#and like he's already in a fake relationship with another actress for publicity so READER NEEDS TO REMAIN HIDDEN

[omgeto]

OKAY PEOPLE WHAT IF I TURN MY BABY DADDY!GOJO AU into FAMOUS CELEBRITY BABY DADDY!GOJO AU. what difference does it make you ask? none really? BUT it spurred in my head as I watching a TIK TOK.

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #3

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter four out ! index

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Early March 2024

Okay. Maybe Drew was a little attractive. 

Or was he always attractive? Or was it because you haven’t seen him in weeks, and you just forgot about how he looked like? Either way, the man sitting next to you in the car was not the same guy that you met with weeks ago. 

He cleaned himself up good, dressed in a nice white button up and jeans, styled his short hair a bit, and sunglasses that he was sponsored for. The watch adds a richer vibe to it, and several rings on his hand. 

Nah. It’s his outfit that makes him look so attractive right now. Definitely not how he looks. 

Worse of all, you were matching with him. Wearing a classy white dress with white heels, and accessories that you sponsored. You visibly cringe at your outfit choice, hating how well it went with his. 

But what bothered you more was your first public appearance with him, as a couple. A few weeks ago, the pictures of you two together on set was leaked out, and the company immediately confirmed that you two were currently dating. The comments online were mostly negative, with some wondering about the woman he ‘impregnated’ and wondering how you ended up with this guy. 

Now, you had to prove to the whole world that you like this guy, that you are in a committed relationship. This is harder than trying to act for dark films. But you had faith that you could wing it, just like how you always wing auditions and films. 

You reach for your purse, opening it and grabbing a pack of cigarettes. You get ready to smoke one, but he takes it out of your hands. “The fuck?” You curse, glaring at him. His sunglasses make it hard to read his expression, but he was chewing gum, with no smile apparent. “Give it back.”

“No; you’ll smell,” he says. 

You roll your eyes. Well, you needed something to calm your nerves down, so you just grab another one. But Drew grabs both the cigarette and the pack out of your hands, and out of your reach. “Hey!” You yell, reaching for it. “Give it back! Seriously.”

“And I’m being serious too,” he replies, before throwing it to the back trunk. 

You gasp at the audacity, anger running through your veins right now. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I needed that!”

He reaches into his pocket, before grabbing a pack of gum out. “Eat this instead. It’s better and doesn’t smell.”

“You think I’m a fucking idiot? I’m not eating that.”

“It’s all I got,” Drew shrugs. “You want or not?”

You glance behind him at the window, and see the thousands of fans outside, all here to watch the Bahrain Grand Prix. Multiple paparazzi are also pulling up. 

Fuck it. You take the pack from his hands, and eat three at a time. The gum is lemon flavored, and minty too. Somehow, it does relax you. You chew on it, focusing on the minty scent of it instead of how much people were outside. 

“Thanks would be nice,” he murmurs, but you heard him. 

“Hey, you threw my shit back there. You owe me,” you say, slapping the bag of gum against his chest. 

Then, the car comes to a stop, and the driver turns around. “We’ve arrived.” You look outside at the entrance of the F1 paddock, a few paparazzi already standing there.  

The bodyguard at the entrance hurries out, and opens the door at Drew’s side. 

He steps out, and stands in front of you. His hand reaches out for you, and you take it reluctantly, knowing that many people are staring. Flashes go off, and you adjust your dress with Drew’s body big enough to cover. 

“Good?” He asks, and you nod. He lets go of your hand after, walking ahead of you. 

Do tall people genuinely walk faster? Plus, why isn’t he holding your hand or walking beside you? The both of you have an image to sell, and thirty seconds in, he’s not selling anything. 

You slightly run to catch up, and when you do, you lock your hands with his. 

He stops and looks back at you, and you just give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hand is warm, big, and also, very stiff. Has he never held hands with anyone before? “Hey, you’re my boyfriend. Did you forget that?” You tug him down to whisper in his ear. 

His red ear doesn’t go unnoticed, and his grip on you tightens. “Right.”

You pat his shoulder away, and walk towards the gate. Paparazzi aren’t allowed in the paddock, so once the staff gives you your passes, you hurry in. But even in the paddock, you attract attention. Cameras turn over to the both of you, and fans glance over. 

You ignore them, just chewing on your gum. You feel very tempted when you pass by the smoking area, but get reminded by your pack of cigarettes disregarded in the back truck. 

Eventually, some photographer comes up to the both of you. You obviously want to keep walking, but Drew stops to listen to what he has to say. “Y/n, a photo for Vogue magazine?”

You open your mouth to say no, but Drew answers instead. “Sure.”

You mentally roll your eyes, smiling for the camera. But the photographer frowns at the man beside you. “Sorry, just Y/n.”

Drew nods, wanting to let go of your hand but you pull him closer. “No; my man stays in the picture,” you confidently say, to which the photographer just nods. You smile for the camera, and the flash goes off. The photographer thanks the both of you, and walks off. 

“What was that for?” Drew asks you as you two continue walking down the paddock. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face as the two of you walk hand in hand. 

But you turn to face him, wanting to see his blue eyes but his sunglasses cover them. “Don’t do that shit ever again. I hate it,” you say instead. 

“Do what?”

“Responding to randoms. I don’t like that, okay?”

“Why not?” 

Can’t he respond properly? What’s with the questions. “None of your fucking business. Just, just don’t answer anyone, or even acknowledge them.”

“Well that’s just rude.”

“And you’re the nicest person alive?” You snicker, once you reach the VIP building, that leads to the observatory and bar upstairs. “Trust me. Your rookie ass has no idea.”

“‘Rookie ass’?” Drew mocks, once you’re in the building. He presses the elevator button, and takes off his sunglasses, hanging them by his button up. “I debuted ten years ago.”

“Not the fucking point,” you say, and see that no reporters or paparazzi were around. You immediately drop his hand and cross your arms, looking away. “And I only did that to sell this stunt.”

The elevator door opens, and you step in quickly, Drew following in. He presses the third floor, the door closing. 

You don’t say a word in the elevator, part of you angry and annoyed. The door opens, and you hurry in. The staff asks for your names, and you give it to her. You ignore the spark in her eyes as she sees the two of you walking together, and leads you to your seats. 

There was a bar area with seats around them, dining tables, and an outdoor balcony area that gave a perfect view of the racetrack and garages. She leads you to the dining area, but Drew buts in. “Could we sit outside?”

You raise an eyebrow at Drew wondering what he's thinking of, and he just ignores your look. “of course,” the staff smiles, taking you to the balcony. 

The two of you sit across each other once you get to your table, and the staff leaves to give you some time to look through the menu. You don’t; instead, you pull your phone out and start scrolling on it. 

Drew, however, looks through the menu and keeps looking around down at the racetrack. Drivers getting ready, and staff rolling the gear out. You’ve been at these races for countless of times, so you’ve gotten used to what goes on here. But Drew? This is definitely his first time here. You chuckle at his widened eyes, as if widening his eyes could get him a better view of downstairs. 

“What?” He turns to you, his expression mean. 

“So obvious that you’ve never been here,” you chuckle.

“And it’s funny?”

“Yes. I’m sober as shit right now, so anything might as well trigger me,” you give him a fake smile, signaling the staff over. She hurries over, and asks for what you would like. “Um, give me five cups of your strongest alcohol drink.”

She nods, and looks over at Drew. “Uh, two lobster and bison ribeyes, and one red wine.”

“Will be right up,” the staff chirps, walking off.

“Two? What, you got a family of four living in there?”

“No; one’s for you,” Drew says. “It would be weird if you didn’t eat and just drank.”

“No one cares,” you say, crossing your arms. 

“I do; can’t have people saying I’m dating an alcoholic.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you argue, feeling offended. Yeah you drink, but only because it calms your nerves down. And who is he to judge? He ordered a drink too.

“Really? So people normally wake up and drink what, four five bottles of whiskey? People show up to places smelling like they lived in a basement all their lives? You’re a fucking alcoholic, Y/n,” Drew confronts you. 

You scoff, brushing your hair off your shoulder. “Hey, you’ve only met me for three times. Those three times you just happen to bump into a drunk me. So, don’t accuse people of what they aren’t.”

“The first time we met and you called me a cunt.”

“Because that’s who you are,” you say. “you’re a cunt, and I’m not an alcoholic.”

Drew pokes his tongue against his cheek; your argument sucks. 

“Why are you denying your drinking problem, Y/n? And it’s not just you, but the whole industry. You sure they don’t know a single thing? The people you worked with?”

You look away. Why was he lecturing you right now? Its annoying and it’s getting on your nerves. The last thing you needed was a stranger telling you how to live your life. And while he goes to say something else, you snap at him. “Hey! I didn’t sign up for therapy here. Shut the fuck up. No one knows, okay? Plus, the whole industry knows I’ve been through worse.”

You don’t elaborate; but you’re ninety percent sure he knows. The hell, everyone in this whole world knows. 

The drinks arrive, five pink drinks that you’re sure is yours, and Drew’s red wine. 

You spit the gum into a tissue, then immediately gulping down the first one. You’ve gotten used to the burning feeling that alcohol has, so it was like drinking water. Drew just watches you with his blue eyes, slowly sipping his drink. 

You look over at the paddock. The race is starting, five red lights showing. “Its starting,” you comment to Drew, and he puts his drink down, walking over and leaning against the railing. You look at him with amusement, how he’s watching the race with anticipation. 

You gulp down your second drink, and relax, letting the alcohol slowly take over you. After a few minutes, you feel a bit tipsy, but you get up, standing next to him. “Who do you think will win?” You ask, the alcohol getting you friendly. 

“Max,” Drew replies, looking at the big screen across. “You?”

“Sainz,” you say, since he is your favorite driver and driving the car of the brand you ambassador for. 

“Do you even watch the sport?” He teases, his eyes on the racetrack.

You cross your arms, looking at his side profile, “Ferrari never disappoints.”

“So does Max.”

“Its a new season; anyone can win.”

“Not if you’re in Ferrari.”

“Then let’s bet on it.”

He stays silent, still staring at the racetrack.

“Didn’t take you as a gambler as well,” he says after a few seconds. 

“Well, are you scared to lose?” You tease, shrugging your shoulders. 

Drew turns and looks at you amused, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours. Gosh, why does he have to have the most gorgeous shade of blue to be his eye color? He shrugs too, smirking. “No; just scared that you’ll turn into a vicious bitch when you lose.”

You roll your eyes, before looking around for something to bet on. But your eyes land on his phone on the table. Then, you thought of an idea. “Loser, has to post a picture on their instagram of the winner. Caption and photo of the winner’s choice.”

Drew’s eyes widen, but he nods, holding his hand out. You take it, and you shake on it. You walk over and drown the third drink down your throat. The alcohol was definitely working, because you feel friendlier next to Drew. See? Alcohol does help one’s mental, and in your case, it makes you an entirely different person. One that’s nice and less moody. Of course, Drew notices it. But he doesn’t comment on it, knowing sober you would bash at him like crazy. 

You spot his phone, and you hand it over to him. “Since you’re going to lose, why don’t you take some pictures of me?”

Drew raises an eyebrow at you in amusement, taking the phone. You just smile at him, leaning against the railing, getting some poses ready. Drew reluctantly walks across from you, and does the craziest pose in order to get a photo of you. It actually causes you to laugh, and you cover it with your mouth. 

And that gets Drew smiling too. Feeling tipsy, you definitely thought you were seeing things. You calm yourself down, continuing to serve face for the photos he’s taking right now. 

Aw. The image of a perfect couple? Completely sold.

——

The internet goes crazy once again.

First was Drew’s visit to your set. Second was the confirmation of the relationship. Third? The hard launch that you posted. 

A picture of Drew, who’s hugging you from the back, his arms wrapped around your neck. His face is pressed besides yours, and he’s making the most lovestruck face to the camera. And so are you. Well, with the help of alcohol, you’re smiling as if Drew’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

With the caption, “Mine.”

Drew smiles proudly while staring at the instagram post, your first post in five years. He glances over at you in the car, only to see that you’ve fallen asleep, your head resting against the window. He reaches over and carefully moves your head to lay on his shoulder, thinking it would be more comfortable. 

You’re deep in sleep that you don’t even care, and Drew just stiffens his posture, to make sure even his smallest movements won’t wake you up. 

While you sleep, Drew just continues to stare at the photos he took of you today, an unexpected smile on his face. Which was just weird, so fucking weird. 

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

word count: 2.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: does the ending look familiar? 😚 hoped you enjoyed the first date with Drew! i saw new photos of him at loewe he looked tooooo good. edited till late last night bc i was so excited for you guys to read this one! (also, i'm a big fan of f1, and wondering if there's any sainz fans here other than me.) anyways, like/share/comment to show support! thanks for reading babes <3

[illiterateaffairs]

behind the scenes chapter one | i enjoyed our meet cute

masterlist | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 4,722

summary: you’ve been in richmond one day and you’re already having chance encounters with famous british football players, what are the odds?

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of my new jamie series, behind the scenes! fake dating is a god tier trope and i’ve always wanted to write something for it. it will also be very rom-com-y, just like ted would like. i really hope you enjoy the first chapter, i’m so excited to kick off this new story and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. also wanted to shout out @buckychristwrites​ who wrote an incredible fake dating jamie series called could this be and you should totally check it out if you haven’t already ♡

Your alarm goes off at 8AM on the dot but you’re already wide awake. You’ve been in London for 48 hours and instead of taking in the sights, you’ve been trying to reset your sleep schedule. After landing at 10AM Friday morning, you pretty much passed right out as soon as you arrived at your rented, two story brownstone. 

See, London was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles - your home base. While you were used to traveling for work, you’d never had a job in another country before. And jet lag was a bitch.

You’re an actor. You have been since you were 15, when you got a recurring role on a kids show after an opening casting call. Some called it luck, but you called it busting your ass in theater classes as soon as your mom could afford them. You’d been a “drama queen” since you were in diapers and you begged her to sign you up for every class, camp and play in your small town and she did everything she could to support your dream. She’s your biggest fan.

By the time you were 20, you’d had a sitcom and several supporting roles in films that made you an underrated fan favorite. Your biggest break came, though, when you were 22 and were given the opportunity to star opposite A-list actors in the superhero film of the summer. After that you blew up, you did a few more action movies and a couple other dramas. 

Now, freshly 25, with a lot of credits filling your IMDb page, there was one genre you still hadn’t tackled: romance. And that’s what brought you to London. You were filming your first romantic comedy in the beautiful town of Richmond. Usually when your job brought you to a new place, the first thing you wanted to do was explore it. However, spending the last couple days in and out of sleep was preventing you from doing so. Today was Sunday, your last day before production kicked off tomorrow, and you’d be damned if you didn’t get the chance to get out and do something before you were swamped with work.

You get ready quickly, eager to not waste another second inside. However, just as you swing your front door open, you come face to face with your assistant, who’s hand is poised to knock. 

“Oh, good, you’re already up,” she chirps, brushing past you and into your temporary home as she taps away on her iPhone. 

“Margot, I thought we agreed on no work this weekend,” you sigh, reluctantly following her into your living room.

“I agreed and you agreed, but Harry on the other hand,” she frowns holding up her phone, “He didn’t agree.”

You groan. Harry was your publicist. You’ve worked with him since getting the role in one of the Spiderman movies. He always had some crazy idea how to boost your public image, most of which you’ve shot down, but his most recent pitch he hasn’t been able to let go of. 

“He’s still bugging you about that shit?” you question, flopping down in an armchair. 

Margot perches on the arm of the sofa, “He’s only bugging me because you keep ignoring him. He still thinks it's a good idea.”

The good idea in question was agreeing to a fake relationship with another celebrity - or anyone really. Usually the goal of a PR relationship was to gain attention for one or both parties, or their upcoming projects. While that wouldn’t hurt, your publicist thought the benefit of having a fake boyfriend was that you’d appear more desirable. 

In your previous roles, you’d been typecast as the funny best friend or snarky sidekick. Not only was this movie you were about to film your first as the leading lady, it was the first where you were playing a romantic lead. You also haven’t been known to be seen with many suitors in your personal life as well. Not that you hadn’t had any significant others since entering the spotlight, but they’d been short lived and you tried to keep those relationships under the radar, not necessarily wanting the public’s opinion on your dating life. 

Of course, that didn’t stop journalists and people with Twitter accounts from speaking on it anyway. Since you got cast in this Rom-Com - Hopeless Romantics was the working title - you’d been subjected to criticism over how you couldn’t possibly be seen as a realistic love interest when you’ve yet to be painted as such both on and off the screen. Though, you’d love to point out that just because you hadn’t played a romantically driven character before didn’t mean you couldn’t now. You’ve learned to just ignore trolls like that. 

That didn’t mean from time to time the odd comment didn’t get under your skin. 

Still, you didn’t see the point in faking a relationship just to get these people off your back. You had the best fans in the world, who’d watch you do anything no matter the genre. And your co-star was Charlie Knox, who’d been pegged as this generation's Hugh Grant, so plenty of people would be buying tickets regardless. You could hardly argue, feeling flushed after your chemistry reed with the actor even though he was doing just that; acting. Harry had even previously suggested faking a relationship with him, which would be the perfect scenario according to him, but Charlie was of course already taken. 

