

Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.

You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting.

As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting.

Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money.

You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.

A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.

Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts.

In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role.

Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside.

In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.

You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie.

But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill.

Jenna Ortega.

You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them.

Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.

Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.

She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen.

You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna.

—————

"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room.

You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."

Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."

"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen.

It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.

You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did.

After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened.

Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.

You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be.

Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.

"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years.

Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at.

"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch.

"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face.

"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.

A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.

At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you.

"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.

Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.

"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.

Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.

"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.

As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.

He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you.

"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it.

"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.

"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation.

Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head.

She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.

"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.

You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.

You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that."

He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.

Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.

"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.

Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.

You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice.

"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes.

You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend.

"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?"

Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?"

You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese.

After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.

You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.

You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.

"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace.

"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food.

You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"

"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."

You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before.

"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you.

You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors."

Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.

He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see."

What?

"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.

She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.

A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.

"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.

"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.

"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.

"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."

You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.

"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad."

You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known.

As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.

"No." You whispered out.

"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"

Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.

"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have."

You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic.

"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.

A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.

It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.

"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly.

You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom.

"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now."

Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers.

You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.

You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.

A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently.

Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.

Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.

Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.

"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.

Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly.

"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.

You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed.

Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm.

"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice.

You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.

"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying.

Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.

"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."

You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down.

"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much."

Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.

"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.

"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down.

Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head.

"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.

You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.

Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x austisc!reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #vada cavell x reader #fluff #angst #my writing #my fan fic

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petersasteria · 1 year ago

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You're Losing Me - T.C.

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Warning/s: angsty Words: 4,155 Note: I was inspired to write my first ever timmy fic bc of @meetmyothersouls! <3

Flashing lights of the cameras and photographers calling out your name echoed the red carpet as soon as you stepped out of the limousine. You smiled brightly, excited to be attending your first red carpet event. You’re an actress that was given her big break last year and now you’re at the premier of your first ever movie starring Tom Holland and yourself. It was fun working with Tom Holland and you’ve grown closer as filming progressed. You can finally say that he’s now one of your best friends along with his girlfriend, Zendaya.

The whole time at the movie premier itself was a blur. You treasured your first ever movie, but you were way more excited for the after party. You couldn’t wait to meet new people and make new friends while you party all night.

You quickly got changed after the premiere and went straight to the after party venue. There, you saw him. Timothée Chalamet. You’ve obviously never met him before, but you always wished to be even in the same room as him and there he was, talking to Tom and Zendaya.

Tom glanced your way and motioned you to come over. “There’s Y/N!” Tom smiled.

Timothée looked in your direction and you could’ve melted right then and there. He was so magnetic. You were so drawn to him that everything began to move in slow motion. He gave you a warm smile and when you were finally with the group, he offered his hand for you to shake and simply said, “I’m Timothée. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

You shook his hand and blushed a little, “I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too! I’m a huge fan of yours.”

“Really? Because, I’m a fan of yours too. The way you portray your character is amazing and it feels real, if that makes sense. There’s no doubt that you’re very talented and I’m excited to see more of your work!” Timothée said.

“T, you don’t need to be so formal around her.” Zendaya chuckled.

“Oh, that’s alright! It’s actually pretty cute.” You giggled. Tom and Zendaya looked at each other with a knowing smile before looking back at both of you.

“Z and I will get drinks for us four. We’ll be back.” Tom said as he winked at you. You found it weird, but you shrugged it off.

“So…” you started. Timothée looked at you and asked, “Are you nervous? I don’t know, I just feel that vibe from you right now.”

“Yeah, I kind of am.” You admitted with a laugh. You sighed in relief after getting that off of your chest. Timothée laughed and said, “What are you nervous about?”

“Honestly? Seeing you made me nervous. You’re just so great and being able to stand next to you is already such an honor. You’re, like, my celebrity crush.” You told him. It surprised you how casual you were in saying all that. He was surprised to know that he was your celebrity crush.

When the after party ended, he followed you back on Instagram and asked for your number. From then on you’ve been texting non-stop. You started becoming friends and Tom was really happy for you. Turns out, he and Zendaya have been wanting to set you up with Timothée for a long time and they seized the opportunity when they found out he was invited to attend the after party.

After a year of being friends, he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of course, you said yes despite hearing many people tell you that he’s sort of a playboy. You didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was you and him. Immediately, headlines about your new relationship began to emerge. He was your first serious boyfriend and in the headlines, you were just another one of his girlfriends. It hurt that people saw you that way, but Timothée reassured you that he loves you and he’s serious about you too.

The first year of your relationship with Timothée was the best. He took you to Paris and gave you a promise ring. “I know it’s not an engagement ring and I know how much you want to get married, but I just want to give you this ring as a promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring someday.” He said as he blushed. His nose was pink because of the cold and he slipped the ring on your finger before giving your hand a kiss. You smiled at him and gave him a huge hug. “I can’t wait!” You exclaimed happily. You truly loved him with all your heart. You felt nothing but utter bliss.

Along with the first year of your relationship came some small struggles. Timothée got busier with movie projects left and right and you were struggling a bit in handling your new fame. You were lucky that Timothée was there for you to help you. You attended all of his movie premieres and he attended all of your important events too. Everyone loved both of you and even called you “couple goals”. You were supportive of each other and his fans were thankful for you for posting pictures of him often. Both of your fan bases grew from there. Despite the growing popularity, you and Timothée started a tradition. You and him decided that every Friday night would be your “indoor-catch up-dinner date”. You loved every second of it.

The second year of your relationship your acting started to boom. Soon, your name was as big as Timothée’s. Seeing as your relationship was very public, many directors always cast you and Timothée alongside each other for a more real chemistry on and off screen. Your Instagram was soon full of behind the scenes photos of you and Timothée. The fans absolutely loved it. This continued on until the fourth year of your relationship. Because of the money you both earned, both of you decided to buy a house together to move into. It was you and him against the world.

Timothée entered one of the rooms and was in awe. It was empty, but the light that shone through the window made the room more beautiful. It wasn’t the master’s bedroom, but it was special. Without thinking, Timothée looked at the realtor and said, “We’ll buy it!” You looked at him like he was crazy, “We didn’t see the other houses yet.”

“I know, but this room right here is too special to pass up. The light in here is just as gorgeous as you and y’know we could make this our game room or a date night room. We could slow dance in here or play cards or work. I’m just so excited to be spending some time with you here.” He said as he lovingly looked at you.

The fifth year of your relationship started being rocky. You never thought anything of it. Timothée did bring up the idea of not accepting projects that have something to do with you and him being together. “Oh, may I ask why?” You asked, wondering why he brought it up. “Y/N, I love you, but I miss being able to work with other people. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I loved working with you as a couple for, like, three years. We made over six movies together and I cherish every single one of them. I just want to work with someone now.” He confessed. It hurt hearing him say that, but you knew he was right. Both of you needed to grow as actors and for that to happen, you had to work with different people. You looked at him and gave him a small smile, “Alright. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, he was casted in a lot of movies with different people and you decided to widen your range. You walked on runways, you starred in commercials, you guested on podcasts, and you starred in music videos. You were always present when Timothée had a premiere, but he started lessening his public appearances with you at your events. Everyone didn’t seem to notice. Maybe because his projects were overshadowing yours or maybe because your important events didn’t seem as important as his. You didn’t mind, though. You just longed for him to be next to you.

In your sixth year, a video of Timothée went viral when an interviewer asked about you and his smile dropped a bit and said, “Y/N’s doing great. I’m happy for all her achievements. As much as I want to talk about her, I’d like to focus on the film please. That’s what we’re all here for, anyway.”

Meanwhile, a video compilation of you talking about Timothée went viral. Many fans noted how different you two are. Many say you didn’t deserve him. Others say that you’re too clingy for Timothée’s liking. You decided to post on your Instagram story, defending Timothée.

You defended him a lot more times after that.

You got nothing in return, though.

You stared at the promise ring on your finger during your seventh year and wondered when Timothée would propose. You were experiencing the seven year itch; it’s your make it or break it year as a couple. Many fans speculated a break up after seeing Timothée do nothing. You still defended him amidst all negativity. You posted him all the time and he only posted you once on your birthday. You were growing tired, but you faced every single day with a smile on your face, hoping to trick yourself into being your usual self.

Timothée started bailing on your Friday night dates, often choosing to party with his friends to celebrate something that didn’t concern you. You still cooked and made the whole place look nice, though. You didn’t know why. Maybe deep down you knew that your relationship is in shambles and that you needed to convince yourself that everything’s fine. You knew many people were questioning Timothée’s love for you and in an effort to save his reputation, you took a picture of all the food you prepared and posted it on Instagram with the caption: tim may be out with his friends now, but he made sure to cook these for me before leaving. thank you, my love.

You didn’t know what hurt you most: the fact that you did that or the fact that Timothée liked the post and commented “no problem. Anything for you. Enjoy.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Timothée arrived home when you were silently crying. You felt the bed dip down on his side and he whispered, “Thanks for the food. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”

You made it through another year. It’s your eighth year dating Timothée and he still hasn’t made his promise come true. However, you drowned yourself in your work. So much so, that you were even busier than Timothée now. Headlines were vile, though. Timothée was out of the country filming his new movie and you attended red carpets on your own. Many people compared your relationship with Tom and Zendaya. Many people attacked you for Timothée’s lack of presence.

“Y/N! It’s so great to see you. How do you feel that Timothée is not here with you on your special day? You’ve been nominated as Best Actress in your new film, but Timothée is nowhere to be found.” The interviewer asked.

“He’s out of the country filming for his new movie, actually! I’m extremely happy for him. He’s been truly blessed.” You smiled brightly at the interviewer despite feeling sick to your stomach as you had to put up an act in front of the interviewer.

“Well, I’m sure he would make time for you. Tom Holland always finds a way to support Zendaya on the red carpet all the time. Why can’t Timothée do the same?”

“Um,” You started. You feel so uncomfortable right now. “I don’t think you should compare my relationship with others because every relationship is different. Timothée supports me too in his own way. He’s a silent cheerleader, always has been and I accept him for it. Thank you.” You said before walking away. You wanted to cry.

After that, Timothée never even called or texted to ask if you were okay and how the event went. You entered the room you and Timothée loved and sat alone in the dark and cried. You were so tired of feeling this way, but you loved him with all your heart.

Your ninth year comes around and you find yourself glaring at Timothée almost always. You were just waiting for him to break up with you already so you could move on with your life. However, Timothée has been spending time with you a lot lately which made it hard for you to get mad at him. Even if what he’s doing is the bare minimum. He’s been taking you out on dates, he was bringing back the Friday night catch-ups, he’s posting you more on social media, and he even took a break from acting just to be with you on set. It gave the fans joy. It gave news outlets something to report about. Most of all, it gave you hope. Maybe the old him is finally back for good.

During your tenth year, a lot of people were confused. Everyone thought you’d be married with children by now. An interview of you and Timothée from ten years ago recently went viral. In the video, the interviewer asked you and Timothée where your relationship stands in ten years. Timothée, in the video, simply answered, “probably still together” with a small chuckle. You, on the other hand, excitedly said, “by then we’d most likely be married for about five years with two or three young children”. The fan who posted the short clip on Twitter captioned it with: it’s been ten years, but nothing happened at all i hope my parents are okay :((

Your body language has been on autopilot for a while now. In front of the cameras, you smiled brightly and laughed more, but if you looked closely, your eyes had no life. Your heart grew cold too. You were immune to any shenanigans Timothée has put you through. After years of not being in the same movie together, you and Timothée were casted as the main characters of a film by Greta Gerwig.

In the press conference, one interviewer asked you and Timothée about the video that went viral. “Yeah, we saw the video. I forgot about that to be honest.” Timothée chuckled as he looked at you with a small smile. You never looked back at him, though. You just stared at the interviewer and said, “I forgot about it too, but y’know when you’re working, you always don’t know that a few years have already gone by. One day, you’ll just realize ‘oh wow it’s been a long time!’. So, yeah.”

“Any plans on getting married soon? I mean, I think I speak for everyone when I say that everyone wants to see the Hollywood It Couple to finally tie the knot.” The interviewer added.

