#i still have an hour left. like a meeting of everyone with a movie director 😳 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sevlgi · 4 years ago

Text

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship.

a/n: while i was writing this, i imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao...

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is. Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?”

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung.

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek.

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head.

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,” you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown.

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips.

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins.

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist.

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #rosé x reader #rosé imagines #rosé scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink rosé #blackpink chaeyoung #park chaeyoung #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung imagines #blackpink is the revolution #blackpink in your area #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios

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theperfectlovestory · 4 years ago

Text

You Are My Home

I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE

Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂

Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Theme: fluff

TW: none (?)

Word Count: 2,241

"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together

Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while

You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty

Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now

After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally

"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled

"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"

You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled

"Hey, just want you healthy"

"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"

Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that

"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented

Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future

"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"

The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times

"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor

"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps

Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply

Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen

Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well

"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call

"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her

"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth

They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams

Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull

Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again

"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up

"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled

"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded

"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"

Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again

"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged

"Then how did you two got together"

Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them

It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest

A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out

You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you

So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch

One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed

You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening

She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her

But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor

If ever, it only made you dizzy

She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents

You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless

"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it

"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you

You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them

"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you

"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"

You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"

"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all

You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high

If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space

It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can

"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone

She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"

The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work

You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after

"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"

The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"

You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter

She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet

"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice

She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared

"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"

"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"

"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"

"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"

The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera

"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face

"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile

"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"

"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks

"I guess we are both lucky then"

"Yeah"

Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home

#elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #imagine #domestic

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years ago

Text

Stormy Sleepover - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

I haven’t written in like, years. I previously wrote for Colby Brock at @colbybrocksmolder and someone asked me to write for Tom so I figured I’d give it a shot.

I hope you enjoy!

_________________________

“Did you hear there was a storm coming?” one of your PA’s, Andi, asked you. You were in charge of making sure the cast all had assistants and that their life on set ran smoothly. You’d been working with these guys since the very first Thor movie.

“I got a notification on my phone a few hours ago, but this building is so big I doubt we’d know if it had actually hit yet.” You pulled up your weather app and clicked on the “!” checking to see what the “alert” was. “Oh god” you said, shocked to read that most of the county was already out of power.

“I told you, call me Chris.” Behind you, Hemsworth was chuckling leaning over to read what you were looking at on your phone.

“Ha, ha.” You laughed at his cheesy joke. “But seriously, has anyone been outside in the last few hours?”

Looking at your phone, Hemsworth shrugged and headed towards one of the truck bays.

In front of you, you watched Evans and Tom training with each other. There were various scenes in this movie involving water and a big thing the trainers had been working with them on was safely landing in water. It sounds funny, but you can break bones or knock yourself unconscious if you land wrong.

“Bad news” Hemsworth yelled out, getting everyone’s attention. “This building has been running on generators. There’s no power in the whole lot.” He dramatically shook his arms, flinging rain water on you and Andi.

“No wonder this water has gotten so cold” Evans added, shivering. “It’s usually warmed, but It’s ice right now.”

You sent a text to the director who was in a meeting with the writers. You received a text back fairly quickly. “Let everyone know we’ve got 6 more rooms at the Hyatt Hotel a few towns over for those who don’t have trailers on the lot. Tell everyone else that it looks like the power won’t be fixed until tomorrow afternoon. There’s a whole line of downed power lines that they can’t get to until the storm stops. The generators only run lights and a few outlets and it looks like they’re going to die soon too. The 16 seater van is outside with a driver to take people to the hotel.”

“Looks like we’re done for the day.” You said mostly to yourself, with Hemsworth and Andi hearing you.

“Everybody in.” Hemsworth hollered out so you wouldn’t have to yell.

“Thanks.” You shot him a smile.

“Any time” he replied, flinging his long wet hair towards you.

“I take it back.” You laughed, moving to stand on your chair.