“He’s going to have to give up eventually,” you shake your head, “Because I’m not doing it.” Margot makes a weird face and you tilt your head, “Don’t tell me you think I should do it.”

“No, of course not. You should have the autonomy to make your own decisions about your love life, real or fake,” she insists, “I just wish Harry didn’t make such a big deal about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry he’s bugging you about it. I can talk to him again.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Margot sighs, “You should be enjoying your day off. Were you on your way out before? What were you thinking of doing?”

You shrug, not really having had a game plan, “I was thinking breakfast or something to start, and then seeing where the day takes me.”

She nods, once again tapping on her phone, “That sounds nice. Don’t be out too late, though. A car will be here to get you at 6AM for the read through.” As she stands up and starts walking to your door, she glances at you, “And wear a hat please. Last thing we need is you to be stampeded by fans like in The Lion King.”

“Margot, I love you, but there is no need to bring Mufasa into this,” you tease, “I promise I will be discreet, but only if you promise me you will also take time for yourself today.”

“I promise,” she says with a small smile, but before you know it, she's already back on the phone and out your door. 

You can’t be too hard on her. You were also known to prioritize your work over everything else most days. But she was not only the best assistant you could ask for, she was also one of your closest friends, and she deserved some time off. You’d have to talk to Harry at some point tomorrow to get him off her back. And yours. 

But first, food.

It had been one month - one fucking month - since Keeley had gotten back together with Roy. And it was the worst month of Jamie’s life. 

Yes, he still has feelings for Keeley. Yes, it hurt him to see her choose Roy, even if it had nothing to do with him. And it was twice as bad that Roy and him had finally started becoming actual friends after all these years. But that wasn’t really the problem. 

It was the way everyone has been looking at him since it happened.

It started with the apologetic look on Keeley’s face that greeted him when he answered the door one summer morning. Before she could get a word out, he knew what she was going to say. In fact, he’d seen it coming. Despite Keeley insisting she wasn’t choosing between him and the grumpy old fart who was now his head coach, the two had been spending more and more time together. Keeley was around the club more and Roy was less grumpy. That morning, Keeley told him she wanted him to hear it from her that they were thinking of starting things again. His stomach twisted, disappointed that he’d practically lost her for the second time. But, God, the look of sympathy she was giving him felt even worse.

That was nothing compared to the way Roy looked at him when he walked into the locker room later that day. Roy wasn’t one to talk about or express his feelings, but he still managed to somehow convey his guilt and apology through a single look. Jamie just shook his head, eager to not speak a single word about the topic and move on. For the first time he wished Roy would just yell at him like he usually did. 

Then a week later, Roy and Keeley were publicly a couple again. The rest of the team and staff were elated, but the few who’d known Jamie had been pining for the bubbly blonde again looked on at him sympathetically, patting him on the back and muttering affirmations on the way to training. In the grand scheme of things, they were just being nice, but he fucking hated it.

He was Jamie Fucking Tartt. He could be with anyone he wanted. Sure, the only girl who’s liked him for him and the only one he’s truly loved would rather be with someone else; someone else who was one of his best friends now. So what? The last thing he wanted was everyone around him treating him like a wounded puppy. He was fine.

It didn’t help that he saw Keeley and Roy all the time. At work. At team celebrations. At friendly gatherings. They were everywhere. In fact, they went the extra mile to include him in things to make him feel better, though it had the opposite effect. He felt like a charity case. He didn’t need them babysitting him, like he couldn’t spend a single night alone without collapsing into a full mental breakdown. 

To be fair, the last time he’d had a night to himself, he’d made the mistake of turning on The Notebook for the first time out of morbid curiosity and he wept for an hour. But it was The Notebook for fuck’s sake, what else was he going to do?

Things improved little by little as the weeks had gone by. Sam and Colin stopped giving him glances everytime Keeley visited the locker room to drop something off for Roy. Keeley stopped looking at him with guilt riddled eyes, but there was still a weird energy between them when they hung out. And with Roy things felt mostly normal. 

At least he thought so, but this morning Jamie’s been wandering around his house aimlessly waiting for Roy to show up for their regular early morning training. He’d been ready at promptly 4AM but there was no sign of his coach. He waited thirty minutes before calling but no answer. So, he plopped on the couch and watched some cooking show for another hour or so before trying again. It wasn’t until 8AM - four hours later - he got a call back from Roy.

“Hey, I thought old people were usually up early,” Jamie teased upon answering, “Did you oversleep, grandad?”

Instead of Roy’s gravelly voice responding, he hears another familiar voice in the background, “Is that Jamie? Tell him I’m sorry.”

Keeley.

Jamie’s stomach twists. Of course.

“Uh, yeah,” Roy’s voice eventually says, “Keeley was here and I forgot to set an alarm. We were going to get breakfast but then we can meet at the park if you still want?”

Roy grunts as Keeley speaks up again, voice distant, “Oi, ask if he wants to join us.”

Roy sighs into the phone, “Yeah, unless you want to come to breakfast with us?”

Jamie closes his eyes. Another pity invite. “Um, thanks mate. That’s alright, though. Think I’ll get some running in on my own and maybe we can meet up later tonight.”

“Yeah, that works…” Roy says before tacking on, “Sorry, Jamie.”

Jamie chuckles humorlessly, “Not a problem. Talk to ya later.”

He hangs up and tosses his phone across the couch. Not only did Jamie not like feeling like a third wheel, he didn’t like being one because the other two felt guilty. Especially when he was still getting over his feelings for one of them. He groans, forcing himself off the couch, eager to stay true to his word. He needed to run off these feelings. 

You’d been leisurely walking through the streets of Richmond for a little while, enjoying the early fall breeze and the sights as the leaves started to change color. You’ve been trying to keep an eye out for a place to grab breakfast or a snack, but you’ve been distracted by the shops and the people walking around you. For your part, you were donned in sunglasses with a ball cap tilted low on your head. So far no one has stopped you, which was nice. Not that you minded meeting the occasional fan. Most were sweet and you adored connecting with people face to face, but there was always the risk of someone just in search of an autograph or selfie despite not caring about you or your work, not to mention nosy paparazzi who pop out of nowhere to get a photo. So, you’re enjoying the semblance of normalcy while you can. You sense that once filming starts, those in the area will be eager to catch a glimpse of you and your costars any chance they get. 

You’re a little too comfortable with flying under the radar, when as you’re turning a street corner someone runs right smack into you. You both fall to the ground, your sunglasses flying clear off your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, wondering if someone had done this on purpose, but the stranger next to you also appears to be scrambling. 

“Fuck, sorry,” they mutter, grabbing your discarded sunglasses for you before pulling you both up. As he places the glasses back in your hands, his eyes meet yours for the first time, “Oh shit, are you…”

You smile sheepishly, his eyes alight with recognition. You’re still a little anxious from the encounter, as you try to get your breathing to return to normal. You vaguely wonder if this guy is going to ask for a picture or something, when you actually hear the familiar click of a camera and your blood runs cold. 

“Hey Jamie Tartt!” an accented man calls, “Who’s the girl, Jamie?

The man in front of you looks back at you with wide eyes and grabs your hand, “Shit, come with me.”

You can barely process what he’d said as he pulled you down the street, “What? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private,” he explains as you continue jogging alongside him, “Where there’s one paparazzi, ten will follow. But I’m sure you know that.”

You can’t argue with him. But you do wonder who the hell this guy is that he’s so familiar with paparazzi. You also briefly consider if following a guy you’ve never met through alleyways is a smart decision, but you hardly have the time to dwell on it. 

After a few minutes, this mystery guy, who you can only presume is named Jamie if the paparazzi was right, leads you through an unassuming storefront that ends up being a charming and quaint little café. You look around curiously. It’s not completely vacant, but the patrons don’t bat an eye when the two of you enter. The middle aged barista behind the counter looks at your companion with a warm smile and greets him, once again, by Jamie.

After your heart rate returns to normal, you turn to the man beside you. He gives you a tiny shrug, “I come here when I don’t want to be bothered. Not many people know about this place but it has the best scones in Richmond.”

You squint at him in curiosity, “So, I’m guessing you’re…someone of note then, too? If that paparazzi was taking your picture and you have a secret hideout.”

He chuckles, looking a little bashful, which you have a feeling is out of character for this guy, “Uh, yeah, I’m Jamie Tartt? Premier League footballer for AFC Richmond?”

Your cheeks heat up, “Oh, uh, sorry, I’m not really familiar with…”

He cuts you off, “No need to apologize. Wouldn’t expect an actress from the states to know anything about English football.”

You chuckle, despite yourself, “Well, if it helps I don’t know much about American football either. Or any sport for that matter.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up again, “I know you, though. From that thing.”

You snort, “Well, I’ve done a couple of things.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, no, you’re in that one movie, what’s it called,” he snaps his fingers, “Meet Me in Melrose, that's the one!”

“Wow, that’s a deep cut,” you comment, the film being an indie you worked on years ago; one of your first bigger roles despite the lower budget project.

“Yeah, my old coach? It was one of his favorites, so the whole team became obsessed. We’ve watched a bunch of your stuff,” he explains.

“That’s cool,” you nod with a small smile.

He nods along with you before suddenly becoming very aware of his situation, “Uh, can I order you something? Or, shit, you probably had somewhere to be. I usually try to wait things out for a while here, but if you have to go…”

You once again consider the oddity of casually hanging out in a cafe with a man you just met, but he seems trustworthy enough. And even a bit intriguing.

So you respond, “No, I don’t. I was just out exploring before. I was actually looking for a place to eat so this is perfect. I’m happy to hang out here for a bit.”

“Okay, cool,” Jamie nods again, still feeling a bit unsure of what to do when a Hollywood movie star is suddenly in your midst, “Uh, do you like coffee? Tea?”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to buy anything for me.”

“Well, I was the one who crashed into you and abducted you here so it’s the least I can do.”

You giggle, “Okay fine, I’ll take a hot chocolate. Coffee makes me anxious and tea tastes like a worse version of water. No offense.”

Jamie laughs to himself before walking up to the counter to order for you both. He returns moments later with a hot chocolate for you and coffee for him, as well as two of those scones he mentioned, before leading you over to a small booth in the back of the cafe. 

“So, uh, you must come here often if the staff knows your name,” you say as you blow on your drink for it to cool, “Unless they’re all soccer - sorry - football fans?”

“Actually, Olive, the owner of the café doesn’t know shit about football. It's part of the appeal,” he tells you, “I manage to avoid photographers most of the time, but even if they’re not hounding me, I still like to come here to get away from things.”

“That makes sense. I feel like it's hard to do that in LA. Even the small businesses are overrun with influencers trying to find the trendiest spot nowadays,” you muse.

“Is that where you live? LA?” he asks.

“Mhm. Have you been?” 

“Nah. Been to New York before, but spent most of my time in some clubs,” he tells you, “Have you been to London before?”

“No, actually,” you admit, “I’ve always wanted to come but never got around to it. I’m actually here for a film.”

“Oh, yeah, a Rom-Com, right?” he asks and you nod, “It’s all anyone can talk about around the club these days. We’ve never had a big movie shoot in Richmond before.”

“Hmm, wait til everyone hears how you kidnapped one of the stars,” you joke, finally braving a sip of your drink.

Jamie laughs, “I think I’ll keep that one to myself. Plus, I don’t think they’d even believe me.”

You laugh along with him, thoroughly enjoying his company as well as the delicious cocoa. You also finally try the scone Jamie placed in front of you. Your eyes light up after the first bite.

“Is that blueberry?”

Jamie’s eyes widened, “Sorry, I should have asked…”

You furiously shake your head, “No, no, don’t apologize. I love blueberry.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Me, too. It’s my favorite.”

You smile back, but it drops when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see that you had a missed call from Harry along with a few text messages. Instead of responding, you roll your eyes and put it away, eager to forget that the man exists until tomorrow.

“Uh, everything okay?” Jamie asks tentatively. 

“Oh, yeah,” you reassure, plastering another smile on your face. Then you find a part of yourself that desperately wants to vent about your situation to an unbiased party, “Actually, uh, I’m not sure how much pressure football players are under for their image, but have you ever been asked or been in a fake relationship for PR?”

Jamie leans back, processing the question, “Uh, no. I haven’t really had a problem finding my own girlfriends.”

You snort, “Of course.”

“But I’ve heard of it happening with other footballers,” Jamie adds, “And there was this whole reality dating show I did and none of that was real.”

You gasp, “You were on a dating show?”

Jamie nods reluctantly, “Yeah. It was called Lust Conquers All. It was a low point.”

You can’t help but laugh, “Wow, I’ll have to check it out.”

“Please don’t,” Jamie groans, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering what possessed him to even bring it up.

After your laughter quells, Jamie eyes you curiously, “Why do you ask? About PR relationships, I mean.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands in your lap as you answer, “My publicist wants me to do the whole fake relationship thing.”

Jamie’s eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You shrug, not eager to admit but still wanting to know his take nonetheless, “Apparently, I don’t seem like a romantic person, because I haven’t done a romantic role or publicly dated someone before.”

Jamie continues to look confused, “So? Isn’t that what actors do? Play new roles even if they haven’t done it before?”

“Yes, thank you,” you agree, nodding furiously, “But since I’ve only played cynical or sarcastic characters, that’s how people see me. Apparently, I don’t seem like a good choice for a movie called Hopeless Romantics.”

“But you’re not like your other characters in real life right?” he asks, “You’re not completely cynical about romance.”

You falter, your eyes flitting away from his. Jamie scoffs.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re anti-romance.”

“I’m not,” you sputter, “I just think dating is a little more complicated than the movies make it seem.”

Jamie doesn’t listen, “Wow, I can see why your publicist thinks you need a fake boyfriend for this to be a little more realistic. You can’t be against love and in a movie about love.”

You gasp, lightly shoving him, “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m not against love. It’s just…hard to come by for me.” You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you’re willing to admit, “The last few guys I’ve dated weren't so great. They either only wanted to date me for the exposure or connections or money.”

Jamie’s expression sobers, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “My last relationship, if you could even call it that, was so short lived. It ended because he stole this fancy vase thing from my house.”

“Wow,” Jamie whispers.

“And jokes on him, it was from pottery barn,” you huff, “But yeah, basically its not love I don’t believe in. It’s other people. So I’ve been pretty content to be on my own these days.”

“I get that,” Jamie says softly after a beat, “I’ve dated plenty of girls who only wanted me cause I’m a footballer. Or cause I’m great at sex,” you snort, shaking your head, but he continues, “Not that I really wanted a real relationship, but it still hurts when someone doesn’t want you for you.”

“Exactly,” you nod, picking off pieces of your scone, “I’ve never been with someone who felt genuine. Have you?”

Jamie sighs and you sense there’s a story there, “Once, but I fucked it up. Didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. Classic right?”

You huff lightly.

“The worst part is she was kind enough to stay my friend even after the way I treated her,” he continues, “So not only does she treat me with kindness that I definitely don’t deserve, but I have to sit by and watch her be with someone else.”

You frown, “That must make it hard to move on.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

“And you haven’t been with anyone else since?”

“A couple girls, but nothing serious. And no one recently. Haven’t really seen the point.”

“So I guess I’m not the only one who might be a little cynical then, huh?” you ask with a teasing smile.

He gives you a half smile. “Yeah, I guess I can’t be one to judge.”

You study him for a few more moments. After your introductions, you would have guessed Jamie Tartt was another classic playboy athlete, and after conversing with him that seemed to be his reputation. But now you weren’t so sure. He was…peculiar. 

You continue chatting for a while longer. He tells you more about his football team and you tell him a few spoiler-free details about the movie you’re shooting. Before you know it, you’d been camped out in this cafe with Jamie for a full hour. Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself. You had to imagine the paparazzi had to have left the area by now. And while you weren’t in a hurry to cut your conversation short, your hot chocolate was no longer hot and your scone was long gone. 

“Hey, this place is really nice by the way,” you comment, as you gather your trash, “I might have to come back here. That is, if you don’t mind sharing your secret hide away with me for the next three months?”

Jamie chuckles, following you back to the front of the café. “Feel free.”

You smile at him softly, as you walk out the door, “Maybe, I’ll uh, see you around?”

He shrugs his shoulder, “Yeah, I’ll be around. Maybe you could catch a football match while you’re in town.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” you nod, “Well, thank you again for the rescue. I owe you one.”

“Nah, it was nothing. Get home safe, yeah?”

“You, too. Bye Jamie.”

He bids you farewell, before you two reluctantly turn and head in different directions. You wrinkle your nose, recapping your encounter in your head. What a random coincidence to run into an apparent famed football star on your first day in town. You wonder if you ever will run into him again, but you assume the odds of that are low.

Meanwhile, on his walk home, Jamie is questioning whether or not he should have asked for your number. In a strictly platonic sense, just to keep in touch or to be available in case you needed a friend while you were in town. But he brushes the thought away. Like a famous actress would want to willingly hang out with him if she wasn’t hiding from paparazzi. Yeah right. Odds are this was all a dream and the boys would laugh in his face if he brought it up tomorrow. 