“I’m always ready for marriage. I think I’ve always been ready… no matter how tired I was. I think I’m just waiting to be asked.” You chuckled half-heartedly as you put down the mic on your lap and looked at Timothée, who was now looking at the interviewer. You looked at him with hope. You wanted him to defend you just once because you knew you looked like an idiot waiting for him. Thinking about it made you tear up, but you held your composure.

“You know, for me, marriage is just a piece of paper. I feel content with what I have now. Let’s see again in ten years.” Timothée joked, causing everyone to laugh with what he said going over everyone’s head. You nodded to yourself and looked away from him. You gave a big smile as everyone laughed. You were dying and he was laughing. How can he be so dense?

Vogue did a photo shoot with you and Timothée on your anniversary. They interviewed you too about having a long relationship. At that point, you were lying to yourself. Any body language expert would see that your eyes had no spark as it once had when you started dating him.

You were at the point in your relationship that you couldn’t feel him anymore. There’s only so much your heart could take. In your eleventh year, you found yourself sneaking out of your shared room to go to yours and Timothée’s favorite room. You would sit in the dark and cry at ungodly hours. You would sleep there too. Timothée never even looked for you. He just assumed you had work and left early. It happened a lot. Sometimes, when you walked out of the room, you’d smell something good coming from the kitchen. He was cooking breakfast.

“Oh, you’re here! You’re lucky I cooked a lot.” Timothée chuckled and set up a plate for you. He looked at you and it was evident that you’ve been crying. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Hearing that made you cry again. For the first time in a long time, he finally asked you that. Regardless, you nodded through your tears and wiped them away. “I’m alright. I was just reading a script that someone sent me and it just hit hard, I guess.” You answered with a teary-eyed smile before sitting down on your usual seat. You started eating the food he cooked as tears streamed down your face.

Your birthday came around and Zendaya threw you a surprise party at a club that you liked. Timothée wasn’t even there. He was working late on set. He probably forgot about your birthday. You didn’t care anymore. Your relationship is already in shambles anyway whether he knew it or not. When the party ended, it was raining hard outside. When you arrived home, there was no electricity due to the heavy rain. You didn’t go straight to your shared room with Timothée. Instead, you went to your favorite room and there was Timothée in the candle lit room with a small cake on the coffee table. He smiled at you and said, “Happy birthday, Y/N! I’m so sorry. I forgot, but I hope this makes up for it. I know it’s not perfect, but hey, today’s Friday catch-up. What a great way to celebrate your birthday, huh?”

You sat on the bean bag chair, stared at the cake, and looked at him. You were crying again. He frowned and knelt down in front of you, “What’s wrong? Do you not like the cake? We can get a new one tomorrow, I promise-”

“When are you going to stop with these promises, Timmy?” You said, your heart wrenching in pain. It was heavy, what you were feeling. You couldn’t handle it anymore.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He said. He was lost.

“I know you don’t understand. You never did understand anything.” You cried. “It’s time to stop lying to ourselves. We haven’t been okay for so long and I feel sick to my stomach seeing you act as if we’re okay all day, everyday. I’m tired, T. I’m so tired.”

He looked at you; he really looked at you. It was then that he saw the bags under your eyes, the puffiness, the redness, and he saw the pain in your eyes take over the spark of joy. How could he be so blind? You were long gone.

“I’m tired of putting up a happy face in front of everyone. I’m tired of pretending that you’re happy for me. I’m tired of wondering how you can watch me walk the red carpets alone while you’re away in some country filming a movie. I’m tired of comparing and wishing for you to become more available to me. I’ve been supporting you since day one and you couldn’t even do the same for me.” You cried heavily.

“Is that how you really feel? I brag about you all the time to my friends whenever I see you strutting on the runway or walking on the red carpet with your castmates.” He said softly.

“That’s different, T.” You sighed heavily and stood up. “That’s different.”

“I wanted you there with me.” You sniffed.

“I am-”

“No! You’re not! You’re never here for me!” You shouted angrily as hot tears streamed down your face. “You left me to fight my own battles. You left me to fend for myself. You left me to defend you when many people said awful shit about you.”

“Who said I needed defending?” He asked, stubbornly. “No one did.”

“No one asked me to defend you, but I did it because I loved you! Don’t you get it?! I made sure to paint a good picture of you in front of everyone because I loved you!” You cried.

“I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay. I’m tired of hoping that the old Timothée I fell in love with will come back to me. I’m tired of asking myself when we’ll finally get married. I’m tired of defending you. I’m tired of proving to other people that we’re very much in love even though we haven’t had a picture in years.”

Timothée looked at you as tears streamed down his face. He was so blind to it all. He kept quiet as he listened to you.

“Prolonging this relationship is a huge mistake.” You confessed sadly. “I feel so sorry for myself because I look delusional, thinking you’ll back me up for once. Thinking maybe you’ll surprise me on the red carpet, but no. It’s always been your projects over mine.”

“Our friends are married and they have families now and I’m sick and tired of being left behind. I feel like I wasted years of my life just for this relationship to work, hoping every year that maybe things will change. I guess I never learned my lesson. I just wanted you to see me, but you never looked at me at all. I just wished you would look at me with the same passionate look you would give to the crowd. It’s hard to admit that you love them more than you love me.”

“The fucked up part is I can’t seem to hate you because I love you too much to do so. It breaks my own heart to decide not to be with you anymore.” You cried. “All these years waiting for you to just leave me is tiring. I’m leaving instead. My world revolved around you and it’s time that it stops.”

“I gave you a chance multiple times. You never did anything for me. You never said anything. You never lost anything. You never even risked one day of filming just to come see me. Your loyalty lies with your job and if it wasn’t clear to me before, it’s crystal clear for me now. I’m sorry for not being good enough.” You sobbed. You looked down at the promise ring sitting on your ring finger for the past ten years. You looked at him and walked towards him. You took off the ring, grabbed his hand and placed it on his palm. “Give it to the next girl you promise to marry. Just follow through with it this time.”

“Y/N, the only girl I want to marry is you.” Timothée cried. “I was going to propose tonight.”

Both of you sobbed as you looked at each other with very different emotions. You looked at him with tired eyes and in defeat. He looked at you with forlorn and hope; he hoped you would change his mind, but he knew deep down that you were tired of choosing him all the time. He knew you were going to choose yourself now.

“You’re so unfair, T. If you said that years ago, you knew I would’ve said yes even before you knelt down and showed me the ring. An engagement ring isn’t a band-aid for a broken mirror. If I said yes now, we’d still be broken; I’d still be broken while you’ll be out chasing the world as I’d chase after you.”

“I love you, Y/N.” Timothée cried. “I really do. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too and I’m afraid I always will, but I have to go.” You sighed heavily as you wiped your tears with your hands. Timothée pulled you in for a tight hug and you did the same.

News of your break up with Timothée was all over social media. You decided not to say anything. You were too tired of fending for your relationship on behalf of you and Timothée for years. It was his time to return the favor.

#timothee chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet fanfic

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bbjobo · 9 months ago

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Hello hi it’s me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.

So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because I’d wager they’ve been planning this since the premiere.

RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and that’s not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Year’s is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because they’re so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.

The marketing team makes the most of what they’ve got: they’re keeping up the official character accounts, they’re dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. We’ve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they don’t. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but it’s still consistent. It’s just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like “why are you still posting this much about it?” And this continues into 2024.

On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. It’d be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, they’re in.

But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, he’s everywhere. He’s criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.

At the same time, we’ve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that they’d be up for it if the story is right, that they don’t know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says “conversations are being had” all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasn’t happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.

Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.

Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gang’s all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.

Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screen’s giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for “making history with us.” The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Prime’s top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.

It’s just… an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.

So where do we go from here? IDK but here’s some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.

The book’s 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.

Casey’s been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay

Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon

They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since it’s a midterm election, but still.

Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script

I guess we’re back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #i'm gonna be thinking about this for YEARS #A+ to the whole team that made this happen #i hope they get some rest now #god i love this kind of thing

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23victoria · 7 months ago

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Love in the Dark ❀

toxic!charles leclerc x actress!reader

summary: charles and y/n are hollywoods it couple!! they have the most perfect relationship….right?…

warnings: cheating, toxic relationship, cussing, sad, angsty

authors note: i love Adele and was listening to love in the dark and then this happened! not sure if this is good or not but oh well. sorry if your name is emily, jenna, lisa, or alex!! sorry if there’s any typos I’m too tired to check. any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Now

As the flashing lights of the cameras illuminated the grand entrance to the Met Gala, you and Charles stepped onto the red carpet hand in hand. The paparazzi clamored for your attention, shouting your names and urging you and him to pose for the cameras. You smiled gracefully, your arm linked with Charles', as you navigated the crowd with practiced ease.

You paused for a few photos, your faces lit with the glow of the paparazzi's flashes. Then, you were ushered into an interview with Vogue, where you both were asked about your respective careers and your relationship. You spoke eloquently about your latest film projects, while Charles discussed his passion for racing in Formula One.

When the interviewer turned the conversation towards your relationship, your smile faltered slightly. You glanced at Charles, who squeezed your hand reassuringly as he answered questions about your dynamic as a couple. But just as you were about to move on, another reporter interjected.

"Y/N, what's your opinion on the rumors that Charles is sleeping with another woman named Alex?" the reporter asked, her tone accusatory.

Your heart skipped a beat, your smile fading completely. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal, but you managed to maintain your composure. Ignoring the question, you simply brushed past the reporter, your grip on Charles' hand tightening.

As you continued up the steps, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air, and it was suffocating. Finally reaching the top of the steps, you move to a secluded area, pulling your hand away from Charles, your expression stormy.

"I need a moment," you muttered, your voice tight with emotion, before turning and striding towards the nearest bathroom.

Charles followed after you, concern etched on his face. "Y/N, wait. What's wrong?"

You spun around, your eyes flashing with anger. "Don't you dare play dumb, Charles. I heard what that reporter said. Is it true? Are you sleeping with Alex? Your fucking ex-girlfriend?!"

Charles's eyes widened in shock, his hands reaching out to grasp yours. "Baby, no. I swear, I not in contact with her. I swear. I don't know what they're talking about."

You shook your head, your frustration boiling over. "How can I believe you, Charles? This isn't the first time rumors like this have surfaced. And this wouldn’t be the first fucking time you’ve cheated on me! Or have you forgotten the countless of fucking times you’ve cheated on me? Cause I fucking didn’t! I'm tired of constantly defending our relationship against these “accusations” when I know some of them can be true and probably fucking are, knowing you!"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away, unable to bear the sight of him. "I need some space, Charles. I need to clear my head."

"Baby, please, Y/N, don't shut me out," Charles pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you. I’m not doing anything with Alex. I promise."

But you were already slipping into the bathroom, the heavy door closing behind you with a resounding thud. Alone in the dimly lit space, you leaned against the sink, your hands trembling with emotion. You didn't know what to believe anymore. All you knew was that your heart felt heavy with doubt and fear, and you weren't sure if it could take much more.

2019

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your gown for the premiere. The dress was exquisite, shimmering under the lights of the spacious dressing room. But the excitement of the movie premiere was overshadowed by a dull ache in your chest. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a supportive message from Charles. Instead, there were no new messages, just the last text from him hours ago: "Have fun tonight, babe."

You sighed, trying to push the negative thoughts aside. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of your hard work, your success. As a movie star, premieres were your chance to shine, but lately, even your brightest moments felt dimmed by the shadow of your relationship with Charles.

Their relationship had started like a whirlwind romance from one of her films. He was charming, attentive, and seemed genuinely in awe of her. She remembered their first date vividly: a moonlit dinner on the beach, where they talked for hours about their dreams and aspirations. He had seemed perfect, too perfect. But as time passed, the cracks began to show.

The first time you caught him cheating was with his ex-girlfriend, Emily. You had been together for about a year then. You had come home early from a shoot, excited to surprise him. Instead, you found Emily's clothes strewn across their living room and the two of them tangled in each other on the couch.

"Charles, what the fuck is this?" You had shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of shock and rage.

He had scrambled to his feet, his face pale. "Y/N, I...I can explain."