“I know that not everyone has a trailer in the lot yet as we haven’t actually started filming, so for anyone that doesn’t have a home here there’s a van outside that will take to you the hotel that has power nearby. It’s already super chilly in here, so I imagine it’s freezing outside.” You spoke so everyone could hear you.

“Can confirm.” Hemsworth said, starting to shiver a bit.

“There’s umbrellas near the catering tables and there’s a bunch of old hoodies and jackets in the extras costume bay. Make sure you’re warm and dry before you head to the van.”

Everyone that didn’t have a trailer on set left once they had their instructions.

“As for the rest of us, we have to hunker down in our trailers until this passes. I have solar power and full solar batteries on my trailer so all of you are more than welcome to come crash with me if your trailer is too cold or you need electricity for anything.”

You, Hemsworth, Evans, Tom, and Scarlett were the only ones on set that had trailers so far.

“It can’t be THAT cold” Evans joked, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.

“Scarlett went to her trailer a few hours ago” Tom shared. “I only got here last night so I don’t even have my trailer set up. Are you sure you’re okay if I go grab my bag and come steal some of your space?”

“Absolutely” you smiled at him. “And if I know Scarlett, she’s already in my trailer. I don’t think her trailer was even hooked up to power yet. Her’s was the newest one on the lot.”

“Thank you, darling. I’ll go grab my bag and check Scarlett’s trailer on my way to yours.” Tom replied and then jogged towards the door.

Andi left to catch the van once you passed your notes from the day on to her. “Be safe. Don’t worry about making it back tomorrow. I will email you any further updates I have for assignments.”

“I’m going to head back to my trailer and see if I have any cell services.” Hemsworth shared after everyone else had started leaving. “I know my wife probably has all of the weather and accident alerts on for the whole county and she’s probably worried.”

“Be safe.” You said, taking his offered hand so you could step off of your chair safely. “I’ll grab the satellite phone in the emergency kit and take it to my trailer just in case we need it.”

“It looks like you may have a full house tonight.” Hemsworth Joked.

“You’re welcome to join the insanity.” You teased, throwing your hoodie on and grabbing the satellite phone.

When you made it to your trailer, you were pretty soaked. Even with the umbrella, the rain was insane.

“Thank God you didn’t leave.” Scarlett startled you.

“I knew you’d already be in here.” You laughed. “Tom is on his way. His trailer is like yours. We didn’t even get a chance to get them hooked up before this crazy storm hit.”

“Oooo Lover boy is coming.” She teased.

“Oh, shut it. We’re friends, Scar. That’s it. We’ve never been more than friends.” You started stripping out of your wet clothes and slipped on a pair of soft black sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. It was dark green with “Mischief” written across the front. There were gold horns painted on the hood.

“I’ve known your friend almost as long as you have and the way he looks at you…I’m just saying. I think there’s something there.” She teased, gathering your wet clothes and putting them in a laundry bin that was tucked under one of the beds.

You both turned to the door hearing what sounded like a woman screaming bloody murder. “Let me in” Evans yelled, banging on the door.

Scarlett opened the door while you grabbed a towel. She laughed at him, seeing him drenched head to toe. “It was unlocked, tough guy.”

“You hit an octave I don’t think I can even reach, Cap” you teased, throwing him the towel and going back into your PJ drawer for an oversized t shirt and a baggy pair of sweats.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong. It’s fucking freezing in my trailer and I didn’t realize that the water would be cold because the power has been out for so long.” Evan’s teeth were chattering as he stripped out of his clothes, trying to dry off.

“I think I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve seen you naked, Evans.” Scarlett laughed, handing him the clothes you picked out for him.

“Thank god you aren’t seeing the front. It’s so cold I think my manhood has retreated fully into my body” Evans replied, throwing the clothes on and drying his hair with the towel.

Both of you laughed. You started brewing a pot of coffee and turned your water kettle on for tea. “Well, Scarlett already claimed the couch.” You mentioned. “Why don’t you take the regular bed so that if Hemsworth joins, you two can bunk together. It’s queen size so it should fit you both comfortably.”