Real or not real, he’d remember your morning together fondly. 

a/n: please let me know any and all those! again, so excited for this story and brand new journey for jamie x reader. also! i will be starting a fresh taglist for this story, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged. the distractions taglist will stay the same for any one shots i may continue to post in that universe. <3

taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog​ @royalestrellas​

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush

Chapter VII ~ mixed signals

Masterlist <all chapters here>

Instagram photo dump masterlist

To be added to the tag list click HERE

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warning: cursing, fluff, crying … idk that all I think

Plot: after meeting Joshua there’s a part of you that feels like he would be a wiser decision of a boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean you can just wash Austin away. FaceTime calls become your thing with him and all the mixed signals have you twisted.

Word count: ~6900

Disclaimer: everything is fake !!!

"Does this look ok?" I ask twirling around in front of my phone for Timmy to see. I'm in the bathroom of the studio cursing myself for not thinking to bring a backup outfit when I left the house, once again in sweats. "Sweet dumpling you're going with him on walk in the park, sweats is the best thing to wear." He says. "Ugh of course you think so, you're a boy." I sigh exasperated, throwing my hands up in the air.

Timothee giggles at my worked up stance, which only makes me more angry. "Ok that's it, I'm hanging up and calling Roxi." Before he gets to defend himself, I end the call and dial Roxanne on FaceTime. The only reason why she wasn't my first option to call, was because she got back very late last night and I wanted to let her sleep as much as possible. It takes a minute for her to pick up, but she does eventually do it. "Ugh what?" I wince a the fact that I woke her up from her sleep, beating myself up for being selfish here. "Need help, do I look ok to go out with Joshua?" I ask.

In a second, she sits up on the bed, trying to fix herself up a bit and concentrate on the matter at hand. Giving me a good look over, I can see the wheels in her head turning. "Yeah, it's a park date and you look extremely hot, just let your hair down." Taking the hair elastic out of my messy bun, I let my hair fall on my back, brushing my hands through it to detangled some of the knots. "Perfect!"

"Of I don't know what I'm doing Roxanne, last night all I could think of was Austin. He called me" clutching my head in my hands I rest my elbows against the bathroom sink. "He called?" She seems just as surprised as was when it happened. "Yeah" I nod. "He did and we cooked together, then he asked me to come over at his house in LA, so he can make me home made pizza, then we said good night, except he said: sweet dreams, my darling. My darling? What the fuck?" I vomit words at a fast speed, my voice raising a bit as I get more frustrated. "Woah (y/n) breathe, you're turning purple."

"I'm being serious Roxanne, what am I to understand from all of this? He has a girlfriend" this whole situation is so twisted and confusing, I've been dreaming all night of him, but here I am now, stressing for a date with another guy, because I have to get Austin out of my system. "I know and I am taking you serious. I don't know what to say, I think he likes you. Plus you said he told you the relationship was just PR, so maybe it doesn't count to him or Kaia." I see Roxanne's point of view, but still it's not that easy.

"Maybe, but the public eye still counts them as a couple and I don't want me and Austin to be dragged any more than we already have." She sighs, bringing the covers up to her nose, as I chew on my lips waiting for her input. "Well why don't you just see where this thing with Joshua goes and then you can talk to Austin-"

"Talk to him? Do you actually think I have the courage to do that?" I yell at her, cause she must be making fun of me. No way am I going to embarrass myself and tell him about my crush. "Ok but won't he know  'dandelions' is about him?" Biting at the inside of my cheek, I play with the ends of my sleeves. I have thought about it, of course I have, but I tried to make the song as vague as possible. "It's too vague for him to figure out."

"Are you sure? I mean..." I shake my head, not wanting to go over that hill just yet. "But you want to know what's the craziest thing?" I ask, picking her interest back up. "What?" Roxanne asks excitedly. "When we were talking at one point he saw the bracelet on my writs and he seemed jealous?!" I'm still not sure that's what he saw or if that was what his reaction meant, but it's the best I could come up with, to explain his behavior. Roxi gasps, covering her mouth with the blankets. "There you have it, he for sure likes you."

"But what if it was all in my head?" She's quick to shake her head. "Noooo first of all, he called you, then made sure you ate, then he invited you over, not to say he called you 'my darling'" she swoons on camera, making me giggle. But the nagging feeling in my stomach stays. "I have to go, I'm going to be late. Love you" I wave "Good luck!" She says throwing the phone somewhere on the bed before I end the call, giving me a good view of the ceiling.

Walking out of the bathroom still laughing, I hug Jack on my way out. Matt is already waiting for me in the car, driving in the direction of Central Park, as soon as I get in. Today is a beautiful day, the temperature is high enough that you don't need a jacket to keep warm, my favorite kind of weather. I put the window down and take big gulps of air, it's very rare that the air smells clean enough for it to be enjoyable, so I'm profiting of it now.

Central Park looks beautiful this time of year, it's still too early into spring for any over the top nature growth, but it's late enough in the winter time, that the grass is a dark fresh green. Joshua is waiting for me right where I told him to, wearing a grey sweater and black shorts, which seems a bit too little clothing for the day, but whatever if he's not cold who am I to tell him what to wear. A smile paints itself on his lips when he sees me and I can't help but reciprocate.

"Hello." He says going in for a hug which I welcome putting my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck enjoying his minty scent. "Hi!" I whisper back and Joshua laughs a bit, making me relax in his embrace. "You look gorgeous!" He says, after letting me go and roaming his eyes over my frame. "Thank you!" I try to play it cool, but I know I'm blushing a deep red shade.

"After you!" He says, motioning for me to walk forward, imitating a valet and rotating his hand dramatically, which causes me to smile. I start walking and he follows me close, only a few inches away from me, our dangling hands barely touching. There's this irresistible current between our hands and when his pinky finger brushes the back of my hand, I pull it away, bringing it to my chest. "Sorry." He says looking forward and licking his lips. With my heart beating out of my chest, I decide to just take a leap of faith and I slowly reach my hand out to tangle my fingers with his. We lock eyes and in that moment this doesn't feel right nor wrong, it just feels numb, a burning question being branded into my brain: how would it feel to hold hands with Austin?

Shaking my head, I blink looking forward, I can't think like that, I'm with Joshua right now and Austin has a girlfriend. I laugh at myself a bit, I keep telling myself the only thing stopping me from fully accepting my crush is Kaia, but I know it's in fact just my own stupid insecurities. "What's your favorite color?" Joshua asks, breaking the silence. "Hm red? Or purple. Yours?" He smiles at me, before answering. "Light blue, just like the sky right now." As if on queue, we look up at the clear sky. The same shade of blue as Austin's eyes, I notice, so I have to force my eyes away. "It's a good choice for a favorite color." I mumble as I drag him over to the grass, before sitting down. Joshua sits next to me, playing with the hem of his sweater. This meet cute feels so different form the previous one, it's like there's this awkwardness between us.

"Did I do something?" I ask out of fear, that I might be the culprit in this. He's quick to deny with a shake of his head. "No, I'm just, well I don't mean to pry, but that article." I suck in a breath, praying to god his next words will be anything but the judgement I expect, because I don't think I can hold it together if he's about to say something mean. "It's nothing, I know how the press works" Joshua says, holding his hands up. "I was just wondering, are you and Austin?" He doesn't dare to actually speak the words, leaving the question hanging. I brush a nervous hand through my hair, picking my next words carefully, licking my lips, before speaking. "We're friends, just friends." Why did that hurt? It's the truth, so why did it hurt? Oh, yeah, because I like him and I want him to be more.

"Oh, ok, cool cool" Joshua says, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. And then there's silence again, awkward silence. I absentmindedly pick at the grass, counting in my head up to 100, to occupy my mind, because if I let it sail free it will go back to Austin. "So I saw that you were in the studio yesterday, how's it working?" He asks. "It's good, it feels amazing to give my words meaning through music. I used to write them just as poems and now I have to make up melodies for them, which only adds to the power of what I'm saying."

"So if you were to choose, lyrics over melody or melody over lyrics?" This catches me a little off guard and it takes a second to come up with an answer. "Lyrics." I say confident in my choice. "Why?" Joshua pushes. "I love words and yeah I guess, as I said, melody adds some power to them, but I'm the kind of person that listens more to the lyrics than the actual melody." He listens to me closely, while his eyes search for mine. When we lock eyes there's this connection between us. It takes my breath away and I fiddle around with the bracelet on my wrist, which causes Joshua to look down. He smiles, moving one hand over to my wrist. He twists the bracelet around so that the purple gem faces him and he brushes his fingers over it. "You like it?"

His eyes lock back onto mine, glimmering with excitement. "I do." Pleased with my answers he brings my wrist up to his lips, kissing it tenderly, while holding eye contact. My cheeks feel hot and I can't help the way my heart skips a beat. "I'm glad" he says.

I clear my throat and take my hand out of his, ignoring the voice in the back of my head saying not to. "Do you want to play a game?" I suggest, even though I have no game in mind that we could play to make time pass. "Sure" he says, leaning back on his hands. "What game?"

"I haven't thought that far in advance" I confess laughing. "Truth or dare?" He suggests and even though that game always felt kind of like a trap, I agree. "Ok ladies first."

"Truth or dare?" I ask and Joshua replies instantly. "Truth" tapping my pointer against my chin, I think of something to ask, if it were me and Austin playing this game I'd have so much to ask, but with Joshua there's not much I'd like to know. Taking a cold shower mentally, I focus back on the task. "Favorite flavor of ice cream" he giggles before answering. "The classic chocolate" of course he'd like chocolate.

"Truth or dare?" What if I wanted to be a little risky? "Dare" ok I might regret that later, but the adrenaline I feel, is a plus for now, so I'll focus on that. "Do a hand stand" I laugh thinking he's joking, but I can see that he's very much not. "Ok but I'll need some help"

"Sure" we both stand up, shaking some of the dust off of our clothes. Sighing I bend over and prompt my palms in the grass, spreading my fingers. "Ok I'll hold your legs. On one" I breathe in "two" he puts a hand on the small of my back and the other before my thighs. "Three" I halt my legs up in the air and he helps me up, holding me by the waist. My top is sliding down, but he's quick to catch it and hold it up so that I'm not exposed. "I can't believe I'm doing this" I say surprised by the fact that actually managed to do it.

Joshua chuckles asking if I'm ready to come back down. "Yeah, I'm ready" I say and he supports me as I put my feet back down. Standing up straight feels weird with all the blood that had rushed to my head, but he catches me before I fall, holding me close to him. Our faces are inches apart, our breaths merging into one. I don't know who moved first, but his lips brush against mine and when I don't pull back he tightens his arms around my waist, deepening the kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let myself be engulfed by the kiss, his warm lips dancing in sink with mine. I feel butterflies in my stomach and dizzy in the head.

"Wow" he says pulling back a bit, holding his forehead glued to mine, both breathing heavy from the previous lack of air. I feel like Joshua is expecting me to say something, but I don't know what I should say. The kiss felt nice, but it felt no more passionate than the ones I had to do on screen for a script, it lacked something. It lacked someone. Or maybe I'm just self sabotaging.

Screwing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath. "I think we should probably stay friends" I say, taking a step back, working on unclasping the bracelet for around my wrist. I see the hurt in Joshua's eyes, but I know that if I don't do this now, we'll get too far down a road that will lead nowhere. "I'm sorry if I moved too fast, I should've-" he says and pain shoots through my chest. "N-no it's n-not I'm n-not. Please just - I'm sorry. I just don't think I feel like that for you." Lie, that's a lie, but I won't admit that now, I'm not yet ready to, tears sting my eyes and the breath gets caught in my chest.

"Please understand, I don't want to hurt you, I think we're better off as friends, I understand if you don't want me to still do the music video with you" closing his eyes, Joshua shakes his head. "No I still want you to do it, if you want to and I guess I appreciate you being honest" he takes my hands, which are still struggling to get the bracelet undone. "But please keep the bracelet, it's a gift." I hate the glossy look in his eyes, knowing I'm responsible for the tears he tries to hold back.

"O- ok, um I should go" I say dropping his hands and walking away. I try to keep my footing normal, but all I want is to get in the car and get home. I find Matt waiting by the car on a park bench and without a word I get in. "Everything ok miss?" He asks concerned, turning to look at me from his drivers seat. My tears start flowing and through the thick curtain of salty water pouring from my eyes I can see he's trying to stay calm, but half failing. "Y-yes I , I'm - he's"

"Did he try something?" Matt says through gritted teeth and I shake my head, wiping away at my tears. "No I just, I think I was mean? I said I just want to be friends"

"And did he push for more?" He asks, giving me a good look over. "No, but I just feel bad for rejecting him." Finally Matt relaxes in his seat, turning back to face the wheel. He turns on the radio and we drive away, no more questions asked.

Getting home, feels nice, my apartment is warm and as soon as I fall on the couch, my two cats come to cuddle with me. The mistake I make is checking my phone, only to see that, me and Joshua were photographed by the paparazzi. They caught us kissing and him helping me do the hand stand. I resist the urge to look at the comments and instead I open FaceTime.

I don't know what goes through my head when my finger rests on top of Austin's name or what ungodly force pushes my finger to actually tap the name and make the call. I panic and I try to hang up, but Austin is way too fast answering, before my better judgment wins. "Hey ther- (y/n)? What's wrong? Were you crying?" Austin asks concerned and I look at my face in the corner of the screen, my eyes are red and puffy and my cheeks are wet with tears. "No" using the back of my hand I wipe at my face, trying to rid of the evidence that I have been bawling my eyes out.

"Please tell me what's wrong" he pleads. "I kissed Joshua and then I told him I want to be just friends" Austin sighs, brushing a hand through his hair. "And did he not take it well?"

"No he was sweet about it, I just feel bad" he smiles at me, which kind of makes me feel better, I don't know why, but it does. "That's sweet of you, but you shouldn't be crying, unless of course you didn't mean to say it." There a twinkle in his eye, almost like he's hoping that's not the case. "No, no I meant it. I just, it didn't feel right, it felt scripted, in a way." I say, trying to explain why I did what I did. "Well there's nothing wrong with the fact that you didn't reciprocate his feelings." Austin says licking his lips.

My eyes get fixated on the pink plush skin of his lips and suddenly I realize I had no business calling him, we are friends I guess, but this is something I should talk about with Timmy and Roxanne, not Austin, we're not that close yet, we barely know each other. "I'm sorry, you're probably busy and I don't even know why I called you." I try to excuse myself, making him laugh. Oh gosh how good his laugh sounds, it's like the sound rings through my bones, turning them to jelly. "No worries, darling, I don't mind"

'Darling', there it is again, that unholy pet name. My tears are long forgotten, but my cheeks keep burning hot, blushing at his every action. "You look so pretty when you blush" Austin mumbles under his breath, almost like he's hoping I can't hear him. But I did hear him, loud and clear, blushing harder and sucking my lips, to stop the whimper resting on my tongue to fall. Austin is now just a frozen picture on my screen, eyes wide open and mouth agape. No one dares to speak, so there's just thick silence filling the air.

"I should go, I have to go over at Taylor's house." I mumble looking away from the screen and picking myself up from the couch. "Sure, yeah, talk soon, (y/n)" I offer him a shy smile, before ending the call. Trying to grip myself back to earth I count my breaths, while I get ready. Putting on a simple dark blue, long sleeve velvet dress and black tights, I braid my hair and apply some perfume. Checking myself out it the mirror, I conclude that I look pretty.

"Come on Matt, I don't want to be late for dinner." I say running out of my bedroom, finding Matt waiting by the elevator already. He smiles at me. "You look very beautiful miss." He says, holding a hand out, making sure the doors to the elevator don't close as I walk in. "Thank you" smiling I lean back against the wall and enjoying the short ride, applying some lip balm before walking out. Slipping into the back seat of the black SUV, I pull my phone out to tell Taylor I'll be there in 20 minutes. The New York dawn is a sight to remember, since it's still cold out, there's steam coming out of the pipeline underneath the city, the steam getting colored by the slowly setting sun. Shades of blue, pink, red and yellow, creating this beautiful painting, of ethereal scenery.

"Text me 20 minutes before you need me to come get you miss, have a good night!" Matt says, as I slide out of the car, saying goodbye to him. I can't wait to see Taylor and talk to her about this whole situation I have on my hands. We speak often, but it's been like a good week since we got the chance to really talk, she was over in London and I was busy, but as of next week I'm supposed to be back in the studio with her as she begins the recording of her new album.

I say 'Hello' to the security and make my way to her door, which she opens expectedly, coming my way with her arms stretched out for a hug. "Ugh I missed you terribly, (y/n)!" Taylor says, welcoming me in. "Hi Joe!" I say and he comes over to share a hug as well. "And hello to you too Benjamin." I lift up the fluffy cat and it starts purring. "Nice to see you, (y/n)" Joe says. Just like Taylor, he is a very nice person and despite the age gap between me and them, we all find each other's company entertaining, so dinner nights like this are an often occurrence, sometimes some more of our friends join, but tonight is just us three.