Emily had quickly gathered her things and left, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. He had fallen to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. It was a mistake. I was fucking stupid. Please, please forgive me."

You had wanted to walk out right then, but something in his voice, his tear-filled eyes, made you stay. You guys talked for hours, and eventually, you had forgiven him. He promised it would never happen again, and you had believed him. But deep down, a seed of doubt was planted.

2021

A few years later, it happened again. This time, it was with one of your friends, Jenna. They had been at a party, celebrating the end of finals. You had gone to get drinks, and when you returned, you found them in a secluded corner, kissing passionately.

Your heart sank, and you felt a familiar wave of nausea. You confronted them right there, your voice shaking with anger. "What the fuck, Charles? Again? Jenna? How could you?"

Jenna had pulled away, looking guilty. "Y/N, I'm sorry. It just happened."

Charles had reached for you, but you stepped back. "Don't touch me."

He followed you outside, where you broke down in tears. "Why, Charles? Why the fuck do you keep doing this to me? I haven’t done anything to you?! What did I do to deserve this?! Huh?!? Nothing! I have done nothing but love you!! And this is how you repay me?!"

He had cried again, begging for forgiveness. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Y/N. I love you, I really do. Please, don't leave me."

Against your better judgment, you had forgiven him again. You loved him, or at least you thought you did. You wanted to believe that he could change, that your love was worth fighting for. But the doubts grew stronger.

2022

As your career took off, the strain on the relationship intensified. You were traveling more, spending long hours on set, and attending glamorous events. Charles seemed supportive at first, proud of your achievements. But then came the night of your first major award show.

He had promised to be there, to celebrate your success. But as the night wore on, there was no sign of him. After accepting your award, you went backstage, your excitement mingling with disappointment. You called him, but there was no answer.

When you finally got home, you found him with another woman, a co-worker named Lisa. This time, it wasn't just kissing. The betrayal was physical, tangible, and it broke something inside her.

You stood in the doorway, your hands trembling. "How could you do this to me, Charles? On the night of my biggest fucking achievement in my career? Why?! Why do you keep fucking doing this?! I don’t understand?! You said you would stop! You said you did stop!! So, why?!"

He had tried to explain, but you couldn't listen. You walked out, spending the night at a hotel, crying herself to sleep. The next morning, he was at your door, looking disheveled and remorseful.

"I fucked up. I fucked up again, Y/N. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don't deserve you, but please, give me another chance. Please baby, don’t leave me. I love you. I need you."

You were exhausted, emotionally drained. But you loved him, or at least you thought you did. You took him back, hoping that this time, he would change. But the pattern was set, and the cycle continued.

2023

You found herself standing in your shared apartment again with nothing but pain and betrayal coursing through your body. Charles was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked up as you entered, his eyes red and puffy. You found him cheating, again.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you came back. I've been going fucking crazy without you."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Charles, we need to talk."

He stood up, walking towards you. "I know, I know. Please, just hear me out."

"No, Charles. This time, you need to listen to me." Your voice was firm, but inside you was trembling.

He nodded, his expression desperate. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I can't do this anymore. This, this toxic fucking cycle of you cheating, apologizing, and me forgiving you—it has to stop. It's tearing me apart. It’s killing me."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I know I've hurt you, Y/N I know I betrayed you. I know I’ve fucked up your trust in me and I’m sorry. I really am. But I can't lose you. I need you."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "Charles, you don't need me. You need to fix whatever is broken inside you. I can't, I can’t keep putting myself through this. It’s just pain, never ending pain. And I can’t do it anymore, I can’t, it hurts so much."

He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. "Baby please. Please, Y/N. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'm sick. I’m fucked up. I fucked up. And I know. I know I have a problem, but I can't do it alone. Please. If you love me, stay and help me. Please. I need you to help me get better. I need you."

Your heart ached. You had loved him for so long, but you also knew that you had to take care of yourself. "Charles, I can't be your savior. You have to want to change for yourself, not for me."

"I do, Y/N. I swear, I do. If you stay, I'll prove it to you. I'll be fully devoted to you. I'll show you how much I care. Please, mi cheríe, give me one last chance."

Your resolve was crumbling. Seeing him so vulnerable, so desperate, made you question everything. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he could change. You had invested so much of yourself into the relationship, hoping for a better future together.

"Charles, I..." you faltered, tears streaming down your face. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He fell to his knees, clutching your hands. "Please, Y/N. Don't give up on us. I know I've messed up, but I love you more than anything. If you stay, it will stop. I'll go to therapy, I'll do whatever it takes. Just please, please, stay with me. Help me become the man you deserve. Please"

Your heart ached at his plea. You had always been a nurturer, someone who wanted to help and heal. And here he was, begging for your support. Could you really turn your back on him when he was finally admitting he had a problem?

You knelt down beside him, your voice trembling. "Okay, Charles. I love you. I don't want to give up on us either. But this is your last chance. You need to get help. We can't keep living like this."

His face lit up with hope. "Thank you, baby. I promise, I'll make it right. I love you so much. I won't let you down again. I promise."

You wrapped your arms around him, both of you crying. It was a mix of relief and fear. You wanted so desperately to believe that this time would be different, that he would change. But a part of you still harbored doubt.

Now

Tonight, you were going to the premiere alone. Charles had promised to be there, but then he called, saying he had an important meeting with Ferrari. Another excuse, another disappointment. As the car drove you to the theater, you couldn't help but replay the last conversation in your mind.

"Charles, this is important to me," you had said, trying to keep you voice steady.

"I know, babe, and I'm really sorry. But this project at work is huge. I promise I'll make it up to you."

You had nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "Okay. Just...try to be there if you can."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too," you had replied, but the words felt hollow.

The premiere was a success. Fans cheered, critics applauded, and you put on your best smile for the cameras. But inside, you felt empty. After the event, you decided to go home instead of attending the after-party. You needed to rest, to think.

As the car pulled up to the apartment building, you felt a familiar sense of dread. The feeling that something was wrong. You dismissed it, attributing it to your tiredness. But when you opened the door to the apartment, the sight that greeted you confirmed your worst fears.

Charles was in bed with his ex-girlfriend, Alex. The two of them were wrapped around each other, oblivious to your presence. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Then the reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut.

"I'm done," you whispered, more to yourself than to them.

Alex scrambled out of bed, grabbing her clothes and muttering apologies as she fled the apartment. Charles stood up, looking panicked. "Y/N, wait. I can explain."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, Charles. I'm done. I can't do this anymore."

"Please, babe, don't leave. I swear, this was the last time. I love you."

But you couldn't listen to his excuses anymore. You walked out of the apartment, ignoring his pleas. You got into your car and drove, not knowing where you were going, just needing to get away. Your phone rang incessantly, but you didn't answer.

Finally, you pulled over to the side of the road, your vision blurred by tears. You answered the call, your voice shaking. "Stop calling me, Charles. I've had enough. I can't do this anymore. You hurt me, over and over again. You break me every time, and you enjoy it. I can't take it anymore."

"No, baby, please. Come back to me. I promise I'll change. I love you."

You hung up, throwing your phone onto the passenger seat. The rain was pouring down, making it hard to see the road. Your tears flowed freely, mixing with the rain on your cheeks. You felt a strange sense of relief, but also a deep sadness. You had finally broken free, but at what cost?

As you drove to your hotel, the rain became a torrential downpour. The night was dark, and you struggled to see through the windshield. Your thoughts were a chaotic mess, filled with years of suppressed pain and broken dreams.

You thought about the countless times Charles had betrayed you , each infidelity chipping away at your spirit. You remembered the first time you caught him with Emily, the gut-wrenching betrayal. Then there was Jenna, a friend who should have known better, and Lisa, a co-worker whose name still made you feel sick. And now Alex—another name added to the list of his indiscretions.

In the early years of their relationship, you had dreamed of marrying Charles, building a life together, and starting a family. Those dreams had felt so real, so within reach. But each betrayal had crushed a piece of your spirit, and with every apology, you had clung to the hope that he would change. The idea of marriage and children, once bright and hopeful, had faded into a distant fantasy.

You couldn't remember the last time you had truly felt happy. When was the last time you had smiled without forcing it, or felt loved without the shadow of doubt hanging over you? It felt like a lifetime ago. The vibrant, hopeful woman you once were had been replaced by someone who was merely surviving, stuck in a cycle of pain and disappointment.

You realized you had been living in the dark, loving him in the dark. You was trapped in a place where you were unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to live. Each day with Charles was a struggle to maintain the facade of happiness, to pretend that everything was okay. But inside, you were breaking.

The memories swirled around you, blurring your vision even more than the rain. The arguments, the tearful reconciliations, the empty promises—it all played out like a tragic film you couldn't turn off. You were exhausted from the constant heartache, the perpetual feeling of betrayal. Your mind was a storm of emotions, and you felt yourself slipping further into the abyss of despair.

Suddenly, you were jolted back to the present by a loud horn. You looked up, but it was too late. The blinding lights of the truck bore down on you. There was no time to react. The last thing you saw was the searing brightness, the last thing you heard was the deafening blare of the horn. Then, everything went black.

✿ .° • ✿ .° • ꨄ • °. ✿• °. ✿

Charles was sitting on the couch in the apartment, staring blankly at the messages he sent to you. The news was on, but he wasn't really watching. His mind was replaying the last conversation he had with you. He had been pleading with you, begging for another chance, but you had left. Now, the silence in the apartment was suffocating.

His phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was an unknown number. Reluctantly, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Charles Leclerc?" a stern voice asked.

"Yes, this is he," Charles replied, his heart pounding in his chest.

"This is Officer Daniels from the New York Police Department. I’m calling about Y/N L/N."

Charles's breath caught in his throat. "What about her? Is she okay?"

There was a pause on the other end, and Charles felt his stomach drop. "I'm sorry to inform you that Y/N was involved in a car accident tonight. She didn't survive."

The words hit him like a physical blow. "No," he whispered, shaking his head as if he could will the news away. "No, that can't be true. She can't be... she can't be gone."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Leclerc," the officer said. "We need you to come down to the station to identify her belongings and make arrangements."

Charles's phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. "No, no, no, no!" he screamed, his voice breaking. He buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. "Please, God, no! I'm sorry, Y/N! I'm so sorry!"

He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if the pain could be physically removed. "Y/N, please come back! I'm sorry! This is all my fault. If I hadn't hurt you, if I had been better... please, come back to me!"

His cries echoed through the empty apartment. Memories of you flooded his mind: you laughter, you smile, the way you looked at him with so much love and trust. He had destroyed all of that, and now you were gone. The weight of his actions crashed down on him, a tidal wave of regret and guilt.

Charles crawled to the couch, collapsing against it. He clutched a pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. "Y/N, baby, I'm so sorry. I love you. Please, come back. I can't live without you. I'm nothing without you."

The realization that he would never see you again, never hear your voice, never hold you, was unbearable. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of his own making, the pain and sorrow suffocating him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the emptiness. "I'm so, so sorry."

He stayed there for what felt like hours, lost in his grief. The world outside continued on, oblivious to his pain. The woman he loved, the one he had hurt so many times, was gone forever. And all he could do was cry and beg for forgiveness that would never come.

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rooftopbeliver · 1 year ago

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┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° CILLIAN MURPHY x f! reader

┊age gap ; fluff ; cillian is so babygirl

. . .

YOU were getting ready for an oppenheimer premiere; it was your first time being by his side in public. it makes you happy that you can finally announce to the world that cillian is your boyfriend. it was controversial because of the age gap you guys have because you were in your late twenties, and he is in his late forties. for you, it wasn't a problem, obviously, but you know how people would react. but you didn’t care; cillian makes you the happiest person in the world, and people’s opinions cannot change it.

“you look beautiful.” you heard cillian’s voice behind you and smiled at his compliment. even if the dress were from a thrift store, you loved it, and in your opinion, it was the perfect outfit for this movie.

“thank you, darling, you look so handsome,” you said, turning to him and smiling. cillian was wearing a black suit with a sheer shirt. he was looking too good in this outfit.

he just chuckled, put his arm around your waist, and kissed your lips. cillian was admiring everything in you — he cannot imagine his life without you innit. he loved how humbled you were and how positive you were always, even if circumstances didn’t make you the happiest. but most of all, he loved that you made him feel young again.

and you were admiring everything about him. you loved how clueless he could be when it came to technology and trends; it was always so funny and sweet to you. you loved how he cared about his sons and his friends. he was your dream man and your safe person. he never judged you or the things you did; he was understanding and caring.