Evans crawled into bed, wrapping himself in the blankets and trying to warm up. “Where will you sleep?”

“The dining room table and benches turn into a bed.” You replied. “It’s a full size, so almost as big as the one you’re in.”

“Did you hear that?” Evans perked up, trying to look out the tiny window he could still see through from the bed.

You and Scarlett quieted down. Getting louder you could hear Hemsworth yelling “NO, I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER!” every time lighting would strike and the sky would boom.

“Looks like it’s going to be a full house tonight.” Scarlett laughed, opening the door. “Get your godly ass in here, you crazy Australian.”

“He’s clearly the superior Chris” Evans joked. “Are you fucking crazy?” he asked as Hemsworth stepped into the trailer.

“Possibly. Probably.” Hemsworth laughed, trying not to get water all over the floor.

Scarlett grabbed the towel Evans had used to dry off and put it down on the floor by the door. “Here you go.”

“Much appreciated.” Hemsworth replied, dropping his duffle bag. “Can I change in your bathroom?”

“It’s all yours” you said. “Do you need clothes or did you bring some dry ones?”

“I brought some. I also brought some fun. I’ll show you after I get out of my sopping clothes.” He answered, leaving his shoes by the door and stepping into the bathroom.

When the bathroom door clicked, you heard a knock on the door. “Tom, come in” you hollered.

Tom was wearing a long poncho with an umbrella. He had a large bag with him and when he got inside he kicked his shoes off, putting them by Hemsworth’s shoes. You grabbed his bag from him, putting it by the second bed you had just finished setting up. He closed the umbrella and pulled his poncho off, his black sweatpants and black hoodie bone dry.

“You make the other two look like heathens.” Scarlett laughed. “They showed up soaking wet and screaming.”

“He is a gentleman.” You gave him a smirk, causing his cheeks to blush ever so slightly.

“Is there even room for all 5 of us?” he cleared his throat and laughed.

“Absolutely” you ushered him towards you. “Evans and Hemsworth are sharing that bed. Scarlett has the couch. I just set up the extra bed right here, for you.”

“For us” he replied with a stern look. “I know you too well, darling” he smirked. “You’re going to offer to sleep on the floor by the couch and I won’t have any of it.”

“Tom, it’s fine. I have a sleeping bag and…” You tried to ensure him you’d be okay, but he interrupted you.

“If you try to sleep on this floor I will walk back to my freezing trailer so you can have the bed to yourself.” The stern look softened as he pulled you into a tight hug. “You know you don’t always have to be the one to make the sacrifice. Plus, I promise I don’t talk in my sleep or have crazy dreams. I’ve even been told I’m quite comfy to cuddle with.” He dropped his eyes to yours, smirking.

“Oh, if I must.” You teased him, kissing his cheek as Hemsworth finally came out of the bathroom. “Scarlett knows where the laundry bin is.” You pointed him towards the hamper full of wet clothes.

“Do I smell coffee?” Evans sat up in bed, looking towards you. “Come cuddle, buddy” he laughed opening his arms for Hemsworth who let all of his body weight drop on Evans. “Jesus Christ, you’re a brick.”

You laughed, pulling down mugs from the cabinets and making everyone coffee. “Coffee or Tea, Tom?” you looked over at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed you two would share.

“Tea, my sweet. But let me help you.” He stood and started grabbing sugars for everyone’s coffee, asking how many they normally added.

“There’s pasta in the crock-pot as well if anyone is hungry.” You announced.

“Food?” Hemsworth’s head shot up and he crawled off of Evans.

“God, men are so simple.” Scarlett laughed, grabbing the coffee you handed her.

“You are not wrong.” Evans added, asking if he could help with anything now that he wasn’t freezing to death.

“I think we’re good.” You replied, dishing up some pasta for Hemsworth and Evans and passing them off to the boys. “Scarlett?” you offered her food, as well.