We make our way into their living room and sit down on the couch. "Do you want wine?" Joe asks going to the kitchen to grab glasses, I know I'm not 21, but in Europe I'm have the appropriate age to drink, so stop judging. "Yes, please." As he disappears into the kitchen, Taylor wiggles her brows at me, before speaking. "So when were you going to tell me you have a boyfriend?" She asks squealing. I blush, trying to hide my face behind Benjamin's furry head. "I don't, he asked me to be in a music video for him and I agreed, then he asked me for lunch and I went, but then we went on that stupid walk and he kissed me and I said I want to be just friends." I vent to her.

"And did you mean it?" I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing the answer, at the time when the kiss happened I was so sure, but the more I think about it the more I doubt it. "Earlier I did, but now?" Sighing I take the glass from Joe, thanking him, before he goes back to the kitchen. He's respectful and knows when some discussions are just for me and Taylor, so he busies himself with taking care of dinner, letting us girls to our own devices. "Ok, but you wrote a song?" I lift a brow at her, not really surprised that Jack told her about 'Dandelions'. She blushes sipping from the glass. "I did, but it's not about Joshua" that's when I get to read a thousand emotions over her face, worry, confusion, curiosity, excitement, all at once. "It's about-" I move my eyes to the side not daring to say his name. I haven't actually admitted Austin is the object of my inspiration for writing 'Dandelions'. Sure Roxi knew about it, but she said it and I just nodded, I didn't actually get to say the words out loud.

"(Y/n)" Taylor says setting her glass down, taking the one I have in hand and doing the same. She then cups both my hands in hers, smoothing the skin over my knuckles. "I saw some of the pictures and you know I hate the media, more then some and I know better then anyone how vicious and untrustworthy it is, but no matter I feel like it's my responsibility as your friend to tell you this. I've been 19 and I've met 30 year olds and they are charming and enticing, but they have no business dating someone ten years younger." I sigh deeply, knowing she is right, but then there's this loud voice in the back of my head saying "he's different", but how could I know, when I just met him. "I know, I just, the song came to me and I couldn't stop writing. Taylor I don't understand myself" before I even know it I'm crying again, my mind is too confused over what's happening. All the mixed signals and all my emotions have been toying with me.

Taylor brings me closer to her, hugging me and letting me cry on her shoulder. "I don't know what to tell you, other then it's so easy to get swept away." She soothes me. "But w-what if-f h-he nice, what i-if he likes me?" She sighs, petting my back as I shake in her arms. "And then there was that stupid article, they called me a serial dater, saying I'm going for another girl's boyfriend, bringing my parents into this." I feel Taylor squeeze me harder, trying to calm me down a bit. I look up from her shoulder as I hear the floor creak and see Joe come in, with a sympathetic smile, handing me a tissue as he sits in a chair across from us. "If I may be allowed to say something" he starts in his thick British accent. "I don't think you should be reading anything the media writes, especially now when you're growing. Developing feelings for people is sacred and it's no one's business. We humans are very susceptible, so reading stuff like that won't clear things. Maybe just let yourself be a lil more free, live in your narrative, not theirs" he's right, reading shit on the internet has often influenced my everyday life and my chronic fear of feelings only got lit up by that article. "(Y/n) do you think you rejected Joshua just because of that piece of crap?" Taylor asks.

I give it a thought, as it seems like something I would do. It did seem a little strange that after all the attraction I felt towards Joshua, I just didn't feel it anymore. "I don't know. Thank you Joe, for the kind words" I say directing a smile his way. "And that doesn't make things with Austin any easier. I like him, I'm sure of it, I can't stop thinking about him. I don't feel like that for Joshua, I mean yeah I guess I find him attractive and such, but I don't have him on my mind all the time like I do..." Taylor's eyes look sad hearing me talk, I guess that for her it feels like looking at a young version of herself doing the same mistakes again. "I can't tell you how to go about it, (y/n). I haven't met Austin, maybe he is a nice guy, just because I've dated douchesbags, doesn't make every 30 year old, one." I can tell that she only half means what she's saying, but I can see she feels for me and understands, probably better than anyone. "Maybe give Joshua another shot? Best romances start with being friends first. You're still young and it's hard to distinguish between lust and love" Taylor says. "Plus dating is about finding what you like, sometimes it take a couple of tries to get it right, so there's no need for pressure of commitment." Joe adds, sharing a knowing look with Taylor. The two of them are so in love, it basically radiates off of them.

Giggling at their love sick affection, I wipe the rest of my tears away. "How about we get some food in our bellies?" Joe suggests clapping his hands and rubbing them together, before standing up. "Ok yeah, I'm kinda hungry." I admit, following them into their dining room, where the table has been beautifully set. The food smells amazing, making my mouth water. "This looks amazing as always." I compliment sitting down, ready to dive into the food. "Thank you, (y/n)!" Joe says, as he starts cutting up the turkey he cooked, placing in on each of our plates. "So any new songs?" I ask, eating some of the food, watching Taylor nod excitedly. "Yes, oh my god, I have a new one, but it's not done, I'll play it for you. I've really been loving this new concept, sleepless nights, you know, words just come to me so easily." She says, making me chuckle.

"Mmh don't I know it, I haven't been sleeping in a week, writing songs at 3 am has become a bad habit." I know for sure the dark circles under my eyes tell exactly that. Before this whole debacle with Austin and Joshua, the Met kept me up and now I'm back into that vicious cycle of sleeping 3 to 4 hours a night. "How many more songs do you need till the album is done?" Joe chimes in, directing the question my way. "I'd like to have like 15 songs? And well right now I have 12? Yeah, around that."

"Any features?" Taylor asks and I answer by shaking my head. "Not yet, but I've been writing this song "Past life" and I feel like a male feature would sound amazing on it, but we'll see" I say shrugging my shoulders.

The rest of dinner flying by quite quickly, filled with funny jokes and music. Before I leave Taylor plays me her latest song which she called "Mastermind". A song talking about how strategic women have to be in relationships, to get it right.

Saying my goodbyes to them, I hug them and head down, where Matt waits for me, to drive me back. I can't get Taylor's song out of my mind, I can definitely claim this will be my favorite off of the new album she's working on. I can't wait to record the background vocals for it. My phone buzzes pulling my out of my train of thought. Looking at it I smile at the name popping up on my screen and answer without a second thought.

"How was dinner?" Austin asks smiling brightly at me. "It was great, Joe cooked some great turkey, it was delicious." I say and make Austin laugh, showing him the doggy bag they gave me for home. "They even gave me extra" I say just in case me showing him the bag wasn't enough, which makes him laugh more. Matt opens my door, helping me out of the car and I mouth a low "thank you", before stepping into the elevator and waving at him. "Are you just now getting home?" Austin asks me. "Yeah" I sigh, sitting down on the elevator floor, my legs tired from all the standing and walking I did today. "Did you just sit on the elevator floor?" Austin questions, smiling from ear to ear and scrunching up his nose, making me mirror him. His happy energy rubbing off on me. "Maybe" I say biting my lip to stop myself from laughing.

Austin rolls around in his bed, rubbing his face into the pillows. "Ugh I had like a thousand interviews today, all the same fucking questions." I giggle at his frustration and get up walking into my apartment, heading straight for the kitchen, after I take off my shoes. "Been there done that, but I tell you it gets better once you get to do talk shows, especially if you do Fallon, Jimmy is the funniest ever." I say, as I put food for Simba and William, the two coming quickly to eat. "Yeah, I guess, it's still a bit too much." He says dragging a hand over his face, then he focuses his eyes back on the screen. "You look very pretty tonight by the way." Austin states making me blush, so I hide my face behind my hands. "Hey none of that, come on show me your beautiful eyes." Austin demands

I remove my hands from my face, blushing terribly as my breath is coming in short gasps. I hear my heart beating in my ears, feeling dizzy. He has to stop saying things like this, talking like this. I swallow thickly as he looks at me, deep blue eyes burning holes through me, making me feel like a small gem being watched through a glass window. His stare is so strong and soft at the same time. Austin licks his lips, biting them, making me wish I could feel how soft they were. "What are we doing?" I whisper, not expecting my thought to come out loud, surprising both me and him.

Austin's eyes are still locked on me, as he sits up on his bed, scratching his chest. His naked chest, he doesn't have a shirt on. "Talking?" He questions faking not knowing what I meant. He's either avoiding it as to not embarrass me or because just like me, he doesn't understand what this is. This delicate beginning rush, we feel when we talk to each other, when we see one another. "Why?" I ask, pushing further, even when every fiber in me, screams to stop, to let it go, to enjoy the rush of the moment. "I like talking to you" he says, blushing.

Blushing?! He's blushing? My heart picks up faster, feeling like it's about to fly out of my chest. I try to breathe deep and I clench my fists around the velvet fabric of my dress, making an effort to stop my body from trembling. "It's late, you should get to sleep, night my darling!" Austin says and I'm left with my mouth agape, not getting a chance to answer before he ends the call.

"My darling" he called me that again. I can understand one time being a little mistake, but a second time? He's toying with me, he must be. And I wish I could say that all the things people around me have been saying didn't get to me, but they did. Everything I've been hearing ever since meeting Austin, is to be cautious and smart, to not let myself fall, but I'm afraid I already fell. And now I feel this fear building inside me, fear of getting hurt. I'm not stupid, I understand how he's too old and I'm too young, but the fact that so far this and his fake girlfriend, have been the only reasons keeping me from crushing on him, tells how little I know him.

Stepping into the bathroom, undressing, I turn on the shower, looking at myself in the mirror. You can read, the amount of sleep I've been losing, on my face. Closing my eyes I see flashes of him, his smile and his eyes, I even hear his laugh ringing in my ears. I'm going crazy.

Breathing in, I let the boiling water soak me from head to toe, wishing for it to relax my petrified muscles, but to no avail, I'm too tense. Giving up on trying to relax, I get out, drying myself quickly and putting on pajamas, going straight to the piano. I'm tired but I don't feel sleep crawling up on me, so the best thing to do is sit down at the piano and play until hopefully I can sleep.

Thinking back to Taylor's song, I play it over and over again, until it's 3:15 am and I'm still at the piano, pushing the keys with my now, numb fingers. Picking up my phone I open the camera and rest it on the piano, to film myself. I look like a mess, with hooded eyes and tangled damp hair. "Hi Taylor, um I've been thinking, since I left, I loved the song and the concept of it, you know. Um and I just was thinking, there's a starting point to everything, so why is this girl in our narrative so strategic? Something happened right? In the past." I put some of my hair behind my ears, playing the piano softly. "So I asked myself, what started my overthinking and over analyzing? So I kinda wrote a verse?" I wince a bit at myself, this is the second time I highjack one of her songs. "So here it goes, I'm sorry in advance"

I keep playing and then start singing.

"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

To make them love me and make it seem effortless

This is the first time I've felt the need to confess

And I swear

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian

'Cause I care

So I told you none of it was accidental

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then

Saw a wide smirk on your face

You knew the entire time

You knew that I'm a mastermind

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

'Cause I'm a mastermind"

I finish playing and take the phone in hand, bringing the camera close to my face, giving the worst possible angle of myself. "Ok that's it, anyway, tell me what you think, sorry for bothering you and for pushing myself on this, you don't have to like it or add it or anything. Um anyway it's like 3:30 am so I should sleep, talk soon" I end the video and send it to her, knowing she's see it in the morning.

After that I run up to my room and jump on my fluffy bed, praying to get some sleep, before my 8 am alarm starts ringing. As my body sinks into the soft bed, my thoughts go blank for the first time in so long and I find sleep takes over me, dreamless resting sleep. Rare, but so sweet.

When my phone rings at 8 am I'm too tired to wake up just yet, so I shoot a quick text to Levis telling him that I'm sleeping in today. I put my phone on silent and get back to sleep, but it's not the same dreamless sleep as before.

I'm in my living room and it's dark, soft music playing in the background, music I quickly recognize as being my song - Dandelions. Everything is a bit blurry and in slow motion. Then out of the dark a figure makes it's way over to me. The musky, citrusy smell lighting my senses on fire as Austin circles his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. "You wished on a dandelion for me, well here I am darling. My darling." His lips brush my cheek, his hot breath fanning over my skin, raising goosebumps everywhere. I tremble in his embrace and try to move my head to get a good look at him, but my eyes can't focus, it's weird and I feel the anxiety creeping up on me as I try to see him, but everything is hazy. "Austin" I say, but it's like my voice is coming from under water, muffled and weak. "My darling" it's all he says, tightening his arms around my waist, making my knees go weak as I melt into him. "My Austin" I say giving in. "My darling" he repeats, like it's the only thing he knows.

Suddenly I'm woken up by something jumping up on my chest. Sitting up quickly, I cause William to fall rolling on the bed. I grab the kitty and bring him close to my chest, whispering little apologies. I try to come back to the real world, but I can still feel Austin's breath on my skin. I need to find a way to shake him off, this is getting out of hand. Taking my phone from the night stand, I ignore all notifications and open the message app, texting Joshua.

Me:

Want 2 come over 4 dinner? @ my place?

🎶Joshua🎶:

Yeah, text me the address. What time should I be there?

Me:

6 pm, sound good?

🎶Joshua🎶:

C u at 6pm

Me:

Can't wait 💟

Tags: @kittenlittle24 @amorx @cryingabtab @lexicox044 @lrissa @feral4austinbutler @sageskywalker @jesssssicaa @rainydayz101 @flwersgarden @bobthefishiesworld @captured-memory @homebodybirkin2003 @galaxygirl453 @butlerslut @chrisevansgirl34 @myradiaz @pennyroyalcreep @macey234 @im-lame-irl @lordandmistress @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @poppet05 @gabbywontlose @4shbug @0-thegoodwitch-0 @hauntedarchivesx @chewiethecatus @sunnyx07 @francesbloomer @jessaroni19 @finelineskies @stargirlbytheweeknd @cerenaydins-blog @girlblogger2002 @gigisworldsstuff @my-baexht-Is @xmusselisims @denised916 @bluepeacheslandia @kibumslatina

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[sunlightwoo]

never be

☀︎ pairing: model!yunho x actress!fem. reader

☀︎ genre: fashion au, fake dating au, angst if you squint but there’s a happy ending :)

☀︎ wc: 1358

☀︎ plot: the thought of being in a fake relationship was not as mindful as you intentionally thought it was going to be, considering the person you signed a contract to fake date was one of your childhood best friends. however, the words of what you both once agreed suddenly made you bite back every empty promise that you’ve made and agreed to, because you broke them.

☀︎ a/n: thank you again to @yutasgalaxy​ for hosting this amazing collab that i was able to be a part of!! i had lots of fun writing this and using the dialogues for ficscafe’s event again, and i hope you guys liked the 10th track for the storms of broken hearts collection!!

☀︎ #47: “I was trying to help you.” “I never asked for your help.”

STORMS OF BROKEN HEARTS | ATEEZ MASTERLIST

“So how is your relationship these days, Y/N?”

You give your biggest smile to the interviewer in front of you, the same question that you have been asked ever since your so called ‘scandalous’ announcement had been released just months ago. From the day that both you and your manager had signed a contract for both you and rising model, Yunho, to a fake relationship so that the two of you could gain publicity in the eyes of the public for your acting and modeling careers.

However, it was all the repetitive response that you had given to everyone that made you feel so fabricated at the same time.

You were fine. You were in love. He was your soulmate that fate had gifted you, since the two of you first reconnected after years of being apart. The same story that you had told them, in which you recited how you and Yunho first met when you were in grade school, inseparable best friends until you had left to go pursue your acting career by the time that you had gotten your first major gig in high school, and he followed his own modeling gigs at the same time as you had drifted apart. 

To be quite honest, the two of you had never decided to reconnect with one another because of how busy your schedules had been, and the thought of ever knowing Yunho as a child had almost completely left your mind until you had gotten the call. You were shocked to say the least, when you had been in the same room as him and his manager, because you didn’t expect him to get more beautiful than the last that you saw him. 

“I fall in love with him everyday, I don’t think it’s even possible to not be in love with a man like him.”

“I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend anymore. Let’s stop this now.”

You stood in front of the taller figure with your arms in front of your chest and suitcase already packed behind you, feeling fumes escaping your ears as you glared at him.The day had been fine as you were used to going with Yunho onto the photoshoots that he could’ve been scheduled for when you were free, however this time was different. 

The afternoon had started off with the two of you eating your lunch in the car as normal, conversing about whatever was on your mind while driving to the set and you remembered briefly how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest. You thought that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, that there was no way you could be falling for your best friend that was sitting with you while you were supposed to be playing the perfect couple for the general public.

“You can’t just call yourself a shit actress and not credit yourself for all of your amazing roles.”

Your heart was definitely on the verge of bursting out of your chest as you thought to yourself that this wasn’t the plan. The perfect fake girlfriend that you had submersed yourself into the role of playing, suddenly becoming too real as he had always held you the way that you didn’t expect to have such an overall impact on you. 

The two of you ended up being on the photoshoot set a little earlier than anticipated as you held Yunho into the clothes that he was supposed to wear, making sure that his makeup was intact and outfit was the right ones for the scene. His stylists had thought you were insane for doing their jobs, but as soon as you mentioned that you wanted to do it as a cute couple’s thing with your fake smile that you were so used to using, they had let you do it anyways. 