“are you stressed?” his question woke you up from daydreaming.

“to be honest, i am not. i know that people are going to talk about us, but i don’t care. it’s your day, and i want to celebrate with you,” you simply said, kissing his nose with a smile.

. . .

STANDING among all the celebrities and paparazzi, you started to feel anxious, even if you thought that you would be fine. cillian felt how your hand clenched on his arm. he kissed your temple and whispered some words that made you feel better. you weren’t a celebrity, so it’s obvious that you didn't feel comfortable and confident in this kind of situation, but you were dating an actor, so you needed to get used to it.

when the time for photos came, you stepped on the black carpet. you weren’t hiding that you weren't feeling the most comfortable posing for photos. but when cillian told you to look at him and not at the paparazzi, you felt a little better seeing him smiling. you were so proud.

people were a bit surprised that cillian showed up with a woman next to him, but they didn’t scream hateful comments, but the opposite. they complimented your look; you could even hear comments like, ‘she is so beautiful’ ‘wish i was her’ etc.

after done the all photos you leave the carpet happily smiling. it felt nice made your relationship public and it was comforting that people weren’t hateful about your relationship.

“you have done so well, love. i love you so much,” cillian said, kissing your lips. he doesn’t care about people around anymore.

yes, you are the happiest person in the world right now.

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ thank you for attention!! ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

#cillian murphy #imagines #actors #cillian murphy x reader #x female reader #reqs open #oppenheimer #premiere #red carpet #oppenheimer 2023 #oppenheimer movie #oppenheimer premiere #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x y/n

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 9 months ago

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behind the curtain

Summary: Sequel to never been (stage) kissed. After shooting wraps, you and Ruby part ways. Eight months later, you see each other again at the premiere screening, and decide to “sneak away” during the after-party. How will you two navigate the paparazzi after they catch you in a compromising position?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, adult humor, kissing, angst, fluff, hair playing, secret relationship trope, brief mention of an ED, publicity tweets and comments, invasive tabloids, the price of fame

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous RPF, so the RPF Guidelines still stand. This fic contains a very brief mentioning towards an ED, and should not be triggering (at least I don’t think so). I am not insinuating anything by this mention, it is simply meant to shed light on how invasive and presumptuous Hollywood can be. That being said, I had the most fun EVER writing this! Enjoy! :)

———

Ever since the first “kissing lesson,” you and Ruby had spent every on-set lunch break in her trailer. Nothing ever progressed beyond kissing, but with the way Ruby’s hands entangled themselves in your hair, and how she shivered every time your hand grazed her thigh, kissing was really all you needed.

Your mid-day rendezvous were kept a secret from the rest of the world. None of the cast or crew knew exactly what was happening when the door to Ruby’s trailer closed, but it was clear that something was working. Since the trailer lunches began, your on-set chemistry became palpable. It even got to the point where the director would shout words of praise after “cut!”

Eventually, like with all movies, filming began to wrap up. The last day on set, you and Ruby spent all of your down time wrapped in each other's arms, tears falling at the thought of parting. Everyone on set sympathized with the both of you, except for the makeup artist who kept having to touch up your alien makeup after every fallen tear.

You and Ruby promised to keep in touch, and you did for a little while. But daily FaceTimes eventually became weekly phone calls, which turned into sporadic texts, until silence settled between you, save for occasional likes on social media posts. You missed her terribly, and while your pride and fear of rejection kept you from reaching back out, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing you too.

About eight months after shooting wrapped for “Aliens of Atlantis,” you were going over sides for an upcoming audition when you got a call from your agent. Upon answering, she announced that “Aliens of Atlantis” post-production had wrapped, and the film had a scheduled premiere where the cast would be making an appearance.

A blissful daze settled across your face at this news. Your agent kept on talking about the when, the where, and the dress code of the upcoming premiere, but you were only half-listening. Her words mushed together, flying in one ear and out the other as the only thing that mattered to you consumed your mind.

You were going to see Ruby again.

On the morning of the premiere, you woke up with a knot in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if the cause was nerves or excitement, but you chalked it up to probably being a little of both. You tried everything to settle your stomach, from aspirin to deep breaths to simply distracting yourself with other tasks. Despite your attempts, when your driver arrived later in the day to take you to the premiere, the knot was still there and prominent as ever.

By the time you had arrived and were about to get out of the car, the knot had seemingly spread throughout your entire body, making you feel like an absolute disaster. You took out your phone and checked your reflection in the front-facing camera, just to remind yourself that you weren’t. In fact, you looked good. You were wearing a metallic blue floor-length gown as a not-so subtle nod to your alien character from the movie. Pale blue eyeshadow decorated your eyelids, and you left your hair down in loose face-framing curls. You knew the press would go crazy as soon as they saw you, and that thought alone gave you enough of a confidence boost to calm down a bit.

When the car pulled up to the red carpet, you took a deep breath and stepped out, immediately being bombarded with cameras flashing in your face. You blinked, overwhelmed at the bright lights, and quickly attempted to paste on a smile and act like this wasn’t your first red carpet event.

You stumbled down the red carpet and looked around for Ruby, but the constant camera flashes and bright lights made it difficult to see much. Every now and then you would stop to strike a pose and flash a pretty smile in some random direction, or answer one of the million questions being thrown at you.

“Who are you wearing?”

A fucking blue dress. “Valdrin Sahiti!”

“How do you feel about your first red carpet event?”

Overwhelmed. “So excited!”

“What are you most looking forward to tonight?”

Seeing Ruby again. “Everyone finally getting to see all the hard work from the cast and crew!”

After what felt like an eternity of paparazzi and bullshit answers to trivial questions, the end of the red carpet was finally approaching. You felt yourself let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wasn’t easy, but you managed to make it down your first red carpet without making a complete fool of yourself.

Eventually, the cameras seemed to dissipate, focusing on the next pretty young thing that had just arrived. You blinked, trying to restore your vision infringed upon by the blinding lights. Once you could see in front of you again, you looked up, and a gulp forced itself down your throat at what might have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen.

There, standing at the end of the red carpet, was Ruby Cruz, radiant amidst the flashing lights.

Her gown was long and form-fitting, sporting bright streaks of color and a slit up one of her legs. Dark brown curls hovered above her shoulders and cascaded down the back of her neck, while glittery red eyeshadow made her blue eyes pop. She looked so natural, posing and smiling for the cameras, that you couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of her.

Upon seeing you, Ruby’s eyes brightened, and a goofy grin spread across her face. She walked towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and instantly making the cameras go wild. Your cheeks flushed into a bright pink tint. You missed her touch, and having her arm wrapped around you like that almost felt like deja vu.

While the both of you posed for the flashing cameras, Ruby leaned down to your ear and whispered one single sentence, the answer to a question you didn’t need to ask.

“I missed you.”

Unsurprisingly, the movie premiere turned out to be a massive success. The audience was extremely receptive to the storyline, cheering and gasping at all the right moments. Critics even approached you after the screening to rave about your performance and promise a glowing review.

The after-party was held at a nearby banquet hall, decorated to look like the underwater city of Atlantis. Filk music blasted through speakers while an open bar served space-themed cocktails.

You were busy making your rounds, establishing connections with other attendees while sipping a ‘cosmonaut’ from the open bar. While posing for a photo with a fan, you couldn’t help but realize you hadn’t seen Ruby in a bit. You craned your neck to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged it off, thinking it’s just a big venue and you’d probably run into her at some point during the night.

After several photos, impromptu interviews, and business cards you had nowhere to put, you were exhausted. You tried to make yourself as invisible as possible, leaning against a curtain by the back wall and downing the last sip of your cocktail.

While scanning the room, you noticed some of your castmates appeared slightly tipsy. You felt bad for them, knowing their press interviews would come off as less than professional, but there was a small part of you that wished you had more to drink throughout the night. The party was fun, sure, but took a lot out of you, and alcohol was sure to make it more tolerable.

Suddenly, while you were immersed in watching a crew member profusely apologize to an intern she had drunkenly stumbled into, you felt a disembodied hand appear out of nowhere and wrap around your arm. The hand pulled you behind the curtain you were leaning against, causing you to gasp and drop your empty cup.

You whipped around to see who grabbed you, preparing to throw a punch or scream for help if you had to. Instead, your eyes softened and you lowered your fist upon seeing Ruby, standing there staring at you with a devilish smirk.

“Hi pretty girl.” She cooed, taking a step towards you.

“Ruby…” you half-whispered in shock, eyes traveling up and down her body. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” she rested her hands on your hips and bit her lip, letting an ounce of vulnerability shine through her otherwise confident exterior. “I missed this. I feel like we barely got to see each other all night.”

“Me too,” you responded, internally melting at the feeling of her warm hands on your torso.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and leaned close to her before a sense of paranoia made you backtrack. “Ruby, it’s a big party, what if someone sees us?”

Ruby simply shrugged, completely unbothered. “Like you said, it’s a big party. Our castmates are drunk, the press is too focused on capturing their embarrassing moments.”

Her words seemed to reassure you, and you pulled her close to you again, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “I’m glad you pulled me away.”

Ruby crashed her lips against yours, forcing a soft moan to escape your throat. She pulled back, looking deep into your eyes and holding your face in her hands.

“Careful now. We don’t want anyone hearing us.”

You nodded, non-verbally promising to keep quiet before Ruby brought her lips to yours again. Both of you sighed into the kiss, eight months of absence making itself prominent with passion. She tasted like sweet nostalgia with a hint of coconut rum, probably leftover from a drink she had earlier.

Ruby pressed herself against you, and you grabbed at the back of her neck, desperate to be as close to her as possible. She kept her hands planted at your waist, thumbing over the metallic fabric of your gown. Each time her fingertips pressed into your sides sent electrifying shocks through your body, making your knees stutter and causing you to lean more into Ruby for balance.

You brought your hands up to play with one of her curls, prompting a gentle sigh to travel from her mouth into yours. A smirk appeared on your lips, realizing your beloved brunette enjoyed having her hair played with.

Just when you were about to fully take advantage of this newfound information, a sudden crash engulfed your ears, followed by a blinding light and a collective gasp. You and Ruby pulled away from each other, turning your heads to check out the commotion.

One of the interns had drunkenly stumbled into the curtain and pulled it down with him as he fell, leaving you and Ruby entangled in each other and completely exposed to the rest of the party.

All hell broke loose. Interviewers screamed questions from across the room while paparazzi cameras flashed in your face. Those without cameras pulled out their phones and filmed the both of you, desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Anxiety overtook your body as you felt a lump rise to your throat and your heart sink to your feet. You turned to look at Ruby, eyes full of fear, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking straight at the flashing cameras, with an expression that made your blood run cold.

You had never seen her bright blue eyes filled with so much anger.

The pit in your stomach grew as you scrolled through the tabloid headlines and Twitter articles featuring your and Ruby’s “stunt” from the other night. This was bad. So bad, that both of your agents had gotten together to hire a public relations manager just for the situation.

Two days after the movie premiere, an emergency meeting was called. Five of you were called to the manager’s office, with both of your agents sitting on either side of him, and you and Ruby placed across from the three of them.

The manager, named Rick, held out his hand and you gave him his phone back, sick of scrolling through the headlines anyway. As far as you could tell, Rick didn’t seem like a bad guy, but it was clear Ruby didn’t feel the same. She hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meeting, instead keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointing a cold glare towards the man in front of her.

She didn’t trust him, and everyone in the room knew it.

Rick gave the both of you a sheepish grin. “As you both can probably see, you’re kind of the flavor of the week right now.”

Ruby’s agent nodded in agreement. “I have a friend in New York, and she heard a rumor about an SNL sketch being written about the whole thing.”

Your agent sighed, clearly having heard the rumor herself. Ruby simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” You piped up.

All eyes turned to look at you, making you shrink in your seat. “I mean, can’t we just wait for it to blow over? All we did was kiss at an after party.”