“Actually, I’m craving something sweet.” She answered.

“I’ve prepared for this one” Tom answered, going to the large bag he brought with him. “It took me so long to get here because I walked to the catering room to grab some snacks. I’ve got a whole tub of cookie dough that probably needs to go in the refrigerator soon, a tub of sour sweets, and what looks like a large cherry pie.”

“Pass the cookie dough this way” Scarlett answered. “This man has his priorities straight”, she laughed.

After everyone had sat back on their beds, dug into their food, and warmed up with their coffee or tea, Hemsworth remembered his bag. “Since we are most likely going to be stuck in this trailer until tomorrow afternoon, I brought a different kind of treat.” He picked up his bag and started pulling out bottles of alcohol and putting them on the counter. “Anyone opposed?” he asked.

“What a G!” Evans laughed, crawling out of the bed to help Hemsworth make drinks. “What kind of mixers do you have, Y/n?”

“There’s some cans of soda, some energy drinks…there’s some juice…and then we’ve got coffee for that Bailey’s I see” you answered.

Tom was smirking next to you as the Chrises started making a make-shift bar out of what they had available to them.

“We’ve got to get this started with a bang” Hemsworth said, handing everyone two shots each. “The first one is to us having a great night reunited with our make-shift family.” He smiled at everyone and downed the first shot, everyone else following suit.

Evans spoke up after. “The second one goes to our incredible, gracious, and always prepared host. To Y/n!” He downed the second shot, everyone following his lead. Except for Tom.

You shivered as the second shot went down your throat and looked over at Tom who was still holding his full shot glass, sitting next to you on the bed. He had a small smile, giving you a look you couldn’t place. Quietly he spoke to you “I’d like to add a few things to his toast, but I think it may take a few more drinks to find the right words.” He downed the shot and took a sip of his tea to wash it down.

“Who wants what?” Evans asked, making everyone a strong drink.

For the first few drinks, everyone just talked and caught up. It had been a while since the group had been on a press run or a film set together.

“Y/n!” Evans spoke up.

“Yes, Cap?” you answered, starting to feel the alcohol course through you.

“Truth or Dare?” He smirked. His eyebrow raised like he was challenging you.

“Truth.” You answered, staring him down.

“Hmmm…Have you dated anyone working on any of these movies? Cast or crew?” He asked, finishing off his drink and standing to make another.

“I haven’t” you answered truthfully.

“Wait, let’s not do truth or dare, lets do truth or shot.” Scarlett suggested, wanting to get a few answers out of you and Tom.

“I like it.” Evans said, grabbing everyone’s shot glasses back and filling them so he could hand them out as needed.

“I answered, so I’m in the clear. Hemsworth has a higher alcohol tolerance than we do so I need him to catch up. Who is an actor in the MCU you hope you never have to work with again?” You asked, hearing Tom chuckle next to you.

“I can’t answer that!” he laughed, taking the shot Evans handed him.

“That’s the point.” You laughed.

He laughed, handing the empty shot glass back to Evans. “Fine, fine. Tom. In our last interview panel together, they kept asking you if you were seeing someone and you answered no. You then said that you were interested in someone, but that you hadn’t done anything about it. Who is she?”

“Oh no.” Tom laughed, feeling the alcohol a bit himself. “I think I need to take a shot. Are all of these going to be so hard?” He grabbed the shot that Evans passed off to him.

“I think you guys just need to not be pussies and answer the damn questions” Scarlett laughed, shooting you a look.

“Right?” Evans laughed, taking the empty shot glass from Tom.

Tom scooted a bit closer to you when he handed off his shot glass. “Okay, Evans. If you had to marry one of your on screen romantic co-stars, who would it be?”

“Oh, come on! It’s gotta be Scar Jo! The one and only.” Evans laughed, putting his hands over his heart and giving Scarlett a loving look. “We’ve been in movies together damn near my whole career.”

“We would annoy the hell out of each other.” Scarlett laughed.