The downfall was that the photoshoot was of him and another model, and something about that had bubbled a nasty feeling inside you, leaving your actions to just sit there in pity before you had stayed silent the entire day.

Leading up to where you were, Yunho was confused as to why you hadn’t talked to him for the rest of the entire afternoon after the shoot. You were perfectly fine with him earlier, and he could’ve sworn that the two of you were enjoying yourselves the entire day. So what changed?

“Why do you want to stop the relationship? Did I do something?” He asks you confused, crossing his arms in front of him to mirror yours and you let out a scoff before shaking your head at his question. 

“Unbelievable… I’m not doing this right here-”

“Then tell me! You’ve ignored me all day and never gave me a reason why.” He retorts, holding onto your hands into his own when you push them away, too scared to find out what would happen if he were to just hold you closer again.

“This relationship was a bad idea to start with, because the two of us are well off without the other anyways. Why did you reach out in the first place?” A whisper escapes your lips, tears already pricking the corners of your eyes just as you start to reach out for your stuff behind you.

“I was trying to help you, help the both of us, but all you’ve ever done was just push me away and ignore my texts, so what was I supposed to do?” He scoffs in response and you look at him with a shocked look on your face before gripping onto your suitcase with a firm hold while shaking your head.

“Well guess what Yunho, I never asked for your help. So help me, just let me go before one of us hurts the other.” 

The moment that you already chose to walk away was when he chooses to gently, but also firmly grip your wrist and pull you close to his chest, your thoughts all over the place as he holds you in the middle of your shared apartment. Before you could even protest, you look up at him with a confused but also frustrated look on your face and his lips are crashing onto yours the second that a sound has barely even left your mouth.

It had felt familiar, but also left fireworks in your stomach as he kissed you so feverishly and also like you were fragile all at the same time. You think that maybe he could be fooling you because of the poker face that he had on his face, one that you were familiar with witnessing when he was occupied by various photoshoots for different brands and meetings, but the moment that you pull away from him, his face transforms from that poker face to one that was filled with regret and heartache.

You weren’t sure what to do, because you had loved him too much to even leave. 

“Please stay… I love you too much to let you go, when I already broke our promise of catching feelings. But how could I, when you’re my first love?”

The words leaving his lips, the same ones that were hovering over yours slightly, made your eyes widen in response as you had never heard such a confession come out of him before. Jeong Yunho, a guy that you had known to be confident and passionate in everything that he had done, modeling, eating, you name it, having his walls crumble down for someone that he had considered his first love in this life. 

For you.

“What do we do now?” You whispered, looking into his eyes for the first time since the kiss as you could feel him raise his hand to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks and he gives you a small smile as he holds you close once again, the sound of his heartbeat against your ears somehow giving you comfort as you hear him hum in response.

“We start over, but we date for real this time. A famous model and an actress dating shouldn’t be a shock to the world, since they already know, right?”

[m-y-fandoms]

Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

   You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

 Dissociate. 

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit. 

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing... 

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

  Why not, why not?

 You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that" 

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

  What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

   _______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

      ___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

    Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

  Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

  Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs. 

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

   A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of  the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

 Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

  Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

  ...No

   You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

 It was him...

 Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

  "I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

  No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak. 

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

     He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

   ...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

  Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

[kpop---scenarios]

Affair To Remember (1)

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader / Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Idol! AU

Warning: Just Smut (for now)

Word Count: 2k

"...You may now kiss the bride." The priest smiles. Jackson pulls you into him before dipping you slightly to plant a kiss on your tender, plump lips. A blush spreads across your cheeks as the guests cheer for your love. 

A love you wish you truly had. Not a love that was forced for the cameras.

You and Jackson had initially begun dating for the buzz, so you could get people to talk about you and him, to make sure they were talking about your newest upcoming TV series and his music, and the group he was in, expanding both of your fan bases if you will. 

And that's exactly what it did, but it also went further than that. People fell in love with your love. The way Jackson looked at you was what women and girls yearned for, the way he treated you in public was what they gossiped to their friends about. The way he protected you, always watching to make sure you were safe had all the girls falling all over him, fantasizing about him. 

While you didn't need to do much, you had a solid male fan base but since being with Jackson your female base increased quite a bit, which is what you needed. You needed to be a role model, a positive woman that young girls could look up too. At least that's what your manager and publicist wanted, but not you. You wanted real love. 

You wanted to live your life your way, being happy but then another part of you gets a twisted pleasure from pleasing other people, making everyone around you happy even if you're not. Which is why you sat in the kitchen of your shared home with Jackson, drinking your fifth glass of wine. 

Quite often you avoided going to bed with Jackson. Mainly you just felt overly guilty for staying with him because you weren't in this relationship completely, so you stayed up, avoiding the guilt while you laid beside him, but also, you preferred going to bed in slience, where he enjoyed talking and cuddling, especially after sex, whenever he was in the mood.

It had now been two years of this marriage and you had hoped by now you would be madly in love with him, regretting ever thinking this wouldn't work. But you sat there knowing this would be the greatest regret of your life and you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't leave him, you'd end up being the most hated woman, the woman who destroyed the perfect marriage, with the perfect man. 

At least from what they saw he was perfect, from what you saw he was far from it. He often took his frustrations out on you, yelling at you until the veins in his neck popped out, and his face became red, pieces of spit flying from his mouth while you sat there with your head down wondering why you put up with this. He never put his hands on you, just yelled, not that it made it much better. You knew he was stressed out, but that's no excuse. 

And then you get that woman, the one who approaches you while you're walking down the street and she tells you how inspirational your relationship is and how she can't wait to find a man just like that. A love just like yours. And you remember, you give hope to these women that a relationship like that is possible but at what cost? You're lying to her, not fully but enough. You're lying to everyone. Marriage, It's not perfect but really what marriage is? 

You were confused. Should you continue to live unhappily for the happiness of thousands, or make thousands sad for your own happiness. There's no way you can win.

“Are you coming to bed?” Jackon asks, peeking around the corner into the kitchen, 

“Yeah” You smile, finishing the rest of your wine before leaving your glass empty on the table, following Jackson to the bedroom. 

“You're so distant lately.” He yawns, crawling into bed with you before pulling you close. 

"A lot on my mind." You whisper, snuggling into him. You cared for Jackson, you did but you didn't love him like you were supposed too and you couldn't force that. However, when it came time to fuck, you were always ready for that, hoping this time would be better than the last, craving that good orgasm. You found Jackson extremely attractive, his face, and his body. He was exactly your type for a fuck buddy, so thats what you referred to him as, in your own mind of course. There was only one problem with the sex you had with Jackson.

He was selfish. 

"I can help with that." He groans, tilting your head up towards his, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

Jackson is quick, usually not wanting to waste time. He continues to deepen the kiss, pulling your body on top of his. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt, telling you to take it off. You break the kiss, sitting up on top of him to tug off your shirt. Your breasts perk up as the cold air hits them, hardening your nipples. Jackson cups your breast leaning forward to bring it to his mouth, wrapping it around your nipple, sucking hard. You throw your head back, grinding yourself on his hardening cock. 

“Please” you cry, rubbing your pussy over him. 

Jackson sits up, turning you over so he's now hovering over you. He hooks his fingers unto your panties, dragging them down your legs, tossing them somewhere in your shared bedroom before taking off his own boxers. 

He maintains eye contact as he lines himself up with your wet, throbbing pussy, sliding his cock inside, stretching you out. He picks up his pace awfully quickly, thrusting in and out of you, needing to find his own release, not worrying about yours. 

You place your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit, desperately seeking your own high before him but that's never the case. 

"It's a quick one." He grunts, pulling himself out of you, pumping his cock until he cums all over your stomach, sighing in relief while you lay there disappointed, again while he grabs his cum towel to clean you off. 

Jackson gives you a small peck, and a half smile before he rolls over, satisfied enough to go to bed while you lay there still horny. 

** 

 Over the next few weeks Jackson's schedule became increasingly more busy, having more things packed into his day now that a comeback was around the corner, which left you at home, alone far too often. 

The production for your newest show had been put on hold due to your costar becoming sick with something that was putting him out of work for longer than a month, leaving you projectless and acting like a bored housewife. 

Sure, you had friends but most of them were already busy living their own happy lives, either working or being actually happy in their marriages. You haven't told anyone your thoughts before because no one would understand. Everyone would judge you but until they lived in your shoes, they had no idea what it was like to live your life. 

**

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jackson asks one of the rare nights that he was actually home. "You seem upset." He says. 

You were honestly surprised he even noticed. 

"I guess I'm just bored." You say, shrugging your shoulders. "With 'Affair To Remember' on hold, I don't have anything to do." You sigh. 

"Well this might put you in a happy mood." Jackson smiles, sliding two tickets across the table. 

"Whats this?" you ask, picking it up..

"The annual kpop party." Jackson laughs. Last year you had been unable to go and now you finally had time. "Would you be my date?" He asks. 

"Of course!" You smile, getting up to give him a big hug. 

You couldn't wait. 

This party was the party of the year. All the major kpop groups went and mingled, drank and just all around had an amazing time. Now you finally got to go. 

** 

It was 7pm, the night of the party and you were finishing up a few last minute touches to your look before you and Jackson left. You put on your earring and your necklace before checking yourself out in the mirror. 

You looked amazing. You had on a tight, form fitting black dress with a long slit up your thigh, paired with a bright pair of red pumps, with a smokey eye and red lips. 

You slowly and gracefully made your way down the stairs, being greeted by Jackson who had a large smile on his face. 

"You look beautiful." He smiles, holding out an arm for you. 

You take it, heading out the front door where paparazzi and your car are waiting for you. 

** 

Arriving at the party, Jackson abandons you almost immediately after arriving, telling you he had to go say hello to a few people. You managed to find the bar, ordering yourself a wine, filled to the top while you scanned the room. Most of the attendees you only knew of, there were a few you were friends with. 

Your eyes happened to land on one man in particular.  Byun Baekhyun. The man you'd let do anything to you if you could. The man you dream about when Jackson fucks you. You just know he would fuck you right. 

The rest of Got7 came to you to keep you company for a bit, Bambam hyping you up as usual. 

An hour later, Jinyoung scanned the room only to look at you with a sad face, mouthing an apology. You look over to where he was and you see Jackson with his hand around a girl's waist, leaning in close to her. You acted like it fazed you a bit; but it really didn't. You knew je loved you too much to actually do anything. You continued staring, looking hurt until Jackson noticed you and then it was time for a bit of a show. 

You wipe away a pretend tear, keeping up appearances of a hurt wife, you storm up the stairs, running towards the bathrooms while Jackson chases you, grabbing onto your wrist. 

"We were talking." He growls into your ear. 

"Looked like more than that." You snap, yanking your wrist away. 

"Ayn! Don't make a scene." He snaps. 

"Too late." You cry, running away from him. You were a great actress. Even Jackson believed you were mad.  But in reality, you were playing a part. 

** 

"Quite the show." You hear from behind you as you leave the bathroom. 

"Ah yes, well you know. Marriage." You say, turning around to see Byun Baekhyun of EXO. 

"You mean a fake marriage?" He asks. 

"What?" You ask, shocked. No one had ever figured it out before. 

"The way you were eyeing me up earlier. You looked like you wanted to jump me right there. I can't imagine a real happy marriage would be like that." He says. 

"You saw that?" You ask, horrified. 

Baekhyun walks closer to you. 

"I did. And I liked it." He whispered into your ear, pressing his body against your before walking away. 

Your stomach dropped as your panties soaked, the image of Baekhyun saying that to you running through your head. 

With a smile you walk back downstairs, an apologetic Jackson waiting for you. He asks you to dance, pulling you in closely. You should be into it, you should close your eyes at the feeling of his embrace but instead your eyes are locked with Baekhyun's who bites his lip before looking down. Your eyes follow, stopping at the bulge in his pants as he looks at you again, winking. You should stay away from him, you knew that but suddenly a spark was put back in your life and it wasn't from your husband. 

[holylulusworld]

You know me well – Part 4

Summary: Winning a contest to earn a small role in the next Supernatural Episode is a dream coming true. The only problem is the man you admire for his talent thinks you are not good enough. When he finally admits something he turns your world upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, Jared Padalecki x Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins

Warnings: angst, sad reader, Jensen being a douche, unrequited love (kinda), comforting (Genevieve), heartbreak

You know me well Masterlist

Only a few more weeks and you can go public. Only a few more days to keep on going and pretend you are not in love with Jensen.

Since Jared caught both of you Jensen is more subtle on set, always aware someone else than Misha or Jared could see him touching you.

“The party is this weekend. Are you excited?” Jared asks as you play with your barely touched food.

“I don’t know, Jared. I’m not used to this kind of stuff and attending it alone doesn’t make things easier.” Giving your friend a cracked smile, you keep on pretending it doesn’t hurt Jensen suggested you shall go alone to the party.

“Jensen will not go with you?” Misha is taking aback. He had hoped Jensen would reveal you are a pair during the party. The season is wrapped, hiatus is close, only re-shooting needs to be done but that’s it. “I mean the season is over, we could just announce it at the party.”

“Misha, don’t.” Jared is patting your back, seeing the hurting on your face. “I guess Jensen wants to wait for the first Con as we agreed to. You can come with me and Gen if you want to. This way you don’t have to go alone and keep your word.”

“Thank you, Jared. I’d like that even if I would prefer going with Jensen.” Grumbling you watch Jensen talk to a foreign woman. He’s joking, placing his hand onto her back and your heart drops.

You have seen him with that woman before, in a magazine. He was dating her before you and broke up with her not long after they announce their relationship.

“Why is Michelle here?” Misha cocks a brow, glancing at Jensen talking to his ex-girlfriend in front of you, in front of his friends.

“I’ve got no fucking clue.” Jared exhales as he gets up to talk to Jensen. The moment Jensen sees his friend he removes his hand from Michelle’s back, greeting Jared as if nothing happened.

“A word, Jay?”

“Sure. Later, Michelle.” Jensen smirks following his friend toward his trailer. “What’s wrong, Jared?”

“What’s wrong?” Pointing at you sitting next to Misha Jared shakes his head. “Your secret girlfriend sits right there, telling me you refused to go to the party with her and then we have to watch you getting all cozy with your ex!”

“Dude, relax. Michelle is doing me a favor, okay. The rumors got worse and I thought if I walk around with her a bit everyone believes we are back together, and Y/N and I can take a deep breath. Soon I can announce my relationship with Y/N.” Jensen doesn’t see your hurting or the way you play with the seam of your shirt. He doesn’t see the doubts all over your face.

“You better stop this shit, okay. Be a man and call things off with Michelle, tell her thank you and we can survive these few weeks till you and Y/N reveal your relationship.” Jared storms off to bring you away as Jensen walks back toward Michelle.

----

The night of the party started surprisingly funny. Sitting in the hotel room with Genevieve you watch Jared bickering with Misha about the right way to wield an angel blade.

“Boys, we have to go. Where is Jensen?” Genevieve watches your face fall as you shake your head.

“I don’t know, Gen. Last night he said he’d be here at eight or so but it’s already nine and he doesn’t answer my calls.” Sniffling you try not to ruin your make-up.

“What the heck! We agreed to go together so if’s not obvious you and Jensen are a pair. As Misha is without Vickie tonight he’s with us too. Where is Jay?” Jared paces around the room, trying to reach his friend. “Doesn’t answer my call either.”

“We have to get going, Babe. Maybe he’s late or something.” Squeezing her husband's hand Genevieve tries to calm Jared. “He can meet up with us before we go in. Let’s roll and wait for him outside.”

“Still don’t know why he doesn’t answer our calls. Is this about the fan post last week?” Looking up at Jared you can see the tall man’s face fall. Remembering a fan wrote she assumes you and Jensen are a pair he rubs your back, shaking his head.

“No, Y/N. Listen, Jensen loves you and we are for sure meeting up with him before we have to walk over the red carpet, okay. Stay with us and everything will be fine.” Not believing his own words Jared nods as his wife.

“Don’t worry.” Slinging her arm around your shoulders Gen tries to calm your nerves. “Jay will be there, and you can dance all night. No one will disturb your fun at our party.”

----

In the limousine, you tried to call Jensen again, but he refused to answer. Jared is getting antsier per minute. The pit in his stomach grows and he looks at Misha for help.

“How about I lead Y/N to the carpet until Jensen arrives. We can take a few pictures and wait for the rest of the cast.” Misha tries to break the awkward silence, patting your thigh. “We are going to rock the red carpet, Y/N.”

A fake smile on your lips you nod at Misha, knowing he means well, but the look on Jared’s face tells you he believes something is wrong with Jensen and your heart beats faster than it should.

“We are here, ladies and gentlemen,” Clif exclaims as Jared almost jumps out of the limousine to hold out his hand for Genevieve. Misha is close behind, helping you get out and that’s the moment you hear someone yelling Jensen’s name.

Your eyes search the photographer and then your eyes land on the red carpet and your heart shatters into pieces.

Instead of attending the red carpet with you and his friends Jensen poses on the carpet with his ex-girlfriend. Smiling he holds her hand as he nods at the reporter who asked if he’s with Michelle again.