“It’s not like we were fucking, Rick.” Ruby growled through her teeth, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

Rick cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Ruby’s candidness. “Well it’s not really that simple…”

“No one knows what you are.” Your agent interrupted. “All the public knows is you were caught going at it like teenagers in a basement, and now the media is going to be on top of everything you do until they figure it out.”

Ruby’s agent nodded. “Before this, we wanted you both to appear single to the public. You’re both very attractive girls. People want you, and we want them to think they can have you.”

“But that’s not really an option now.” Rick pointed out. “Fortunately, both of you have pretty reputable status in Hollywood. People see two of their favorite actresses together, feedback is bound to be mostly positive.”

He opened up a notepad in front of him and started scribbling down something you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m thinking, we take this relationship and go completely public. Social media posts, dates open to the paparazzi, everything. That way, the media won’t have to do any guess work and this whole thing will blow over sooner.”

Suddenly, Ruby stood up from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Ruby!” Her agent called after her.

She turned to flash an apologetic smile towards all the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this. I’ll talk to her.”

She ran out of the room after Ruby, leaving Rick and your agent to go over the details of the plan. Their voices faded into the background as millions of thoughts swam through your mind. You had a bad feeling about this ‘public relationship’ idea.

How were you supposed to go public with your relationship, when you weren’t even sure if there was a relationship to go public with?

You adjusted your oversized hat and sunglasses while staring up at the cafe sign that read “Grind n’ Dine,” shuddering at the slightly suggestive name.

One week after the meeting with Rick, he worked with your agents to schedule a public date for you and Ruby, tipping off the press to make sure there was media coverage. Grind n’ Dine, a local business, had apparently paid Rick a large sum of money to schedule your date here in the hopes that the publicity would be good for business.

Taking a deep breath, you walked in through the restaurant doors and looked around. Several members of the press were already present, wearing cameras around their necks and sipping coffee at various tables. You breathed out a sigh of relief that they didn’t recognize you yet, thankful for your agent who suggested arriving in disguise.

In the very back of the restaurant, tucked into a booth, you spotted Ruby hiding behind a menu. She had her body and hair buried under a large black hoodie, and masked her face with sunglasses similar to yours. You made your way over to her, trying to act natural, and making sure to avoid press members as much as possible in case they recognize you before you’re ready.

You slid into the seat across from her and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence. She put down her menu and laid it flat, before tilting her sunglasses down to meet your eyes.

Her blue eyes, once lively and bright, were now bloodshot and emotionless. Dark circles hung like bags underneath them, as if she hadn’t slept in days. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Ruby had never looked at you this way before, and you wished more than anything that she would stop.

“Ready for this?” She asked, her voice monotone and lifeless.

You gulped, nodding defeatedly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ruby removed her sunglasses and pulled down her hood, shaking out her wild brunette locks. You followed suit, taking off your hat and slipping your sunglasses into your purse.

Almost immediately, members of the press recognized the both of you, and practically trampled the poor servers and other diners to get to your booth. Cameras were suddenly shoved in your face, followed by microphones and what felt like hundreds of pointless and rather invading questions.

“Is this a date? How would you define your relationship?”

“If you had to describe your sex life using only three words, what would they be?”

“Ruby! Do you think every liberal democrat should take home a migrant to show their support for the proposed open border policy?”

The two of you mumbled terse responses to some of the questions, and completely ignored others. After several minutes of verbal torture, a perky blonde waitress fought her way through the press and stopped at the end of your table. She sported a wide politician's smile not directed at the two of you, instead flashed to the surrounding cameras in search of fifteen minutes of fame.

“Hi guys,” she started, her voice unnaturally high pitched. “My name is Bethany, what can I get started for you today?”

“I’ll have a quinoa salad and cranberry juice, please.” You answered, handing Bethany your menu.

The press murmured imperceptible comments regarding your order, some even scribbling notes on napkins. “Quinoa… salad…”

“Just a coffee’s fine.” Ruby mumbled, order being followed by press comments as well.

As soon as Bethany walked away, the paparazzi shoved the cameras back in your face and bombarded you and Ruby with questions once more.

“Did you order cranberry juice because you like cranberry juice or because you have a UTI? How did you get this UTI?”

“I noticed you were the only one who ordered food. Could it be because you’re eating for two?”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you order food, Ruby? Are you battling some kind of eating disorder? Would you like to comment on it?”

“Enough!” Ruby exclaimed, perhaps louder than she should have.

Immediately, the press was silent, with only the sound of sporadic camera clicks being heard. Ruby turned to look at you, tears starting to well in her tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…” she whispered, getting up and running out of the restaurant.

“Ruby! Wait, please!” You stood up and ran after her, leaving the paparazzi in the dust behind you.

You found Ruby leaning against a building across the cafe. She had her head resting against the cool brick, and her face pointed to the sky while she blinked back tears threatening to fall.

A lump formed in your throat as you started to approach her. You couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked so… miserable.

“Ruby…” you muttered softly, reaching out your hand.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the concrete, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just wasn’t hungry! It’s barely ten in the fucking morning!”

You sighed. “Ruby, we both know that’s not what this is about. What’s going on?”

She sniffed, and focused her gaze on something behind you. “Can we… go somewhere else?”

Turning to see what Ruby was looking at, you noticed a teenage girl filming the two of you on her phone. You rolled your eyes, completely exasperated at this point.

“Let’s go.” You muttered, grabbing her hand to pull her away.

It didn’t take long to find a nearby alleyway, deserted except for an empty dumpster. You dragged Ruby into the back, letting go of her hand once the coast was clear.

“Talk.”

The pale brunette pushed her bangs out of her face, blinking a couple times while gathering her thoughts.

“I just… this is why my Instagram is private. This is why I’ve never explicitly labeled my sexuality. This is why I rarely talk about my personal life! I don’t want the media invading my space! I don’t want random strangers knowing intimate details about my life! It’s fucking freaky!”

You nodded, understanding her perspective, especially as you’d been recently dealing with the wrath of the paparazzi as well. She continued.

“I mean fuck! I can’t even order a damn coffee without some tabloid claiming I have a fucking eating disorder!”

Her breathing seemed to be evening out the more she spoke. She let out a shuddering breath and crossed her arms, staring at the gravel beneath her feet.

“I just… I just wanted to kiss you at an after-party. I missed you. And now everyone’s forcing us to be in this relationship and make it public but…”

“But no one asked us if we were even together,” you finished.

She nodded. “Exactly! We never even had a conversation just between us. Everyone just assumed.”

You pulled the brunette girl into your arms, wrapping them around her torso. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you stroked her soft locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known that’s how you felt…”

“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything, I… listen…”

She pulled away, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You waited for her to tell you that she didn’t want to see you again, that it was too hard, that it meant nothing.

You held your breath as she took your face in her hands, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“I like you.”

“You… huh?” Shock painted your features as Ruby said the last thing you were expecting to hear.

“I like you.” She repeated, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire eight months we didn’t talk. I should have reached out more, I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was scared? I don’t know…”

She was babbling, and you didn’t think she could get any cuter. You took her hands off your face and held them in yours, flashing her an encouraging smile.

“I like you too,” you replied giddily. “More than you know.”

Ruby chuckled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She stared down at the gravel again, chewing on her lip before speaking.

“I like you… I really do, but if we’re gonna start this… something, I’d want to take it slow and be completely private. No socials, no media, at least for now. Would… that be something you’re okay with?”

You squeezed her hands, flashing her a goofy grin. “I would… love that, actually.”

As you stared at your former celebrity crush, turned co-star, turned friend, turned… something, a wave of courage suddenly washed over you. Letting go of her hands, you seized her face and brought your lips to hers, tentatively, testing the waters. She gasped, but soon kissed back, sighing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned into your body.

You moved your hand towards the back of her neck, then slowly inched upwards until your fingers were entangled in her hair. An almost inaudible moan escaped her lips and vibrated against yours as you played with her soft tresses. You smirked into the kiss, remembering exactly how much she liked having her hair played with before getting caught at the after-party.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity, you pulled away from each other. The two of you gasped for breath, both smiling like giddy children at the other.

“So… what now?” You asked breathlessly.

Ruby hummed to herself, seemingly in thought. “We could… go on a real date? Just you and me? No paparazzi. There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I like to go to when I don’t want to get recognized.”

You tilted your head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “That sounds perfect, actually.”

Before leaving the alleyway, Ruby put her sunglasses back on and pulled her hood over her head again, while you dug your sunglasses out of your purse and readjusted your hat. The two of you were disguised, hidden from the world, but happy to be able to pursue each other away from public opinion.

Ruby reached out her hand, her blue eyes somehow still managing to shine behind her sunglasses. “Ready for this?”

You smiled back at her, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. “As I’ll ever be.”

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wandasreallover · 5 months ago

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I don't need your help

Mother!wanda maximoff

Warnings: overdose,addicton, self-inflicted homelessness, glass child, kind of bad parent lizzie

The lights of the bustling city reflected off countless glass windows as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a glow over the streets where dreams were often hidden beneath the concrete. You walked through those streets, a shadow among shadows, your heart growing heavy with the weight of loneliness. Your mother, Elizabeth Olsen, was one of the brightest stars in Hollywood, yet you often felt like the ghost that haunted the crevices of her life.

It wasn’t that she was a neglectful mother; she had simply always been engulfed in her own star-studded world. Film after film, awards and accolades rolled into your home, but amidst the glitz and glamour, there was a hollowness that echoed louder with each passing year. Robbie Annett, your father, was often absent too—caught up in the whirlwind of his own dreams, a talented artist lost in a vibrant canvas that rarely included you.

In your early years, you clung to the hope that they would notice your existence, that they would linger a moment longer and ask about your day or share in the little joys of life. But as an only child with parents who were globe-trotters, you learned to wear invisibility as a second skin. The ache of loneliness began to pulsate inside you, growing into a desperate need for validation, for love.

Over time, as your teenage years progressed, you decided enough was enough. You felt the last strands of hope slip through your fingers. When the whispers of parents excusing their absence with work became a constant tide, you decided to abandon the ideaof ever being a functional family, instead you did what you thought was best and took matters into your own hands.

It was a cold night when you took that leap into the unknown. You slipped out of the sprawling mansion, its walls adorned with framed accolades and photographs of happy family moments you scarcely remembered,half convincedthey never happened. The city, with all its gritty charm, welcomed you with open arms,ones that in this moment appear warmer than your own mothers.

But that embrace quickly turned into a chokehold. Initially, you wandered the streets, seeking solace in nameless faces and fleeting friendships, but reality was harsh. Days stretched into weeks, and soon, you found refuge in a group of lost souls who shared your pain. With them came a dark seduction: the world of drugs. At first, it numbed the constant ache of being unseen, the crushing weight of invisibility—it offered colours where only grey had existed.

You fell deeper into that lifestyle, losing track of days and nights until time became a blur. You danced with danger, laughed with strangers, and spiraled down to depths you never fathomed you could reach. Friends became foes, and soon you'd lost them all to the streets—the very streets that had promised liberation turned hostile.

Your parents, largely unaware of your struggles, were caught in the frenzy of awards season. They dazzled on red carpets and faced cameras that sang their praises, all the while their child was fighting demons of addiction in the dark corners of the city's underbelly.

After years of existence in that harsh reality, the world you created shattered into chaos one awful night. You overdosed, the cool pavement of a forgotten alley becoming your cold embrace. It was a rough reality check, a moment of silence where the bustling sounds of the city faded away as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Days later, as the sun poured over the city once more, your mother found you. Elizabeth came rushing through the streets, a storm of frantic emotion, propelled by instinct and a desperate hope to reconnect. She had decided to take a break from her hectic schedule, yearning for a moment of peace after the buzz of her latest premiere. With your father by her side, they searched for you, calling your name into the ether.

When she saw you lying there, pale and still, all her world came crashing down. The applause from the audience faded into a deafening silence as she knelt beside you. The real-world noise faded, and all that existed was an overwhelming wave of regret. She touched your cheek, tears streaming down her face, for all the moments she had missed—the birthdays uncelebrated, the laughter unshared, the sadness left unheard.