“It’s true. We’re practically siblings. Okay, Y/n” Evans rubbed his hands together like he was plotting. “Favorite actor you’ve been able to work with ever.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a very specific question you want to ask, but instead you’re asking questions trying to fluster me?” you shot him a look, trying not to blush.

“Hey, I’m just playing the game.” Evans laughed, picking up a shot to let me know I didn’t have to answer.

“Keep your shot. I’ll answer this one. It’s definitely Mr. Mischief himself over here.” You pointed your thumb to your side at Tom, trying not to blush.

“No, there has to be someone cooler than me.” Tom blushed, hiding his glee by taking a sip of his tea.

You looked at him, summoning the strength of the drinks you’ve been throwing back. “You should give yourself more credit. You’re amazing.”

You stayed in the moment for a few seconds, just smiling at each other. “I think it’s your turn”, Tom said, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You blushed, realizing you had just been staring at him. Leaning into his side, you asked “Okay, Evans. Have you slept with any of your MCU co-stars?”

“Oh shit!” Scarlett laughed, standing up and handing Evans one of the shots.

“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed, downing the shot. “I’ll pick on someone else this time.” He filled up everyone’s drinks while thinking of his next question. “Okay, Scar. Who is the most attractive man in the current MCU?”

“Oooh, good question.” Scarlett thought about it, going through the movies outside of the Avengers. “I have a few different answers.”

“Explain.” Hemsworth replied.

“Well, There are a few people I find attractive for different reasons, I guess.” She answered.

“How about you share this list and we decide if you still need to drink for not picking one person?” You laughed.

“Well, Hemsworth is an amazing dad. Like, you look your happiest when you’re in the messiest, most chaotic situations with your kids. Most dads are the opposite. They’re trying to escape that.” Scarlett explained her first answer.

“Valid points made so far” Evans agreed, leaning against the counter.

“Hiddleston is the fucking epitome of a gentleman. You’re literally everything women want.” Scarlett turned towards tom, making him blush.

You quietly spoke “She’s not wrong” in Tom’s ear, feeling him pull you tighter to his side in response.

“You’re too kind”, Tom answered to her, downing the rest of his drink.

Scarlett looked to Evans. “I think I have to go with…Idris Elba.”

“I want to be mad that I didn’t make your list, but that man is truly a god.” Evans responded.

The game started to wind down as it got later into the night. Seeing everyone kind of calm down and get settled, you walked around making sure everyone had what they needed.

“Anyone want water so you don’t wake up hungover?” you laughed, pulling some water out of the fridge.

“Here!” “Please!” you handed water bottles out to everyone.

“I’m not setting an alarm for the morning. It’s super late and I doubt anyone is going to be back on the lot before dinner time anyways.” You said, grabbing you and Tom each a water bottle before turning off the main light.

You turned on the small light above your bed so you could sort out your sleeping arrangements. You grabbed your toiletries bag and pulled out a make-up wipe, trying to clean your face since you didn’t really get to do your nightly routine.

“Can I use one of those?” Tom asked, realizing he hadn’t been able to wash his face either.

“Come here” you said, scooting against Tom so you could run the damp cloth over his face. He watched your gentle movements, feeling you run the cool cloth across his skin.

“Thank you” he said, kissing the back of your hand before scooting back in the bed and laying down.

You put your bag back and drank some of your water before crawling fully into the bed and turning off the light. “Are you good?” you asked, turning to face Tom in the dark. You could feel his hand reach out and settle on your arm.

“I am” he answered, running his hand down your arm, to rest on your hip. “I want to finish your toast” he whispered, scooting his pillow closer to yours. “What Evans said was true, but you’re so much more, y/n. You’re beautiful and incredibly intelligent and there is not a single person I look forward to seeing more than you.”

“I think you’re drunk” you replied, knowing that if the light was on your face would be bright red.

“I am” Tom chuckled. “I still stand by what I said.”