Pale, panting heavily you feel Misha moving his arm around your waist. “We are going to rock this carpet and later Jared and I will kill Jensen,” Misha whispers leading you toward the carpet as you feel like your legs are jelly.

“How can he do this, Jared? I don’t get what he wants to achieve with it. We agreed to attend the party together and now Jensen messes with our plans and poses with that bitch.” Genevieve is balling her hands into fists as you shake your head, giving her a cracked smile.

“Gen just drop it. I guess that’s Jensen’s way to call things off with me. Maybe she’s the better choice. Look at me and then look at her, Genevieve.” Glancing down your simple robe you hold back a sob. “Jensen is way out of my league. I should be relieved, this way the lies finally end.”

Misha leads you toward the red carpet, angrily clenching his jaw while Jared glares at Jensen who dares to glance at you in Misha’s arm.

“I swear at the end of the party I’ll kick his ass. I can’t believe he pulls a stunt like that. I warned him, Gen. Told him to not hurt the kid. Look at her.” Pointing at you trying to fake a smile as Misha attends the red carpet with you Jared silently curses.

----

“Y/N, you came here with Misha tonight, not with a boyfriend. Why?” The reporter asks and you clear your throat.

“Misha was alone, just like me. Vickie couldn’t make it and he was kind enough to offer his free arm to me as an old spinster as I didn’t find someone to attend the party with me.” It’s not a complete lie so you smile politely and answer more questions.

“We all cheered for you and Jensen. All of us bet you would make a cute couple. The chemistry on screen is so strong between the two of you.” Another reporter tries and you laugh, giving him a wink.

“It’s called acting, Sir. Mr. Ackles is obviously in a relationship with the lovely woman he brought to this party. I don’t think he could ever think about me as a love interest. I’m only a colleague.” Misha is keeping you upright, smiling into the cameras as Jared and Gen join you.

“Jared, Jared! Don’t you think Y/N and Jensen are a cute couple too?” The same reporter asks.

“Well, Y/N is a wonderful actress and a good friend, on top of all a great person. I think she deserves someone showing his love for her and making her feel special. I bet she will find someone giving her all of this in no time.” Jared smirks as he can see Jensen turned pale at his best friends’ words.

“One last question to Y/N. Please.”

“Go ahead.”

“What does your ideal man look alike.” The reporter asks and you smile, taking your time to answer.

“It’s not always about the looks. I prefer a man showing me his affection, holding my hand and making sure I’m alright. So far I didn’t find a man doing so…” Clearing your throat you point at Jared and Genevieve.

“I want what Gen and Jared already have. A loving relationship, someone who cares about you and is not afraid to show it even if it means getting a shitstorm.” Now you smile sweetly, let the photographers take some more pictures before you let Misha lead you inside.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thank you, Misha. Without you, I wouldn’t make it tonight. I needed all my strength not to cry. When this is over I’ll pack my things and leave his house…”

----

Jensen is keeping his distance, always aware people are watching him so he dances with Michelle, ignoring you the whole evening.

“He could at least have asked you to dance with him. What the fuck is he thinking?” Jared curses, watching Jensen glance at you once again.

“You know he wants someone he can present. That woman is perfect. I’m only his dirty secret or she’s better in bed as he didn’t get any so far. I’ll call a cab and leave the party. I spend enough time waiting for him to explain his behavior.”

Walking away you want to use the restrooms but Jensen follows you to take the chance and kiss you, but you push him away.

“Get off me, Ackles. Go back to the woman you brought here, I’m no longer your latest fling.” Jensen is gasping at your words while you turn to walk away.

“Wait, I did it for us!”

“For us?” Furious you slap his cheek, not caring if anyone sees you.

“There is no us, Jensen. There are you and that perfect arm candy and then there’s me walking over the carpet with Misha as he had to keep me upright. I don’t know what sick game you tried to play with me but it’s over…” Turning on your heels you storm toward the restrooms as Jensen runs after you dragging you into the room.

“I tried to kill the rumors, Baby. I did it for you.” Trying to touch your cheek Jensen has to watch you flinch away.

“Rumors? Seriously. All the reporters were rooting for us. No one would’ve cared if you had kept your word and attend the party with Jared, Gen and me. Misha was there too. No one would’ve known we are a thing, but you came here with that woman. A woman you had sex with, Jensen and I shall believe you did this for us! I might be younger than you but I’m not dumb, go fuck yourself…or rather fuck her cause for sure you will never touch me.” Panting you slap Jensen’s hand away as he tries to reach out for you.

“Please, Baby Girl…”

“Stop calling me like that…we are done…”

The realization hits Jensen like a freight train as you leave the restrooms, not looking back.

Instead of making things easier for you, he lost you only as he was too afraid to go public yet…

You know me well Tags

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[headoverhiddles]

Bat-Shaped Glasses - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You and another guest need a little salvation from the party you're at.

Notes: Well, this was supposed to be fluffy, but as you all know, one thing leads to another, and... smut. Also, this takes place during Eat Me Drink Me era!  

Tag List: @livelifewondering​

It's early October. This month is "your month" or as you've been reminded by everyone in your circle for the past 7 days. You love Halloween-- something that inspired you to become a horror actress in the first place-- but hearing "spooktober" every other sentence at this party was tiring, to say the least.

Halloween parties are usually fun, but this one is an industry party. You and the rest of the cast of Hell's Most Wanted, a hot new horror franchise, had been invited.

Oh, well. At least you could stand here, look fabulous in the bat shaped glasses and silver bat scarf you had thrown on, enjoy the spiked vampire punch here in Hollywood tonight, and hope someone you'd like to meet walks by. Speaking of Hollywood and vampires...

"Depp!" you call. Your friend whirls around, tan brown hair wild, and spots you through narrowed eyes. He's got a headband with light up devil horns on, and a bit of red glittery eyeshadow on.

"Ah! (y/n)." He frowns for a moment. "You look like you could use another drink, love." You glance down at your glass, realizing it's currently empty.

"Looks like you're right." You two walk over to the refreshments table, and you thank him as he refills your punch, getting a few bat shaped ice cubes in there for you.

"So. Who did your makeup?" you ask, raising a brow. 

"A very dear friend of mine... whom I seem to keep losing. Ah, there he is. When in doubt, look for the brooding shadow in the corner."

Johnny grabs your hand, and leads you over to a man with black hair, black eyeshadow, and press on lower lashes. His lips are ruby red, skin pale, and he's got a long, sweeping black cloak on with ornate black patterning. Cherry on top, his height is intimidating too.

"Nice vampire costume," you smile. The guy looks over at you, unimpressed.

"I look like this everyday. But thanks."

Johnny comes in behind his gothic friend, giving him a shoulder rub. "Manson, play nice. That's (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Never heard of her."

"She's a lovely girl."

"Mm."

"She is!"

"Mm."

"Well," you say awkwardly, pursing your lips, "Nice meeting you, good seeing you Johnny, I'm gonna--"

"Wait," an eye roll from him, "I apologize." The man steps forward, extending a pale hand. "I come off as an asshole until I... y'know, decide not to."

You cautiously decide to shake his hand. His skin is warmer than you expected. "What made you change your mind?"

He smiles wryly. "I don't know. Something about you."

You nod slowly. "(y/n) (y/l/n)."

He shakes your hand. "Marilyn Manson."

Johnny digs out a hand-rolled cigarette, then produces a bag of them. "Anyone for a smoke?"

"Blacken your lungs on your own, Depp," Marilyn mutters, giving a sarcastic wave, "Unless the lady would like to join you, in which case... I'll grin and bear it."

You giggle. "I'm fine."

"Right then. I'm off." Johnny kisses Marilyn on the cheek, then you, then pops off through the crowd, disappearing to the terrace that overlooks West Hollywood.

"Man, these parties are bullshit," Marilyn comments. "You don't know whether to get fucked up or fall asleep." You burst into laughter. He really cuts to the chase, but he's not wrong.

"That about sums it up," you nod.

"Then again, you could do both. But in what order?"

"We could just go find a bush and have a nap," you shrug, "I don't think anyone would miss us." He finally cracks a small smile, walking with you through the crowd.

"That's starting to sound like more and more of a good idea."

You make it to the banquet table, and you pick up two strawberry (booberry, as they're dubbed) cream puffs. He accepts his, and you eat yours, letting the strawberry jelly gush down your lip.

"Now who's the vampire?" he smirks. You blush, wiping your face, and he motions with his head to the terrace. You both walk out, and he breathes a sigh of relief, sitting down in the garden. Black roses surround you, the venue obviously taking their star studded Halloween party seriously. It's as if you're caught up in a gothic novel... or the Addams Family.

"Here." Marilyn places his cream puff on your knee. You shake your head.

"I got it for you."

"I just took it from you so you wouldn't look stupid carrying two around." You give him a funny look. He elaborates. "I don't eat at parties. I'm sick enough already trying to bring myself to talk to people." He shakes his head. "It honestly feels like I'm back in high school sometimes."

You place the cream puff beside you, blinking. "That's exactly how I feel."

He gives a sad smile. "Funny. They don't tell you this, but you can't ever escape the shit. It's all classroom politics-- blame the scapegoat, who's the prettiest, who fucks the best, get dumped when you’re no longer socially useful, and every man for himself."

"High school never really ends, I guess," you say, and watch the crowd of costumed celebrities mingle and laugh. You feel his eyes on you. "I bet you think I was some kind of cheerleader or something in high school," you say.

"No," he says simply, folding his hands in his lap, "I don't have any judgement about you whatsoever. I think it's short-sighted to say that someone looks like they were the pretty one, or the nerd, or the jock. Anybody can become anybody." He glares around. "Although I can tell you that you could find 80% of the guys at this party beating me up for my lunch money."

You look around as well. "I've found that Hollywood, for me, is like all the artsy kids joined up and created a club."

"That's true," Marilyn muses, "It's like all the weird kids were given agents, fancy cars and drugs, and told to go play. I guess it depends on your crowd, though. I know people from all over the social map, but it takes a lot to be my friend." He cocks his head. "Johnny did a good job of snaking his way in with a few snarky comments." You look around for Johnny, though he's probably sauntered off somewhere private. He likes parties for the free alcohol, and nothing else really. 

"What were you like in high school, anyway?" you ask softly, sipping your drink. Marilyn crosses his legs, placing his painted fingernails over his knee.

"I was the kid no one wanted to be seen with. No matter what you were, you wouldn't have either. Doesn't mean I wouldn't have tried to sleep with you, though." He smirks. You shrug.

"Maybe you would've been successful."

"I had a mullet."

"Yikes. Nevermind."

A real laugh comes out of him, and he ducks his head, tucking his black hair behind his ear. You think it's fascinating how shy he is... an international rock star like him. But, just as Marilyn said, proper judgement is impossible in situations such as these.

"What was your prom night like?" you ask.

"My prom night?"

"Mhmm." 

"Boring. I went out with the girl, jerked off when she wouldn't put out." He shrugs. "Didn't help that the suit was thick, it kept rubbing against my dick and gave me a hard on. Of course, at that age, the wind could blow and I'd get an erection. She looked at my crotch, saw that I had a boner, hit me with her purse and called me a pervert. I knew the relationship was over when I pointed out that she was the one looking at my crotch in the first place." You giggle, and he smiles, shaking his head. "People get uncomfortable when you point out their hypocrisy." He rolls his palms on his knees, taking a deep breath of fresh air. "Okay. What was your prom night like?"

"I was drunk, I don't remember." 

He looks at you incredulously for a second, obviously not expecting that answer. "Alright, enough with this high school reunion shit," he says. "We're both here now, at a party in Hollywood, you're talking to Public Enemy Number 1 and I'm talking to Hell's Most Wanted, so I guess we both did something right."

You stand up. "A-ha! So you do know who I am!"

Honest to god, you see him blush. "Yeah. A lot of people do."

"You were faking!"

"That's what I do," he smiles sarcastically, "I'm as fake as a wedding cake."

You step closer to him. "Somehow, I don't think that's true."

You two walk across the terrace. The sound of the traffic in the distance is almost enough to overpower the beginning of Enter Sandman, which is playing inside. "This is the only song I like by Metallica," you tell him. He looks back into the party.

"It's okay. I've been listening to Moon Over Bourbon Street by Sting for the past month, to get over the break up to end all break ups.”

“Oh yeah.” You recall seeing something about Marilyn Manson and divorce in the tabloids recently. “Dita, right?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking down. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, and you don’t press. “Anyway, I wish they'd play Bourbon Street here. Those words make me feel eternal, and it’s not like it would be out of place at a Halloween party." 

"I swear, you must be a real vampire," you tease.

He gives that shy laugh. "I'm a vampire in every sense of being one, without actually being one. I go out at night, sleep half the day away. I'm pale, I like blood." He purses his lips. "I just don't like the taste of it."

"No? What do you drink, then?"

"Absinthe."

Before he can say anything else, you snake through the crowd over to the bar, ordering two Death In The Afternoons, which is a delicious mixture of champagne and Marilyn's poison of choice. You hand him one, and he accepts, sipping it.

"Mm. You trying to get me drunk?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"This is probably the most sober anyone's seen me for weeks," he confides. "I don't know if you'd like me when I'm drunk. Not many people do."

You clink your glass against his. "Same goes for me, Manson."

He looks at you for a long time, until you start to fidget a little. He finally blinks those long eyelashes, tongue coming out to swipe his painted red lips.

"You're very pretty."

You blush hard. "One sip is all it took to get that out of you?"

"I won't let the absinthe take credit for another mistake I make," he smiles, eyes dark and honest, "I've been thinking that since you first called me a vampire."

"I didn't mean anything by it," you whisper, walking back into a dark corner, grinning. He follows, eyes a black pit you want to get lost in.

"No, I get it. Dark, mysterious."

"Charming."

"Brooding."

"Sexy," you moan, and he downs the rest of his drink, dropping it on someone's table. 

"Alright. The absinthe might be in control from here on out, but fuck it." He cups your cheeks, and presses you into that corner, shadows enveloping your two rocking bodies as those blood red lips slip down to touch yours.

"Please," you moan, and he doesn't quite know what you're asking, but he takes a leap of faith, sliding his hands beneath your skirt and bunching it up. His hands move beneath the waistband of your lace panties, and he uses one hand to squeeze your ass, the other using slender fingers to masterfully circle your clit. Well, that was fucking fast.

You breathe heavily into his shoulder, and he draws back a little, eyes searching yours for any little hint as to what's working and what's not. When your eyes roll back and you bite your lip, he continues with the rubbing, rocking his hips forward as well.

Your hands dip into the opening of his cloak, and find his belt buckle, unlatching it slowly, each rock of the hips and grind of his hand against you slow, dirty, deliberate.

"I want you to make me cum on your fingers," you whisper.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he whispers back, lips moving down to nibble at the line of your jaw.

"Yes..."

"Ask again."

"Marilyn, please."

You kiss him again, the two of you making out as your fingers wrap around his semi-hard cock. He hisses slightly at the sensation of your cold hand around him, but a few seconds tick by, and your skin warms up to his, dragging beautifully up and down his hardness.

"You keep doin' that, I'm gonna get your hand real messy," he whispers.

"Get it all over me," you growl, the dirtiness of your words urging you on, "I wanna feel it when we cum together."

"Fuck," he groans, and dips his fingers into you. You marvel at his talent-- in two strokes of his fingers, he's found your g-spot, and you're arching into him, breasts pressed against his chest. 

More than a few thoughts are whirling through your head, but you vaguely tell yourself this is just a rebound for him. He was imagining his ex-wife, that’s all, and--

“(y/n)?” he gasps out, and you’re surprised he’s moaning your name.

“Yeah?”

“C-can I... tell you a secret?”

“Mhmm...”

“After the first episode of Hell’s Most Wanted... I had to jack off.”

You almost laugh, and it comes out as a groan. You imagine Marilyn jacking off, thinking of you... him even having a tiny crush on you. 

"God, that’s so hot," you pant, jerking him faster. He tries to whisper your name again, but it gets garbled as he gasps and cums in your hand. This only forces his fingers deeper, and you grab onto his hair and bite his bottom lip as you cum hard too, riding his fingers in the dark corner of the room.

"Ow," he smiles, pulling away and dabbing at the blood on his lip from the bite. You grin, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.

"See? I could be your vampire." 

"Sweetheart. If I was your vampire, we'd have each other til the sun."

"You're poetic."

"And you're still pretty."

"Glad I haven't lost my appeal after all that," you snort, as the two of you glance around sheepishly. You find napkins to clean up with, and pass him one.

"Nah," he says, taking your other hand, "I think I've warmed up to the idea of you. At least while the moon is still up." 

You take a glance outside, and see a crescent moon trying its best to shine on all the ghosts and ghouls of Hollywood gathered at this party. It's a valiant effort on its part, and it brings the spooky spirit of the evening back.

"Looks like we have a few more hours,” 

“Just don’t break my heart,” he warns.

Against all better judgement, you question him. “What happens if I do?” He lifts a finger up to flick the plastic wings of the novelty Halloween sunglasses. 

“Then I’ll break your bat-shaped glasses.” 