In the seconds that felt like hours, you opened your eyes, the sun catching the tear streaks on her face, your mother's frantic exclamations blending with the sirens that wailed in the distance. The love that had been overshadowed by your invisible life suddenly ignited like a beacon amidst the darkness.

As the paramedics took you to the hospital, she held your hand tightly, whispering promises of support, of change, of hope—a promise to rewrite the story that had been marred with neglect.

The road to recovery was a long and arduous one. She spent countless days sitting by your side, sharing stories of her life with you, each narrative woven with love and a desire to understand the child she had taken for granted. Your father, too, joined this journey, his artistry now painted with the strums of tenderness and care.

In time, as you battled the shadows within, your family learned to be a unit again, to be present and to truly see each other. The crowded red carpets began to feel empty compared to the warmth of your mother’s embrace, the raw essence of moments spent with your father in the quiet, away from cameras.

Though the journey was long and strewn with challenges, you slowly rebuilt the bridges that time had eroded. Elizabeth and Robbie, once faraway figures, became your anchors—each conversation, each shared meal, and each tear shed together slowly rewrote the narrative that once threatened to trap you in eternal darkness.

With every passing day, you reclaimed your identity, stepping out of the shadows and into the light of possibility, knowing now that you were seen, you were loved, and you were no longer invisible. In that dance between shadows and light, you found hope—hope for a brighter future wrapped in the unbreakable bonds of family, even amidst the chaos of their stardom.

And so, you grew, not just as Elizabeth Olsen’s child but as your own person, carving a path that was uniquely yours, forever moving away from the darkness and towards the light.

A/n-this is a little bit of an autobiography but i didn't have a lizzie

#elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen fluff #elizabeth olsen x reader #mother!Elizabeth olsen #Elizabeth olsen x reader angst

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glassrowboat · 2 months ago

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In Black & White. Reca.

Summary: After being hit with the harsh reality of just how people saw you all you really wanted to do was sit down, cuddle up, and watch a movie, but Reca always did like doing things his way.

Author's note: Before more modernized projectors became a thing (or someone simply messed with theirs) they had to use two projectors to play a full film because of the amount of tape they would be able to play in one sitting.

The constant click, click, click of a projector turned into a whirring hum, filling the otherwise strangely quiet space with its effort to turn the reel. It sat comfortably, secure, and most importantly threaded through the gate to allow the scene before you to play; at first it started with a few flickers and a blurry image before slowly becoming crystal clear all for the sake of sharing the image of a couple sitting together in a park.

Clearly, the reel had just been changed.

You didn't need anyone to tell you that, not when you could pick up on the occasional rustle behind you as Reca carried the last reel between his hands as delicately as he could bring himself to when Reca was running around. A tag was slapped onto it with messy handwriting reading out the last movie he must have been playing before, leaving you to just barely make out the words with narrowed eyes before they were carried away.

“And this goes over here,” he muttered to himself as Reca went to place the silver reel where it belonged. For a moment the projector almost seemed to shut off as he walked in front of it only for the image you had been intensely staring at for the past few minutes to be restored a second later in black and white. In comparison, the bright red curtains framing the screen seemed to pop out, begging to be seen even when your eyes tore away from it.

With a sigh you tilt your head back slightly to catch the sight of Reca's trench coat fluttering behind him as he runs around the makeshift theater; he was moving so fast you couldn't even see the embroidered details on the fabric. “Are you going to sit down and join me,” you asked. “Because if you keep going like this, you'll miss something.”

“Miss something?” Reca scoffed. “Now that isn't possible.”

A single long stride was all it took before Reca's hand fell to your shoulder, the comforting feeling of warmth you would normally expect from another simply nonexistent as his touch lingered. Just like any other memetic entity he lacked the distinct heat you would feel from anyone who had blood pumping away under their skin, leaving you with nothing more than a chill down your spine as Reca's lips lingered by your ear. His voice filled your mind, almost drowning out the thoughts that had been weighing you down all day as each word he uttered matched the script the actor before you was reciting. And that was all without the aid of subtitles.

“See?” He asked after a moment had passed, his hand squeezing your arm before it fell away. Somehow, that, too, left you hyper aware of Reca's actions as he hovered behind the seat you were currently occupying. “I could recite this entire script by heart, sweetness. Meaning: I can't miss a thing.”

His confidence truly could never be shattered, and it left you grumbling to yourself and calling Reca a showoff before pushing him back to continuing with his task with a shove. “You memokeepers and your near perfect memories.”

Quickly, before he lost the chance, Reca pressed a kiss to your cheek, making sure to make an obnoxiously loud mwah sound with it.

Your eyes crinkled at the feeling as a smile came to your face, but it fell away just as quickly when Reca pulled away to go back to setting up the second projector.

Reca always did stress the importance of authenticity, from outsourcing as many props he could from antique malls or elsewhere to getting as genuine of a reaction he could from any actor he was working with. This went all the way to using the same format a movie was originally premiered no matter the occasional flickers of static you were catching. They were simply part of the charm. At least, that's what always Reca says.

He exuded love for his craft, letting it bleed into him to the point that nothing else could distract Reca when he got going. It left you with nothing to do but groan and look down at the Assistant Director now that your phone was safely tucked away in your back pocket. She was currently occupying the seat next to yours, her little webbed feet comfortably sinking into the plush cushions below her. “Can you believe him? He's the one that suggested watching this, and yet-”

She simply croaked.

And you couldn't understand her at all. Still… “I'm glad you agree with me.”

Her little webbed foot reached out to smack your finger, stopping you from fixing her beret back in place as the metal met your extended digit, causing you to cry out a small ouch.

Briefly, you swore you could hear Reca snickering to himself, most likely because he actually heard what the Assistant Director said. “She doesn't. Far from it, in fact, but I can appreciate the rigor of your attempt to get her to side with you.”

“Thanks.”

“You are so very welcome!”

Sighing to yourself, you sank further in your chair, letting the soft velvet material swallow you into its embrace. Reca's assurances of “one more minute” were commonplace when he was enjoying himself, and at this point, you knew it was just easier to let him have his fun.

It was only when you heard something be slotted into place and Reca assuring himself that “yes, that works” did he join you, taking up the seat to your left with crossed legs and a hand taking your own. Your intertwined hands laid on the arm rest between you both, blocking Reca off from sprawling himself over your lap like he would usually try to whenever he could. Though, given the spark in his eye, you could already tell he was considering it anyway. Back problems be damned.

“Now, settle in and be prepared to be awed.”

At his insistence, you turned your eyes away from his wild gesturing and looked back over at the screen.

It was a simple scene, clearly fit for the beginning of a film still trying to lay out its setting for the viewer.

The backdrop of the park changed to a bustling street full of people as the two main characters, both man and woman, tried their best to wade through the tide of the crowd.

It was only a second later as the wide cityscape was pictured, spreading far and wide across the screen with buildings sweeping by, did the title card finally make its appearance in large, loopy writing.

The movie played on as your grip on Reca’s hand got tighter and tighter.

Eagerly, he told you every little detail about the film, adding in details about the characters that Reca promises won't spoil the story, problems during production he learned secondhand, what props were so infamous they were stored away for safekeeping, and anything else that seemed to randomly come to his mind. Truly, he would be amazing in movie trivia. You could even picture him in your mind's eye, wowing everyone with his collective of fun facts and gaining the ire of those aiming to win because of course he would. That's just how your Reca is.

Your Reca….

Your grip on his hand got tighter to the point you could feel the creases of his gloves digging into your skin.

“And you see that actor there? She was originally planning to turn down her role before being convinced otherwise by the director. That truly goes to show you that only the greatest directors, such as I,” Reca's free hand fell to his chest, “know exactly what we're doing.”

“That's great, Reca.” You mumbled. Your voice faded off until it was barely audible. You could barely manage to get yourself to sound louder than a sigh from the moment you opened your mouth, but you still managed to push the assurance you were listening to him out.

His eyes fell on you, those red play buttons you usually loved to make fun of staring you down only for a harsh yell of “cut” to break through the air.

Your head immediately whipped around to Reca at his sudden exclamation, only for you to catch the sight of his fingers snapping together to pause the movie. The projector stilled on a single frame right as your jaw started to lock. Teeth grinding together. You only stopped when a dull ache started to form, causing your mouth to open in an attempt to say anything. Something.

“Couldn't you have just done that earlier to save us the trouble of the whole setup? Like-” Actually, it might just be best not to question how Reca's powers work.

“You.”

His finger was in your face before you could even say the word “me” in a questioning tone.

“Yes, you. You have been acting out of character since the moment you got here.”

Behind you, the Assistant Director croaked.

“She agrees as well.” Reca politely translated.

The temptation to ask what your usual character is snuck up, creeping up behind you on tiptoes and daring to jump out so you could divert this entire conversation onto another track, but you knew when Reca actually bothered to be serious about something there wasn't much point in trying to dodge his questioning. He would get his answers eventually, sometimes in the oddest of ways.

“Okay. I…”

Yet you still couldn't say it.

Not that you had to when Reca said it for you.

“It's the papers, isn't it?”

Your lips pursed. “You do know most people don't call online news ‘papers’ these days, right?”

“I am simply adlibbing a line or two. A little off script verbiage keeps things fresh.” Leaning in towards you Reca said “like making sure you're okay. I can't have my love interest focusing on anything but this scene. After all, there's no passion if your mind is elsewhere.”

“And we can't have that?”

“Why, not at all!”

His hand took your chin, tilting it his way just to make sure you couldn't miss the soft smile he was wearing exclusively for you.

“Everything they said is nonsense, sugarbear.”

Your half-hearted chuckle at his classic, but still just as terrible as ever, pet names tampered off quickly when those words, typed in black and white, flickered across your mind's eye. Both your and Reca’s names were side by side in bold print at the top of an article talking about your relationship. That's how you discovered people thought you weren't with him as a loving partner, but as a clout chaser. They claimed that just because you were a upping comer in the industry, that meant you were a willing leech to his fame. That you were trying to use Reca to make your big break. It was as if they thought your entire being could be summarized with one measly word: a sycophant.

“I don't know, Reca. I mean…”

“Journalists always spit drivel. This is just their newest garbage put to the written word.”

You couldn't help but agree even when your voice was still weak and sounded nothing like you, but then again, so did those articles. They could come up with whatever they wanted, pick a new shiny label to slap onto your name and call it a story.

Right now, they had all the power, and all you could do was curl up and watch the comments agree that, yes, you are just using their beloved Director Reca.

Maybe in the next one, you'll be labeled a gold digger, too, or a Reca obsessed fangirl that can't think of anything else. You could almost see the comments now, claiming you'd say something like “do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, Reca” because all you were in their eyes was a hollow shell of the obsessive girlfriend stereotype without anything else to you. They didn't even care that you had a story that made you you.

Hell, it was possible you weren't even a person in their eyes.

"Just...can we just get back to the movie?”

“I don't think so. Not yet, anyway.”

“But you told me you wanted to share one of your favorites with me.”

Reca's hand slid away from your chin, robbing the comfort you were taking in the feeling of his fingers against your skin only for those same slender digits to fall back on your nose and pinch it in his grasp. For a moment, he shook it, forcing your head along with the movement much to your annoyance. Your irritation only got worse when he started talking to you in a baby voice. “Well, now, aren't you being cockamamie? If you're so worried about it, I can perform a one man show, a true artist's version of this movie, especially for you.”

Immediately, you bat his hand away, muttering about how his nose privileges were being revoked.

“You're hopeless. Here I am in the dumps and you're talking about putting on a show.”

“Ah, so you do admit to letting that dredge of a story get to you.” Reca's hand fully pulled away from your poor nose to lay on his chest right over his heart. “You always love to pretend like nothing gets to you, but here you are admitting that what's being said has put a dampener on your mood yourself. Your growth would surely enrapture any audience.”

At this point, you had long since gotten used to Reca's manners of speech, but sometimes….

“This ‘audience’” you air quoted, “are the people online slandering my name because they think I'm using you.”

“No, in fact. I believe you have forgotten your most important audience members: Assistant Director and I. We both know you too well to ever think that's what your goal has been this entire time.”

You sighed. “Right. Of course.”