You reached forward and ran your hand up Tom’s chest until you felt your fingers graze the side of his face. “I’m going to have to thank Hemsworth for getting you tipsy” you laughed, teasing Tom. You scooted closer to him, feeling him wrap his arm around your back and hold you against him.

“I couldn’t have waited much longer to tell you anyways” Tom replied. “I was just nervous you didn’t feel the same. We’ve been such good friends for so long…”

You interrupted him, capturing his lips in a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for years” you said, connecting your lips in a second kiss.

“Oh, thank god.” Tom said, a little louder than intended. “Can I call you mine?”

You laughed, trying to stay quiet. “Please, do.” You answered reconnecting your lips.

Tom rolled to hover over you, deepening the kiss.

“Fucking finally!” you heard Scarlett call out, making Tom collapse on top of you in laughter.

“Right?” Evans added. “It’s been ages.”

“Fair warning, I am telling this story at your wedding” Hemsworth said.

“I think our friends are happy for us” Tom said in a much quieter voice, flipping the two of you so that you were laying against his chest.

“I mean, I’m pretty happy for us” you replied, snuggling into his warm chest.

“Me too, love. Get some sleep” he said, running his hand up and down your back as he felt your breaths even out.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston Imagine #Tom Hiddleston Fic #Loki

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pitubea1910 · 4 years ago

Text

Ready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Featuring: Avengers

Word count: 5k

Warning: some swearing, alcohol, mention of sex, a bit of teasing.

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Request: -

Notes: -

Masterlist

A few months ago, you and nine other recruits received a phone call saying to be at the training facilities first time in the morning. Once you got there, you were told that you would be receiving extra training, long hours and double effort. Whenever you asked why, they just said it was classified.

After two months of training ten hours per day, seven days a week, being put through several trials and tests, you were called to the office of Maria Hill –the head of all the recruitment process-. To your surprise, she wasn’t alone when you got there: Nick Fury was there.

You had never met him in person, although you had heard many stories about him. And his presence was as intimidating as you imagined. Or even more. He had a deep voice that shook to your core, a way of talking that let you know he was someone not to mess with, he owned S.H.I.E.L.D and he knew it.

“Agent (Y/L/N)”, Hill started as soon as you took a seat after recovering from the surprise of finding Nick Fury in the room. “Let me introduce you to Nicholas Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Yeah, I know who… he is”, you said with a small smile. There was no one around the facility who didn’t know who this man was. Maria Hill smiled too.

“Nice to meet you, Agent (Y/L/N)”, Fury said. “I have been following your training for the last two months quite closely.”

Your felt your mouth go dry. He had been following your training?

“And I have to say it is quite impressive”, he added. He took a tablet from Hill’s desk and swiped the screen a couple of times. “When it comes to strategy there’s no one who can beat you, you’re strong, fast, your combat skills could be a match for Black Widow’s… definitely impressive.”

“Thank you, sir”, was all you could say. You knew you were good, but you never thought you would be good enough to hear it from Nick Fury himself. He was a legend.

“As you know, these last two months we have been testing you on a daily basis”, Hill said and you nodded. Of course you knew. You could feel it in every bone and muscle in your body. “What you don’t know is why.”

“And I guess you’re going to tell me?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

Fury put the tablet back on the desk without taking his eye off you. You would be lying if you said he didn’t make you nervous, but you had the feeling that looking away wouldn’t help you there, so you were determined to hold his eye. After a few minutes, you thought you could see a hint of smile on Fury’s lips, but you probably just imagined it.

“The Avengers have requested a new member for their team”, he simply said.

If you had been drinking something, you would have choked on it or spitted out for sure. Out of all the things you thought this meeting was about, the last thing you expected was something like this.

“The Avengers?” You asked. “As in… Captain America, Black Widow and Iron Man?”

“Are there any other Avengers that we don’t know of?” Fury asked with a teasing tone.

“Fair enough”, you mumbled.