 You take his arm, and you two outsiders re-enter the festive crowd, anonymous but no longer alone.

[storiesnobodyreads]

Doesn’t like you 3

PART THREE

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story: Bucky Barnes doesn’t like you, and you don’t like him either. Your hateful relationship gets tested when you have to go on a mission with the Avengers together.

Warnings: more swearing oops

A/N: took a WHILe but I finally finished the third part! Let me know what y’all think!!

PART ONE | PART TWO

You had spent the past couple of hours helplessly staring at your clothes, scouring through all the dresses you owned, yet none of them appeared to be of a quality high enough to suit Bucky. If you were going to be by his side for an entire night, you were bound to up your game by a thousand fold. He would undoubtedly look astonishingly handsome in one of his fantastic suits; if you were going to be his pretend-girlfriend for now, you had to look at least acceptable. And none of your dresses were good enough.

Perhaps Nat had spent the day reading your mind, because precisely at half past five, when you were on the verge of surrendering and calling yourself in sick, she entered your room with a large body bag. Knowing Nat, you wouldn’t have been surprised had there been an actual corpse in there.

“I come bearing gifts,” Nat said enthusiastically, zipping the bag open, revealing a dozen gorgeous dresses. “I figured you’d be panicking right about now, so I’ve come to be your savior. Happy?”

You attacked her with a firm hug. “Yes. Fuck yes, thank you. If I’m going to a party with—”

“Bucky?”

“—the Avengers, I better make sure I look damn good, right?”

“Sure,” Nat giggled a little. “There will be a lot of paparazzi that will all be dying to take a picture of you on the arm of the Winter Soldier. So, yes, you better make sure you look damn good.”

You ended up selecting a wonderful red dress that nicely hugged the curves of your body, with a high neck and an open back. Nat did your make-up and you sought out your jewelry, looking fancy as fuck when both of you were done with you. “Trust me, babe,” Nat promised you before returning to her own room, “You are going to blow his mind.”

*****

It was fair to say that, now that the time had come, you were quivering like a frightened little chicken. Never before had you been so nervous for a date, let alone a fake one. You stood at the top of the stairs, spotting Bucky downstairs in the corner of your eye. You pressed your eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep, deep breath. It was going to be okay. The worst thing that could happen was that Bucky would start hating you, but he was doing that already anyway.

You stepped out of the shadows, taking another deep breath, revealing yourself to the outside world.

When Bucky saw you, his jaw dropped a little. The sight of you left him speechless. For a solid couple of seconds, he stood gawking at you, looking you up and down, before he finally managed to regroup himself. “You… You look—You don’t look hideous.”

You glared over at him; him in his neat black on black suit and cute bowtie, all refreshed and gorgeous. Your hate for the man didn’t blind you, and he was handsome as fuck. Yet you made a dismissive face. “I wish I could say the same.”

In true date fashion, he held out his arm and you hooked your arm behind his elbow. Bucky puffed out a breath. “Okay, what I meant to say, doll, is that you look very beautiful.”

“Really?” you couldn’t help yourself feeling overtly bewildered. “Well, thank you. You… You look rather handsome yourself, Buck. I like the black on black.”

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky smiled a little too widely.

You noticed it was strangely comfortable to walk arm in arm with Bucky Barnes. He was warm and strong, and he held you firmly. He walked you to the limo that was anticipating your arrival outside, and like a proper gentleman, held the door open for you. It was a smaller limo than you had expected—apparently, there were separate limo’s for all of you or something. This one was just for Bucky and you.

The driver swirled around to face you. “You two were late. The other limo left half an hour ago—you were supposed to be here at six thirty. So the other Avengers are already at the party.” The man frowned a little when he reached over to the passenger’s seat to grab something. “Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” It was a bottle of incredibly expensive-looking champagne.

“Stark sucks,” Bucky hummed under his breath to you while he accepted the champagne from the driver, and carefully handed the rose to you. Out loud, he said, “Thank you very much, sir. I hope we can join them at Duke Holland’s party soon.” The driver then rolled up a window and granted the two of you your privacy. Bucky popped open the champagne and poured a glass for you. “Here.”

You accepted the glass, throwing it back.

“Jeez,” said Bucky, “Why don’t I just give you the whole bottle?”

“Great idea,” you commented quickly, stealing the bottle out of Bucky’s hands, putting the finish to your lips, taking long swigs.

The champagne made your throat tickle, until Bucky stole the bottle back. “Fuck you, I want to drink too. I hate parties. Save something for me, thank you very much.” And then, being a super soldier who could probably deal with alcohol too well, he chugged the entire contents of the bottle.

After finishing it, you let out an indignant gasp and punched him against the shoulder. “No way! That’s so selfish.”

Bucky shrugged, placing the empty bottle down beside him. “You were planning to do it first.”

“But you actually did it, asshole.”

“Relax, fucktard, there’ll be plenty of alcohol at Duke Holland’s party.”

“I hope so, for the sake of your face.”

*****

The drive to Duke Holland’s party was surprisingly comfortable, even though you were pissed off at Bucky for making the alcoholic contents vanish so quickly. However, both of you were, strangely enough, excited for the party and chatted about all kinds of weird stuff. You discussed the dreams you’d had recently, as you usually did in the morning after just waking up, and argued about who generally had the best dreams.

When you arrived, the driver lowered the window and turned around to send an all-knowing smile to you. “Have fun, tonight, love-birds.”

“We’re not—” you started.

“Thank you, sir,” Bucky interrupted you, and climbed out of the vehicle, holding out his hand to help you out. When he saw you frown at him, willing to make a scene out of this, his flashing smile shut you up. “Start getting in character, darling,” he intoned, placing his metal arm around your waist. “We’re in public now. And you’re my girlfriend.”

You returned his blinding smile. “Right. Sorry, babe. Don’t worry, I’m afraid you’re underestimating what a fantastic actress I am.”

“Pretty sure I’m not underestimating you,” Bucky pointed out. “My expectations are incredibly high for tonight. I expect you to use all your charms.”

You laughed, leaning in closer to Bucky. Seductively, you placed your hand on his chest, taken aback by how small you looked compared to his massive pecks. You stood on your toes so that you could match Bucky’s height, bringing your lips so close to his that you could feel his hot breath. “Are you sure?” you whispered. “My charms might kill you.”

Just for a split second, you could swear Bucky looked nervous. Then, he huffed out a mocking breath that he might or might not have been holding. “Darling,” he gave your back a squeeze and pressed your body closer to him. “I think I can handle you.”

A giggle escaped your lips as you untangled yourself from his grip, holding on to his hand as you pulled him after you. “Ah, just don’t fall in love with me,” you teased him. He laughed and didn’t respond, tightening his grasp around your hand, as if he needed somewhat insurance that you wouldn’t just let go.

The two of you strolled side by side, making your way to the carpet that led through the entrance of Duke Holland’s home—home was a relative word, this building looked more like a castle in the middle of the city. The crowd grew as you approached the place, paparazzi turning and people screaming and pointing. Before you knew what was happening, cameras were aimed in your direction and flashed blinding lights into your eyes. You had to blink heavily, feeling your heart sink through the ground.

Bucky scowled at you, “Don’t squeeze my hand so hard!”

“But people are staring at us, Buck,” you squeaked.

“That’s because you’re crushing the hand of the Winter Soldier,” Bucky whispered annoyed. “Fucking hell, just smile and wave.”

You could feel the familiar bubbles in your chest as you started to get mad at Bucky. “But you’re not smiling and waving.” 

“That’s not my thing,” he protested. “I just stand there and look at them like I can murder them.”

“But you can murder them.”

“Exactly. I have to stick to my imago.”

“Ah,” you finally understood. “So Tony wanted me to pretend to be your girlfriend because people would be more scared of you than that they would be interested in me. I get noticed less. I stay safe.”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. You stay safe.”

“Do we go inside?” you asked. “You promised there’d be alcohol. You know, since you drank it all. Man, I should just have gone with Sam. He would have done his best to get me drunk within two minutes.”

“You’re right, let’s get drunk,” Bucky agreed. “I have to admit, I usually just walk straight inside. I don’t even take time to let the paparazzi take pictures of me attending parties. Sends the wrong message.”

You squeezed his hand as hard as you could to clarify your anger, while you kept a holy smile plastered on your smile for the cameras. “Asshole, then why didn’t we just do that now?”

Bucky grinned, which was the first time he cracked a smile since you were on the carpet. “Because it was making you more uncomfortable than me.”

“Asshole,” you repeated.

“All right,” Bucky gestured you to follow him, and you strolled past the photographers that were begging you to stop and let them take a good picture of you. “At least now you have a picture of us together that you can hang over your bed.”

You scoffed. “Why? So that I can have nightmares?”

“No, sexy dreams.”

You let out a mocking laugh, feeling your jaw drop and your heartrate quicken. “No way. I might hang it up, but only to throw darts into your face.”

Bucky opened his mouth to clap back, but was interrupted by a tipsy Tony, who warmly spread his arms when he spotted the two of you together. “My favorite couple in the world!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers as a sign for the barman to get you a drink. “How’s it going? Enjoyed the private limo?”

You narrowed your eyes. Tony had so many double intentions it was hard for you to see what his original ones were. “Yeah, thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, no problem,” Tony was shaking his head. He positioned himself in between Bucky and you, clapping you both on the back. “Here, have a seat. Your drinks will be ready in a minute. Y/N, you look stunning. Now go get drunk and have fun!” He was beaming widely.

“What about the mission, Stark?” Bucky busted out. “Don’t you have to brief us about the location of the jewelry? I don’t even know what his bride looks like to protect her.”

Tony was waving his comments away. “No, no, I made all of that up,” he smirked, looking completely content with himself. “There won’t be a robbery. Not that I know of, anyway. I just made up this mission to get you to come to a party.” Bucky was flabbergasted, unable to respond. Tony then narrowed his eyes. “And the bride is the one in the white dress, dipshit.” Without saying another word, Tony wandered off, undoubtedly on his way to find Pepper, or to find a new drink.

Bucky angrily held quiet, while you were giggling unstoppably. Bucky moved to sit with his back toward you, accepted his cocktail from the bartender, and grumpily started sipping his drink. When you really wouldn’t stop laughing, he snapped at you: “Quit it, Y/N, it’s not funny.”

You shrugged. “It’s a little funny.”

“I don’t like people lying to me,” Bucky busted out, his metal arm whirring as anger got the better of him. “I don’t like being fooled. Lies aren’t good for anyone. I want people to be fucking honest. Stark is a lying, deceitful turd.”

You drank from your cocktail for a bit before you replied. “Take it easy, there, tiger,” you said. “He just wants you to have fun. And you’re here now, so you might just as well do it.” When Bucky didn’t react, you nudged him with your shoulder. “Come on. You told me that we’d get drunk. And you’re a man from your word, right?”

Bucky sighed deeply. “Right.” He caught the attention of the bartender. “Excuse me, can we have like eight shots of vodka, please?” The man nodded, though appearing slightly confused. You granted Bucky a broad smile. “Okay,” Bucky said when the shots were prepared. “Here’s to fun.” You clinked the glasses and threw the alcohol back, enjoying the feeling of it burning down your throat.

You coughed. “Yeah, here’s to fun.”

*****

Admittedly, everything was fun. As soon as Bucky let a little loose thanks to the alcohol, he talked more freely and was even willing to dance every now and then. You loyally stuck by his side, reminding yourself that you were still under instructions to pretend to be his girlfriend. However, after a while, you realized that the instructions didn’t even make a difference. Had you been there without them, you still would have chosen to hang out with Bucky.

There was mostly loud dance music booming from the speakers, enabling you and Bucky to absolutely dance your asses off. The man was a surprisingly good dancer, smooth in the hips. It led you to think certain things that you probably shouldn’t, and downed another shot.

Only once did a slow song get played, which you deeply suspected was Tony’s fault. You found the billionaire snickering on a speaker next to the dj’s booth, with a glass filled with strong booze dangling in his hand. Steve Rogers sat by his side, rolling his eyes, but looking amused.

A hot flush of embarrassment shot through your cheeks, but Bucky didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed one hand an placed the other politely on your back. When he saw you looking, taken aback by his confident hold on you, he shrugged a little. “Part of the service of me being your fake-boyfriend,” he explained, swinging you in his arms on the rhythm of the music. You wanted to say something sassy, but reluctantly loved the feeling of being in his arms, and all you produced was a little noise. Bucky’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?” But he quickly let it go, swinging you into a pirouette.

Overall, everything was going great, but then, in one second, that all changed. You made the mistake of looking over Bucky’s shoulder.

When you saw him, your heart dropped. Viciously—as if it got trampled and torn into a thousand pieces. A wide range of panic shot through you as you recognized your ex-boyfriend, standing not too far away from you. You did not want to see him; a year ago, after a two-year relationship, he’d cheated on you and broken your heart. Even though you surely had gotten over him, seeing him reminded you of the pain you had felt.

Bucky immediately noticed the disturbance in your posture, and stirred beside you. Rapidly, his eyes scanned the environment to find what was bothering you. His breath hitched a little when he figured it out. “That’s Mike, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Bucky glanced over at you and saw your hurt expression. Softly, he growled, “Want me to rough him up for you?”

You made a face, not necessarily against that idea. “Nah,” you then shook your head. “I already kicked him in the balls when I found out he had cheated on me.”

Bucky clasped his jaws together. “Well, he’s an idiot, that’s for sure.”

All of a sudden, Mike turned, and his eyes fell on you. “Oh, shit, he saw us,” you panicked, “He definitely saw us. He’s coming over. Fuck, Bucky, he’s coming over. What do we do? What the fuck do we do?”

“Fucking calm down, you shit,” Bucky hissed at you. You didn’t know what to do or where to go or what to say or how to smile or stand or talk—you really just didn’t want to see him. Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your face with both hands. His metal and flesh hand cupped your cheeks as an intense look came over him, his blue eyes shining recklessly as he abruptly moved in closer.

It completely caught your off guard.

Bucky kissed you.

And three seconds later, a gun was fired.

*****

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @the-maze-of-books @dugan365 @bookgirlunicorn

[cali-holland]

A Secret Love- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Singer!Reader

Prompt: You’re tired of hiding your relationship with Tom 

Word Count: 1800

Based On: Secret Love Song by Little Mix

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Hey, darling.” Tom smiled, greeting you at your photo shoot. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek, leaving you disappointed. You were hoping for at least a small kiss on the lips, not a complete romantic dodge. But you understood his reasons- your relationship was a secret. As he handed you your tea, he asked, “How is my favorite singer doing?”

“Good,” You shrugged, sipping your warm drink lightly, “Just a normal photo shoot day.”

“But it’s special.” He said, making a small blush spread across your cheeks.

“I wouldn’t call it special.” You replied.

“No, it is most certainly special.” He stated, sitting on the prop of a red couch. “Album number 3.”

“It’s definitely a landmark album.” You answered as you sat next to him. He casually draped an arm around you, being sure not to mess your hair or outfit up too badly, as you were just in between takes for right now. “The album isn’t even done yet. I feel like I’m just too ahead of the game.”

“Hey, that’s okay. You’re on top of things. You’ll get the album finished, just like you got the last two finished. Don’t stress about it, darling.” Instead of replying to him, you just gave him a discouraged look. “Okay, how about, after your shoot is done, I take you out to lunch?”

“My shoot won’t be done until 4.”

“You got here at 7?” Tom replied, confused with the times.

“Yes, it’s all day shoot. We’re also shooting possible single covers. With only me, they’ve got a lot of photos to take.”

“Okay, well, still. When it’s all done, I’ll take you out for food.”

“Are you seriously planning on staying here for over five hours?”

“Yeah, you’ve stayed for mine, granted they’ve never been that long.”

“You don’t have to do all the outfit changes and touch ups.” You teased.

“That’s true- I’m perfect.” Tom smirked. You scoffed and ruffled his hair playfully. “Hey, hey!” He exclaimed, fixing it immediately.

“Y/N,” the head photographer called, “We’re ready for you.”

“Hold this for me, will you, love?” You asked Tom, handing him the tea as you stood up. He sat back in the couch and watched as you were a model for the day.

~~~

At the end of your photoshoot, Tom held your hand as you made your way through the building. You were smiling at the thought of actually going on a date some place public.

“Ah, paps.” Tom said, stopping at the end of the stairwell. He squeezed your hand tightly and then dropped it. You sighed as your hopeful dreams were quickly crushed. You positioned yourself between your security guard and Tom, with another guard standing behind him. THe four of you exited the building and got to Tom’s car as soon as possible, with minimal photos taken.

“It’s always an adventure when we got out together.” Tom laughed, holding your hand once more. He gave you a real kiss, but you couldn’t help that sorrowful feeling paining your heart. When this whole secret began a month ago, it was great and exhilarating; you and Tom  had been madly in love with each other since meeting an awards show a year earlier. But now, it hurt you- the thought of never being to hold each other on the street was just too unbearable for you.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, his hands playing with your own.

“It doesn’t matter.” You told him the all too familiar lie.

“Oh, by the way, Harrison is having a party tonight. Do you want to go, or are you too tired?”

“I can go, but I’ll be minimizing my makeup.” You replied, making him chuckle and plant a kiss on your cheek.

“You don’t need any makeup, Y/N. You’re beautiful no matter what.”

“You’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known, you know that?” You smiled at him as he began to blush.

“I know now.” He said cheekily.