“Honey pie,” Reca cooed, dragging out the vowels as long as he could. “I know better. No actor could ever match the enthusiasm I catch a glint of in your eyes every time you see me. And trust me, I know a thing or two about acting.”

A thing or two felt like an understatement. Just the very idea that's all Reca knew after all the times he's talked about how great his skills as a director are had you huffing out a laugh. “You're ridiculous.”

“I'd gladly claim that title if it came from you.”

“And absurd.”

“And what else?”

“And a frivolous, silly man. You're a drama queen! And….and…”

Reca hummed, taking this far too nonchalantly for your liking as he peeked up at you through his bangs with a playful wink. He was the complete opposite to your current flustered state. “Perhaps instead of using the name “Mr Reca” at the end credits for my next film, we use one of your suggestions instead.”

You quickly shot that idea down.

“Well,” Reca's hands clapped together, “Now that we've gotten that built-up anger off our chests - though it's a shame I didn't stop to capture your performance - are you feeling better?”

“I'd feel better if I could yell at the journalist who posted the damn article without having it come back and bite me in the ass.”

“Oh I understand completely. I've gotten a bad review or two in my time from people who hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about I couldn't forget about for weeks. It got so bad I could barely bring myself to hold a camera.”

“No way.”

You couldn't even picture it. Reca, moping around when he was in a creative rut, wasn't anything new to you, but to the point he couldn't even bring himself to line his eye up with a camera? It was almost unthinkable to you.

“Yes way, my precious little star. I could barely even bring myself to get out of bed some days”- that seemed like dramatization- “and was stuck simply lying around waiting for the thoughts plaguing me to finally be edited out of my mind.”

“You mean to be forgotten?”

“That's what I said!”

“Sure,” you drawled out.

“And eventually, I learned that letting those reviews get to me was doing nothing to help me. They weren't even film critics! Only random people weighing in their two cents on a movie they couldn't even understand when their media literacy was in the ground.”

You could already feel your eyes rolling involuntarily. “The horror.”

“Exactly! It was horrific! And now you're letting the same thing get to you. You're letting these people who have no experience in criticizing you get to you.”

That was….such a Reca way of getting his point across.

“You're….You're hopeless.”

“And you're smiling.”

“Involuntarily.”

Your grin had only widened as Reca leaned over the arm of the chair, just as you knew he wanted to, to plant a wet kiss on the cheek he didn't get before.

And another.

And another until you were lying beneath him with your legs kicking in the air as you tried to escape from the endless amounts of kisses you were being smothered with. You barely even noticed Assistant Director leaping out of the way so she wouldn't get crushed by your combined weights as his lips traveled from your forehead to your stomach Reca had exposed to the cool air, stale with the smell of popcorn, as he pushed it out of the way to rest his head on. Strands of his hair tickled your skin with every breath you took as you tried to recover from the giggling fit he had evoked.

When your laughter had finally calmed down, your hand brushed through Reca's hair, pushing it out of the way to catch a glimpse of him. With the light of the projector, you could clearly see him, handsome as ever, even when his face was half hidden by your belly. In a way, it was nice to see you next to him at the top of the latest news outlet article, because at least then people knew he was yours.

Your Reca.

“I'm still not happy about what they're saying about me, and I won't be able to forget it just like that, but thank you. For, uh, listening.”

“Of course, dear. Anytime.”

The articles would still be there tomorrow haunting the back of your mind, but for now you huddled close to Reca and welcomed his not so warm embrace as you two tried to get comfortable in the theaters chairs.

“Do you still want to watch the movie?” You asked as you looked back over at the screen. Funnily enough, the two leads were together again, holding each other tight just like you were with Reca, if not a bit more gracefully.

“Unfortunately I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down this time.”

A surprised guffaw escaped you as your attention snapped back down to Reca at his refusal to watch a film- of all things.

“I meant it when I said you would get a performance: a play featuring Assistant Director and I that would be worthy of the silver screen. By the time we're done, you'll be rewarding us with a standing ovation. As you already know, I never disappoint my audience.”

Ignoring his wink, you asked: “and how are you planning to do that splayed across me like a blanket?”

“Your doubt in my acting ability hurts.” Reca whined, a single gloved hand already going up to fall across his forehead. “I assure you I could wow you on your lap or in the grandest of theaters with all spotlights trained on the stage and waiting for the show to commence…but I simply wanted one more minute like this.”

Your hand brushed through his hair again, running through the strands until you were playing with the white ends of his graying hair. It wrapped around your fingers easily, and with a single tug, you captured his attention.

“One more minute, then.”

#word count: 3k #hoyoverse #x reader #honkai sr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #mr reca #mr reca x reader #reca x reader #mr reca x you #mr reca x y/n #fem reader #banner by sister-lucifer #/glasswrites

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mochie85 · 11 months ago

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A Reunion

One Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: A chance meeting with someone from your past makes you relive the worst moments of high school. Luckily, your best friend, Bucky is there to help you forget. Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Female reader. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Fluff. Flirtatious Bucky. Use of Y/N (only once) Taglist: Join here Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Oh god! No, no, no.” You exclaimed as quietly as you could. You turned around and hid behind your hand, covering your face. Bucky was confused- chuckling as he watched you try to make yourself smaller, unnoticeable. As if that were ever possible, he thought.

“What’s wrong? Wh-why are you hiding?” He asked as he tried to follow your gaze.

“STOP IT! SHH!” You tried to shush him. Trying to make him stop jerking his head around and calling attention to your table.

“Why are you HIDING?!” he yelled louder to annoy you. Your eyes grew big with anger, and you kicked him under the table. He laughed and pretended to be hurt as he rubbed his poor shin.

“Ok. Don’t look now, but the woman to your seven was someone I knew in high school.” You whispered to him. Bucky turned his head to see the lady in question. “I SAID DON’T LOOK!” you whisper-yelled as you kicked him once again.

“Doll, if you keep that up, I might need a metal leg to match my arm.” He said rubbing where you kicked him.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…she brings out the worst in me. Whatever I got, she got, but better. Always better,” you said with a sneer. “When I got tickets to go see my favorite band, she got premiere passes.” Bucky smiled and shrugged. “She hated The Gorillaz! Said she never got the whole cartoon thing.” His demeanor gave you the impression he didn’t think it was that bad.

“I worked for two years to buy myself a used car. What did she get? A brand-new Lexus with daddy’s credit card. The same weekend I bought my car! She didn’t even know how to drive! Her older brother dropped her off at school every morning. Everyone had a crush on him. They all wanted to be her friend because of Bryce. And she knew it.”

“Everyone…had a crush on him?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at you. You simply narrowed your eyes back at him.

“Not the point, Barnes. When I applied to CalTech for college, she said she wasn’t interested in West Coast schools. A few months later, she showed me an acceptance letter from them! I didn’t even know she had the grades or the extracurriculars to pull it off. Turns out, there was a sizeable donation to the school’s robotics program made so generously from her family.”

“Sounds like she just really wanted to be you,” Bucky said smirking.

“Ya. So much so, that she stole my boyfriend senior year!” you spat out.

“Ouch,” Bucky hissed. “Ok, ya. That one’s a low blow.” He turned his head inconspicuously again to get a better look at your so-called friend. She was beautiful; in the sense that everything was well-manicured and put together. Not a hair out of place. She had an aura of money- evident by the sparkle of her well-placed jewelry.

Bucky turned back to you. You had a more natural beauty. You didn’t try too hard, it just shone out. He’s seen you undercover before in one of the missions where you had to be dolled up. God help him, you knocked everyone out. Even Loki took a break from his brooding to look at you. Bucky has never been the same since.

“Look. It was a long time ago. I tried to go my separate way after high school. I honestly don’t even know if she attended CalTech or not. But what I do know is that I don’t want to see her.”

“Y/N is that you?!” you heard a shrill voice come closer.

Shit.

You put on your show smile. The smile you reserve for undercover missions. “Rachel! What a lovely surprise.” She went up to you along the iron fence of the café’s patio and tried to hug you.

She kissed you on both sides of your cheek as she said, “I didn’t know you were back in New York. I thought you would’ve stayed in California.” You didn’t miss the way her eyes scanned you up and down, homing in on things to probably critique you with.

Her eyes also kept drifting back between you and Bucky. “Wait, I’ve seen you before.” She said pointing to him. “Aren’t you an Avenger?” she squealed.

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky answered, saluting casually with a smile.

“Rachel, this is James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Bucky, this is a friend of mine from high school, Rachel,” you introduced.

“Wow,” Rachel said, shaking hands with Bucky. “Bucky, is it?”

“James. Bucky is for close friends only,” he said with a practiced smile.

“I’ve never met a superhero before,” she charmed.

“Of course, you have. Dollface over here.” Bucky said pointing to you. Your smile faltered slightly at having the attention thrown back your way.

“Oh my gosh, that’s right! I’ve seen some of your heroics on TV! Amazing work.” Rachel said to you.

“Thank you.” You said surprised. Maybe this happenstance might not be so bad after all. Maybe she has changed.

“All that training and the time outdoors have done wonders for your body and your complexion. You look so much healthier now!”

Nope! She’s still horrible!

“She’s always been lovely,” Bucky interjected, giving you a half smile.

“Oh. My. Gosh. That’s so cute!” she said in a mock baby voice. “How romantic. How long have you two been together?” Rachel asked, prying and pointing in between the both of you.

“Oh, we’re just friends.” You were quick to throw in. You didn’t want Bucky to feel uncomfortable around you and have to explain anything he didn’t need to.

Rachel just looked between you and Bucky. Her eyes delaying in his direction. “Well, now that I know you’re in town, you must come to the charity event my dad is hosting next week. I know for a fact that your boss is going to be there!”

“My boss? Fury?”

“Fury, who? Is that what he’s calling himself nowadays? Yes. He and his wife Pepper have already RSVP’d.”

“Oh, you mean Tony?” you asked.

“He’s not our boss,” Bucky corrected with slight irritation.

“Oh, well, sure. Ok, I can send him the invite and let him know to forward it to you,” she smiled sweetly at you. “And maybe a plus one…” she said, her eyes darting to Bucky quickly.

“We might be busy. You know…saving the world and all,” you quickly declined. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in an event with her and some of her uptight friends.

“Already sent!” she said ignoring you and tapping on her phone. “I hope to see you both there!” She smiled at you and gave Bucky a wink. “We’ll be friends in no time, Bucky!” she said to him as a promise. Not if I have anything to do with it, you thought.

“Ugh. If she thinks that Tony can tell us what to do and go to this party, then she’s just as self-absorbed as she was in high school. You can’t just tell people what to do because you have money!”

“You have to go!” Tony ordered.

“No!” you answered back.

“Pepper and I can’t make it. Morgan’s got a play and Peter is competing at a science fair. You guys are the only other ones invited. You have to go.”

“What do you mean, have to? I don’t have to do anything! Especially go to an event where I won’t know anybody except for my mortal enemy!” you argued.

“Mortal enemy?! Aren’t you being a tad overdramatic now? Besides, you go to my parties all the time. I don’t see you ever complaining about going.”

“That’s because I like the people I’m with and you have an open bar for all the Avengers!”

“Not to Asgardians!”

“Only because they can outdrink everyone IN THE STATE!”

“Why are you YELLING?! WHAT ARE WE EVEN FIGHTING ABOUT?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” You and Tony squared off, looking at each other with your arms crossed.

“Look, her family are big investors in Adamantium. Her mother is in a council to help get in favor with the Wakandans to get Vibranium…” Tony tried to reason.

“Do you even need Vibranium? I’m pretty sure Steve could just call King T’Challa right now.”

“Not the point…” Tony tried again.

“Heck, Bucky over there probably has Shuri’s number!” you quarreled back, pointing to Bucky lounging on the sofa.

“The princess? No. But I do have Okoye’s. She checks in on me from time to time,” Bucky admitted, knocking on his metal arm.

“You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time, Barnes. Don’t you have anything to say about it? Don’t you want to go? You’re invited too.” Tony addressed him.

“I’ll go if dollface over here goes. And only then.” He stretched out and placed his arms behind his head, pulling his baseball cap over his eyes, signaling the end of his input into the subject.

“I’m not going, Tony. You can’t make me!” you yelled petulantly.

“Consider this an undercover mission. Okay?” Tony placated. “Go. Mingle. Charm everyone in the room. Gather some intel on your mortal enemy. Wine and dine them, then come home.” You squinted your eyes at him.

“Do it for Morgan. She would be so upset if mummy and daddy weren’t there to see her debut as apple tree #2…or was it #3? And Peter! He worked for months on his science project! Think of the sad teary eyes he would have when he sees we’re not there to support him. You don’t want Spider-Man to have sad, teary eyes, would you?!”

“Ugh, it’s not fair you’re using the munchkins as your excuse!”

“I don’t play fair. Especially when it comes to the kids, I would do anything to make the munchkins happy. You know this. Even putting you in the hands of your mortal enemy! Mwuahaha” Tony wrung his hands like a classic villain bent on world domination.

“For Morgan!” you pointed to his chest. ��And Peter! Not for you. Not for all the Adamantium in the world. Understand?!”

“Completely!”

“And you’re paying for my dress!”

“Ugh, fine,” Tony said with a sigh.

“And shoes!”

“What happened to the last pair of Louboutins I got you?!”

“I had to be resourceful,” you said lifting your chin. “I used it to stab a HYDRA agent in the neck,” you smugly admitted. Tony and Bucky winced.

“Fine. Shoes too,” Tony conceded. “And you, Manchurian Candidate? Need anything?” he turned to Bucky.

“Ya. My gun is jamming even after I’ve already cleaned it. Do you think you can get me a different type of lube?” Bucky asked with a straight face. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but suppress your laughter from behind your hand.

“I’m dealing with children,” Tony mumbled under his breath as he started to leave.

“Buck!” you chuckled.

“What?! It’s for the gun! I swear!” he shrugged, proudly smiling that he made you laugh.

You sat next to him on the couch. Your whole body turned towards him as he rested his hand on your knee. “Are you really gonna go with me?” you asked timidly.

“Honestly, I thought you’d never listen to Tony and just flat-out refuse. I was counting on it.” You gasped looking him dead in the eye. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight!” he laughed as you grabbed a throw pillow and repeatedly hit him in the chest. “Ow! Dollface. Stop it!” he chuckled. “Jesus, you’re violent.”

“I could’ve used your help! If you didn’t want to go, you should’ve said something! He couldn’t make both of us go! Big help you were!” you huffed as you settled on the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” he said still chuckling. He pulled you in closer to him as you cradled his body towards yours. It was effortless. He wrapped his left arm over your shoulders and you lost count of all the times he would hold you like this, in the safety of his arms. It never made you feel cold or shiver. It made you feel safe. Protected. Like you could take on the world (and your mortal enemy) as long as he was with you. “It can’t be that bad, can it? You, me, all dressed up with a night on the town. All on Tony’s dime,” he answered looking into your eyes.

Whenever you caught his eyes, you always got lost in them. Blue- like a sunny sky on a cloudless beach. So, when Bucky painted this wonderful fantasy, you could vividly picture it. Little flutters in your stomach sprung forth at the thought of Bucky all dressed up. Looking as menacing as ever. “I hate that you’re being dragged into this. I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Why are you sorry? I’d never leave a man down. Especially you.” You suddenly felt the weight of his body pressed next to you.

“Ok. I guess I feel better about going.”

“Geez, she’s gonna kill me!” Bucky cried as he punched another agent in the face.

“Come now, soldier. What could she genuinely do?” Loki asked, trying to make Bucky feel better.

“You don’t know how resourceful she could be. What she could do with a pair of pointy heels!” Bucky answered.

“Oh, I know. I was there on that mission,” Loki chuckled. “You’re not that late. Besides…” he trailed off as he sunk his dagger into the oncoming HYDRA agent. “This was an emergency: life and death and all that. I’m sure she’ll understand,” Loki said dismissively.

“I don’t even have a suit! I forgot to get one! Oh, man! I can’t show up looking like this! I’m gonna embarrass her in front of her friends!” Bucky spread his arms out, looking down at his leather uniform splattered with ash and blood. His bright metal hand, flexing, as he brought his arm around again to deliver a final blow to the last agent standing.

Loki huffed, cleaving his dagger off some unsuspecting enemy. “Fear not, my friend, for we are finished with our chores, and I think it’s time for Cinderella to go to the ball, yes?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll be your proverbial godmother,” Loki spread his arms with a wide grin.

I’m gonna kill him! NO! First, I’m gonna take his metal arm and bash him over the head with it. THEN, I’m gonna kill him!

Bucky had stood you up. You spent the better part of the afternoon getting dressed and working your hair and make-up to go to this party that you didn’t even want to go to. Only to have Bucky be a no-show.

You thought back to what could’ve gone wrong. Did he forget? Was it your fault? You spent so much time dreading this party that you forgot to set any details with him. You didn’t want to think about it or give it any power over you. So, discussing the particulars with him might’ve slipped from your mind.

When you went to his room to leave together, he wasn’t there. FRIDAY said he had already left. So, you assumed that he took a separate ride to the party. Slightly crestfallen, you had Happy drop you off at the main entrance to the museum where the party was being held. Hoping you would catch him on the way in. But he wasn’t here either.

Now here you were, three canapés down with a flute of tepid Riesling, pretending to look at the portraits and paintings rather than engage with anyone else in conversation. You were seething. Your anger must’ve been evident because people avoided you all night. One look at you and they quickly turned as if you were the plague incarnate. Just like high school all over again.

“Y/N is that you?!” Rachel’s shrill voice echoed in the vast room. You closed your eyes, stilling your already fraying nerves. You turned to face her and were met, not only by her but by a crowd of people following her as well. “I hardly recognized you! You clean up so well.”

“Thank you, Rachel,” you said with sarcasm dripping out from every syllable.

“You remember my brother, Bryce,” she said gesturing to the guy standing next to her. Bryce looked handsome and dashing in his tailored black tuxedo. And he knew it too! He had the air of someone who was used to getting whatever and whomever he wanted. Evident by the not-so-subtle way he looked you up and down and leered.

“Of course. Bryce how are you?” you asked, offering your hand for a shake.

“On-shan-tay,” he said with a haughty fake accent. He took your offered hand and kissed the back of it, feeling the sticky Chapstick from his lips. God, at least you hope it was Chapstick. The whole act made you cringe. It wasn’t as smooth or as charming as Loki would’ve done it. It definitely wasn’t the comforting hug and kiss Bucky would’ve left on your cheek. He would’ve squeezed you tight till you went limp in his arms.

Thinking about Bucky made you miss him. You only hope he had a good reason as to why he stood you up tonight. You tried to hide the snide in your lips as you pried your hand back from Bryce. You wiped it behind you, surreptitiously stepping to the side, giving more space in between you.

“Are you here by yourself? I thought you would’ve brought your handsome friend with you.” Rachel said loudly enough for her crowd to hear. “Oh Y/N, you always were the lone wolf. Never one to have any serious relationships. Even in high school,” she chuckled lightly, prompting her friend group to smile and jeer behind her.

“Yes. It was difficult. Especially when someone stole my boyfriend senior year,” you criticized.

Rachel chuckled with a tight look on her face, “I can’t believe you still remember that?! That was so long ago. We were children! And besides, I did you a favor. He would’ve broken your heart anyway. Like he did mine. All he talked about was school and getting into college. He never had time for me. Ugh, men! You can’t live with them, you can’t live without them,” she laughed, signaling her flunkies behind her to follow suit.

You balled the napkin you had in your hand and clutched it tightly. If your hands are busy, they can’t punch anyone in the face, right?

Right?!

“There you are! Sorry, I’m late, dollface. I got held up at work.” Bucky’s voice cut through the nightmarish gaggle of taunts and laughs. They parted to let him through and stared as he passed every one of them, leaving them to gawk in wonder.

Including you! You were right. Bucky did clean up really well. His usual disheveled hair was styled. His black tux had satin lapels that shone under the museum spotlights. But what pulled it off even more, and what made him look so dangerously tempting, was the slight cut in his lower lip. Coupled with the faint sheen of his exposed metal hand, made him look menacing and downright sinful.

When he reached you, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck. He kissed your cheek as he inhaled your perfume.

“Bucky, what happened? You’re hurt!” you exclaimed wiping his lower lip with your thumb. He winced slightly when you touched his gash, holding your hand to his cheek.

“I’m sorry I was late, but there was an urgent mission I had to take care of. I would’ve gotten word to you sooner, but it was all very hush-hush. You know how these things are,” he apologized, taking the palm of your hand and kissing it.

You looked him over after hearing the news, making sure he wasn’t injured. He should be at home resting. Not here, pretending to have a good time so you could save face for a bunch of nobodies from high school.

“Don’t fuss over me, sweetheart. I’m fine, really!” he insisted.

“But-”

“Don’t worry about me…let me look at you!” he said nudging you gently from his embrace. He twirled you around making you smile at his playfulness. “Wow! Gorgeous, dollface! You look good!” his smirk ignited something inside you. A momentary predacious look from his eyes had you feeling shy and flustered. “You look real good!” he said subconsciously licking his lips.

“One question though,” Bucky said, interrupting your sinful thoughts about what he could do with that tongue. “Whose this guy?!” he asked, pointing his thumb to Bryce. Bucky’s tone was serious and possessive. He hadn’t even looked at anyone else since you locked eyes with him. And frankly, you had forgotten anyone else was in the room.

You looked over to Rachel and Bryce, along with her adoring minions, who were now curious as they watched you and Bucky have your own intimate reunion.

“Bucky! You remember my classmate Rachel from the cafe,” you said pointing in her direction. “This is her brother, Bryce.”

“Bucky! It’s so nice to see you again!” Rachel sweetly spoke as she touched his shoulder and let her fingers trail down his arm. Bucky stopped her hand and shook it in greeting.

“It’s James,” he corrected. “Mr. Barnes, if you’re dollface over here,” he winked at you. “Nice to meet you Bryan, but if you will excuse us, I need to make up for my absence by giving this beautiful woman here all my attention.”

“It’s Bryce!” he shouted back, but by then Bucky had gotten you halfway across the floor as you looked back and gave both Rachel and Bryce an exaggerated apology. Bucky twirled you once again and held you close to his chest. Leaving you giggling as you wrapped both your arms around his neck.

“You made it!” you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that familiar safety and security of being in his arms. “I thought you- never mind. I guess it doesn’t matter now that you’re here.” You looked down straightening his bow tie and fixing his lapels. Embarrassed about what you were about to confess.

“You thought I’d forgotten about you? You of all people?” He hooked your chin as he led your eyes to look at him. “Never!” The promise in his voice never wavered. And the teasing in his eyes made you lose your inhibitions.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered as you leaned in and kissed his soft lips. He stood there frozen, wide-eyed, and watching, as you kissed him for the very first time.

This kiss would change everything between you. He knew that, but did you? He’s imagined kissing you like this for so long. To finally make you his. But he never acted on it, afraid that you would reject his advances. He froze, wondering what this could mean for your relationship. You felt him stiffen. He stood still, letting you kiss him and not reciprocate any affection back.

OMG, I made a huge mistake. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t-” You pulled away as tears welled at the bottom of your eyes. You had taken a chance and it didn’t pay off. He didn’t feel the same way. You were blindsided by his whole entrance. His whole presence, that you mistook it for interest. The memories of high school came full circle with the feelings of rejection that sprung forth, heating your body in embarrassment.

He pulled you back into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, held you just a bit closer, and kissed you back with the hunger and ferocity you had only fantasized about late at night.

He opened his mouth to moan out your name and you didn’t care who was watching at this point. You were finally kissing Bucky, and just like everything else about him, it was better than you had ever imagined.

He winced slightly at the tug of your mouth, and you quickly stopped to see if he was ok- remembering his cut lip.

“No, do it again. I liked it,” he blushed.

“Well, well, well. I learn something new about you every day, Mr. Barnes.”

“Keep calling me ‘Mr. Barnes’ and you’ll learn a whole new side of me,” he teased.

A/N: Inspired by a chance meeting I had with my mortal enemy. This has been sitting on my editing notes for FOREVER. And if I don't publish it now, I fear that I will just keep adding onto the story.

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