~~~

That night, you and Tom attended Harrison’s house party together. Once again, Tom held your hand tightly in the car, but quickly dropped it upon exiting. You greeted Harrison with a smile and dove into the party atmosphere with your boyfriend.

“Come on, I want to dance.” You said, pulling Tom towards the dancefloor as one of your favorite songs turned on.

“Sure, but we’ve got to keep it casual.” Tom laughed, following you the dancefloor area. Tom’s eyes wandered from you to the others around you, hoping no one would speak of your intimacy, even if it was just dancing.

“Tom, I’ve been working all day. I just want to let loose a little, okay?” You asked, putting your arms around his neck, pulling him into you.

“Y/N, you know we can’t-”

“We can. It’s just a party. We should be enjoying ourselves.” You gave him your best smile, which made him smile in return. He couldn’t say no to you, not like this.

“You got me.” Tom let out a small chuckle before beginning to move to the music as you had already been doing.

“Damn, I really want to kiss you right now.” You teased and he smirked.

“What can I say? I’m irresistible.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “But not right now.”

“If you say so.” You mumbled in a disappointed tone that Tom seemed to have missed completely. The moment was pulled away as Tom’s phone began to ring.

“It’s my manager.” He said confused as to why they would be calling at such an unusual time. As Tom stepped out into the empty hallway, you busied yourself in the kitchen, mingling with old friends and acquaintances. When your boyfriend returned to your side, he had a grieving look on his face.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, concern flooding your face.

“We just need to talk.” Tom replied. He lead you outside, where the two of you could be alone and away from watchful eyes.

“What is it?” You asked once again.

“My manager was offered a new deal for me.”

“That’s amazing. What is it? Did you accept?”

“It’s not a film.” He said as his face truly turned pale at the thought of whatever his manager had proposed.

“Oh, so what is it then?” You inquired, holding his hand tightly in reassurance.

“My popularity has hit a static point and my manager was offered a deal that would increase it without really increasing my workload. The offer is for me to date, well fake date, an A-List actress.”

“Oh,” You said, dropping his hand to take a step back. Your heart hurt at the proposition, “Did you accept?”

“Of course not. You’re my girlfriend,” His voice dropped slightly at the mention of your title, “And I wouldn’t want to date anyone else.”

“Did you tell your manager?”

“Well, no, he’d never approve.” Tom stated.

“Approve?” You questioned, feeling offended by his lax word choice.

“No, not like that. I just meant that he probably won’t agree with me dating a successful, rising artist. He’ll think it’s bad publicity, just like every other thing I do. Unless it’s charity, it’s bad for my image.”

“Or unless it’s dating an A-List actress.” You said.

“Y/N,” Tom said, holding your hands in his once again, “You are my one and only, I swear. I love you, no matter what my manager says, and I’ll never want to date anyone besides you, even if it is just fake dating.”

“I think you should tell your manager about us.”

“I don’t know-”

“I want you to tell your manager.” You corrected your wish in a commanding tone.

“For you, I will.” He stated, giving you a small peck on the cheek.

The evening continued quietly until Tom was driving you home. You had thought all evening about the possible outcomes of telling the world of your relationship. Your manager already knew and she was supportive of your relationship. Tom, on the other hand, was a bit more worried about his next phone call with his manager. The whole idea of keeping this a secret much longer was depressing.

“Y/N?” Tom asked and you looked over at him from the passenger’s seat.

“Yes?”

“You’re crying. What’s on your mind?” He asked sincerely. As he stopped in front of your house, he wiped away your silent tears.

“It’s just hard.” You replied, “Everything is so hard. I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. Outside, I can’t be yours and you can’t be mine. I don’t want to live love this way. I want you to hold me in the street; I want to kiss you on the dancefloor; I want to shout that I love you from the rooftops; I want it to be like that. This secret love we have going on is taking too much of a toll on me.”

“I understand.” Tom said after a quiet moment. “I just want to protect you. I don’t want your career to be ruined by me. I want to shout that I love you from the rooftops too because it’s true. I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you so much.” You leaned in and kissed him over the center console.

“Here, come with me.” He got out of the car and you followed him into your apartment complex.

“Tom, where are you going?” You asked as you began to climb the stairs behind him.

“The roof.” He smiled back at you. Once on the roof, he held your hand as he looked out over the city. At the top of his lungs, he shouted, “I love Y/N Y/L/N.”

You laughed at his cheesiness, before repeating after him and professing your love for him. He pulled you in close and gave you a kiss.

“There, no more hiding.”

“No more hiding.” You smiled as he rested his forehead against yours.

~~~

“Hey, Harrison, come on!” Tom said as he turned up the volume of his hotel television.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Harrison stated, rushing into the room and sitting beside his friend on the couch.

A soft piano melody began to play as a light flickered on, illuminating the Brits stage. There you sat, in the middle of the artist-filled room, playing the instrument. It was then that you began to sing the song you had written about that night on the rooftop:

“We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

As you drive me to my house

I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide

On the outside where I can't be yours and you

Can't be mine

But I know this

We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours…”

~~~

Tag List:  @gray-rose13 @devan-d @flammy-whater @cutefluffy89 @ria132love

[sienna27]

Sorry this is a bit long, kept thinking of other points.

I am going to step into something going on here in the fandom that I could very easily just ignore.  But I’m not going to :)   And if you opt to read the below, please try to read it with an open mind, and take the points I’m ‘attempting’ to make as maybe a fresh spin on what’s been going on the last few months.  But if in the end some folks get offended, like I’m taking a shot at them personally and end up unfollowing me, or blocking me, I understand.  That’s cool, we all get to personalize our experience on here and if I’m annoying you, then of course you’ll want to remove me from your life :)  But please know that it’s not at all my intention to irritate anyone, or talk down to anyone, because I’ve already blocked the folks that I think are the main problems here, so this is just kind of a general plea to outline what I think is going on, and what I think that maybe some of the rest of us could do to take a bit of the internal negativity we keep seeing, out of the ship fandom.

So what was that preamble all about?  Well, my pure exhaustion with the pages in the ship fandom so regularly, and suddenly, being filled with hate towards random members of the cast/crew because somebody made an offhand remark, joke, or flippant remark about ‘the ship,’ or a ‘member’ of it.  I think we’re up to maybe five people now with a scarlet letter.  And I’m going to expand my thoughts below on this because it just keeps on happening, and it is making me SOOOO weary, because the drama is impossible to ignore even when you stay off the C tag.  And I know I’m not the only one who is tired of it, because I’ve heard from other people who have said they’ve reluctantly unfollowed some blogs they used to like because of all the rants/hate posts popping up.  To that, the below:

First, has anybody else noticed that these things always start with hate filled rants, but no links.  Like, let’s pick somebody who is still ‘pristine,’ (at least as far as I know), Andy.  So I’m going to put up a post right now and say that “I can’t believe Andy said those horrible, shitty insulting things about M.  He’s such a douchebag and I can’t believe I ever thought he was a good guy and he clearly isn’t really her friend if he could say that kind of crap!”

Now, what’s your initial, IMMEDIATE, reaction to this?  Confusion and upset, right?  First confused because I didn’t tell you EXACTLY what Andy allegedly said, and upset because you always had the impression that Andy was a good guy and now you’re starting to feel kind of a discomfort in your gut thinking that he isn’t and will you still be able to enjoy watching him play Rick who is like you third favorite character if it turns out that all along Andy has been a secretly scuzzy person.  Those are all normal, expected reactions.   Because they’re coming from your gut.  But think about them for a second.  What proof has this person provided to say that Andy is a scumbag?  None.  Because NOBODY EVER LINKS TO THESE INTERVIEWS.  At least none of the ones that I ever see.  All I see are these random, ‘this person sucks’ posts, with no linked ‘evidence’ of said suckage and a whole crapload of notes on these posts with half of the readers reblogging and saying, “God what an asshole!” and the other half just answering, “wait, what happened?  What did he say?  Can somebody please put a link here so I can see exactly what happened?”  And the response to that request is usually . . . silence.  Eventually somebody figures out, or finds out from somebody off the thread, what is being referred to, and puts a link.  But that should be the FIRST thing we’re putting out there.  If I’m saying that Andy is a total fuckwad, I should be backing that shit up with a “LOOK HERE AND SEE FOR YOURSELF . . .”   but it’s like nobody who starts this stuff wants you to see (think) for yourself.  Because by the time that link exists on one of these reblogs for everyone else to read, or listen to, for themselves, the impression of this famous person’s remarks (and the person himself) is already ‘tainted.’  Because nobody now is going into reading that article, or listening to that clip, as a blank slate, they’re going into it with a negative impression of this actor because we have been told he did/said something terrible.  We are now subconsciously, ‘predisposed’ to interpret their behavior with that slant.  And that’s even assuming that everyone takes the time, or has the time, to look into things for themselves.  So basically what this initial Tumblr person ranted about (with no screenshots of the FULL article, or clips of the FULL interviews) could have actually been a joke, or a tired, flippant remark after ten hours of interviews, or four words taken out of context, or an ironic statement or a sarcastic response to the general tone of an interview question.  And now what’s been put out for everyone to read is, “THIS GUY IS A DICK!!!!” and it doesn’t matter what the truth of things may have been, we’ve all already been ‘infected’ with this dark take, on a previously neutral person’s, character.  Basically to paraphrase a much more famous quote, “the rant has traveled half way around the world while the truth was still putting on its shoes.” So all I’m saying is, please don’t take other people’s unsubstantiated impressions of a situation, as gospel.  Put on your critical thinking skills when you come across this kind of stuff because a lot of times when I dig into something myself, what has been spread all through the fandom as the alleged ‘misogyny’ ‘ageism’ ‘total fuck you to M,’ started with one or two people taking a Grand Canyon leap and getting offended at something they perceived, and then putting their ‘offense’ out into the world like it was unequivocal truth, to get a whole bunch of other people riled up.  Basically it’s a game of God damn telephone, and it’s ridiculous that it keeps running unchecked.  

Now second to that, half the time these rants about slights against M are followed up by saying how this ‘constant’ sexism/racism/ageism/ etc., is A) more evidence for Team B or D, or ABC to say X,Y,Z about our ship’s relationship.  Like, I’m sorry, why do we give a flying fuck what any of those other people think?  Not being a jerk, just saying, seriously, why would any of us care what other strangers think about our views on a FAKE RELATIONSHIP?  I mean, step back and think, how silly is that?   Those people are entitled to their world views, and if someone in one of those groups is being a douche and deliberately inserting themselves into our tags saying nasty shit, block them or turn off the Anon feature.  Because really, letting these people send you Anon ship hate, or letting them continue to show up on your feed when a simple click makes them go away, is just masochistic.  You’re ruining your own enjoyment on Tumblr.   So that all goes for the opposition, now here’s B, the ‘Debbie Downers’ within!  And you all know who they are, it is obvious there are a few people around the fandom who seem to make a living off taking offense at everything and anything they come across.   I’m guessing they are just super negative people in real life who always presume the worst of every person in every situation.  And they are such a teeny little percentage of the generally nice folks around here (and I try to block the Debbie Downers when I come across them) but they speak loudly, and their CONSTANT negativity, infects so many of the rest of us.  Because no joke, the only place I consistently see M getting insulted, are by those people here who claim to be huge fans of hers, that like to spread those insults over and over through the fandom to say how horrible it is that all of these other people have allegedly said these things about her.  That’s like if one random person calls my mom a “fat, ugly, piece of shit,” and then I tell everyone that I ever meet after that how so and so has called my mom a “fat, ugly, piece of shit.”  Nobody else would ever know that had happened if I didn’t feel the need to regularly repeat those insults under the guise of ‘defending’ my mother and hashtag feminism and all this other crap.  How about you just don’t repeat that shit?  I mean, what’s the point, honestly?  Ninety percent of the time it’s coming from somebody who is just trolling to get a rise out of you, so why would you let them have the satisfaction?  And even if it’s not a troll, and just someone who is simply an asshole and believes they will be young and pretty forever, then we’re back to, why do you care?  It’s the Internet, people are dicks.  Block them and move on with your life.  There is zero upside to engaging or repeating their comments.   And the third option/scenario, is the one I already mentioned in the above, those chosen few regularly looking to be offended by the remarks of people known generally to be people M considers close friends and ‘family.’   Now let’s think about that one for a second.  These people are not our friends.  We don’t know them.  These are folks who all work months on end, sixteen plus hour days where they forged actual REAL LIFE relationships.  No matter how amazing we might find a particular actress, we are not in her life.  We are not in a place to police, or determine who her “real” friends are.  We don’t know ANYTHING about the personal relationships these people have with one another.  So it is just not “appropriate” for us to go around calling her friends douchebags, shitheads, whatever, because somebody else ‘decided’ that her real life friend was taking a public shot at her age and looks (because that’s clearly the logical inference of something her friends would do *eye roll) and be offended on her behalf because she deserves to have better people in her life!  And you might be thinking right now, well who the fuck are you sienna to be telling us what WE should be offended about?   Fair enough :)  I’m a nobody too.  I’m a nobody to her, and I’m a nobody to you.   Again, all I’m saying is, a lot of this is drama is so obviously for the of sake of itself.  People who like attention, and aren’t happy unless they’re stirring shit up.  So really, just consider the source of a comment.  If a comment is coming from someone that M has posted happy, cuddly selfies with that person PROBABLY should be given all benefit of all doubts that no cruelty or ill intent was behind, said random fuzzily sourced comment that nobody wants to show you proof was actually said.

Lastly, all of the people who jump in here and start these rants under the guise of defending M’s honor, how do you think M would feel to hear all of the shit that gets spoken about people like N, and so on, and so forth.  Do you think that any of us predicating our remarks by saying “I’m a huge fan of hers and she’s so amazing that she deserves to have amazing people in her life,” would ‘endear’ our remarks to her?  No!  Because if it was you, in real life, who heard some random stranger talking shit about your friend that you have silly inside jokes with, and who listens when you had a fight with your boyfriend, or gives you a hug when you’re sad, and maybe spends holidays and birthdays with you because you’re all so far away from your families that these people ARE your adoptive family, would you be okay with this person you care about being torn apart and called every d’bag name in the book?  No, you would be thinking, ‘fuck you, who the hell do you think you are to say those things?  You don’t KNOW anything about him!’  Time and again celebrities drop off of social media because their “fanbase” starts harassing and attacking a new girlfriend or a new boyfriend because, quote, “they can do better.”  To vilify M’s real world friends like we know best for her, is NO different than any of that dumb crap that happens with the boy bands when one of them dares to get a girl.  So this is my point, (again not to be all Lecture Girl, just raising alternative points to ponder here) just please when this crap starts rolling through, step back and consider whether or not your gut is getting manipulated by the Drama for the Sake of Itself Folks, but also consider real empathy for the people being maligned in these situations.  Like this new crap with “J.”  Considering that I read an article with him from December (Linked here :)) where he talks about how pissed off he is that AM got all that shit online for her looks and weight after the baby, and that the cyber bullies are assholes, would he really be taking shots at the looks of ANOTHER female costar/friend?  Especially when he states himself that he usually uses self deprecating humor to deflect the assholes from taking shots at his appearance, by taking shots at himself first and he hates that he has to do that because the cyber bullies should stop being dicks and calling out other people’s appearances.  Does this REALLY sound like a mean spirited, jerky, woman hating, two faced type guy?  Maybe what he said was an awkward joke.  Maybe he was tired.  Or maybe he was just saying something deadpan as a way to diffuse the tension (or stupidity) that other people build up around a romantic situation involving a woman with, ‘grey hair.’  

And I am done here now.  I don’t want to debate this point with anyone.  I don’t care enough about a fake TV relationship to engage in a real world fight :) If you took offense at my words, again, sorry, not my intent, but if that happened, let us part ways here with a block and you’ll never have to hear from me on any subject again :)  I only stepped into this because it feels like, (to me) that there is a certain amount of, if not bullying (because I feel like that term is very much overused to describe any sort of commentary someone doesn’t agree with) but let’s say, “aggressive” conversation on these points.  Like if you don’t agree with X person’s take who started the fray, then you’re going to get a hard earful about how this person’s take on the world is right, and your take is wrong, and that’s all there is to it.  And those kind of tones can make some people ‘cow away’ from speaking up again because they don’t feel comfortable really speaking for an alternate viewpoint.   And like I said to start, I know it’s not just me who is feeling like the CONSTANT internal negativity from certain people about any and every perceived slight to M is just exhausting.  I’m not going to end here with Suzy Sunshine quote, but just you know let’s try and remember the that the actors in our ship are arguably the most popular, and unarguably the most talented.  Neither of them is likely to be killed off before the last season, if even then.  So in the meantime, the ship looks like it’s about to sail.  Let’s just try to enjoy what’s coming next without mucking up the waters for ourselves.   We don’t need to be our own worst enemies.  That’s what Gimple is for :)

And I shall leave you with..