“We chose 10 candidates and we have been putting you through tests and trials without telling you why”, Hill said now taking the tablet and showing you some graphics. “All of you started off with enthusiasm, showing the best results you had got since you got recruited. However, as the weeks passed, most of your colleagues’ performance started to deteriorate.”

“We had meetings with them”, Fury said. “We asked if there was something wrong, why this change when they had proven to be among the best of their class. They said that they were tired. That they didn’t know what was going on, what was the point of all this suffering.”

“I never got any meeting”, you said.

“Because your performance only got better”, Hill said, showing you a graphic with your name on it. “You have been the only one who, despite not having a purpose, a goal, not knowing what was going on, kept on working as hard as you did on the first day.”

“And that, Agent (Y/L/N)”, Fury said, “is exactly what we need. Someone who won’t fail, who won’t slow down, who will be there every day no matter what, with the same spirit as the first day. However, as much as we thought you are the perfect candidate, we are not the ones who have the final say.”

“Then?” You asked confused.

“We sent all of your files to The Avengers, with all the progress of the last two months. And they have made a decision. They want you, Agent (Y/L/N).”

A week later you packed all of your belongings in a suitcase and left the S.H.I.E.L.D HQ in a black SUV to move into The Avengers Headquarters in Upstate New York. Their welcome had been incredible. Since the very first moment you walked in the residential quarters of the huge compound, you were warmly welcomed by the team.

It took you a time to get used to your new life. You still had to train every day and soon you found out that it was a harder training than the one you did as a simple recruit. Obviously, they didn’t hold their punches. At first, you ended up at the infirmary most of the days, but eventually you started getting stronger and getting used to this new way of fighting. There was less theory and more instinct. And, soon enough, you started going on missions.

At first, they would be recon missions, nothing major. However, in a few months you proved yourself to be able to do more. You would never forget your first mission with Steve, Tony, Bucky and Natasha. It was the most exciting, exhausting and hard day of your life and, despite coming back injured, everyone kept on telling you how amazed they were by you, your work and your skills.

They took care of you, visited you every day until you got better, helped with your recovery and to get back on your feet in no time. You had found a family in them and it looked like they saw you as one of them now.

“You know what day is it tomorrow?” You asked when you walked into the kitchen.

You had just finished your training and had walked into the kitchen to have a smoothie. As usual, since you had the same training hours scheduled, Bucky was there as well.

Since the beginning, you had started training with Bucky as your mentor. You didn’t really fight against him, since he could knock you out without even trying, but he was there to observe and correct, give you advice, put more weight on your weights and push your limits.

When you first started training with him, he wouldn’t talk much. But, eventually, he started opening up and you gladly discovered that underneath all that sulking attitude was a really funny, easy going, teasing and loving kind of guy.

You spent so much time together that soon you found yourself looking around for him every time you walked into a room, sitting in front of him in every meal, next to him every time you would watch a movie, spending hours in his room just talking or playing videogames. You just couldn’t picture your life without him in it anymore.

“Saturday?” He said, throwing a bottle of water at you, which you caught without problem.

“Something else?” You asked, unscrewing the cap. Bucky thought for a moment and shook his head. “Really? I should be offended. A year ago, your life changed.”

“Did it?” He asked, a smirk forming on his lips. You narrowed your eyes and threw the cap of the bottle at him. He laughed and dodged it. “I know, I know. It will be a year since the most annoying person in the world walked through those doors with that lost puppy look on her face.”

“I wasn’t lost!” You exclaimed.

“So you’re annoying?” He teased.

“Not as much as you are”, you said and stuck your tongue out. “Maybe we should celebrate.”

“Why?”

“When was the last time someone put up with you for so long?” This time, he was the one narrowing his eyes at you, which made you laugh. “But seriously, it doesn’t have to be a party. But we could have a drink all together or something.”

“Ask Tony”, Bucky said. “He will organise anything in the next 45 minutes.”

“Good point”, you said nodding your head. “I’ll talk to him.”

You were about to walk out of the kitchen, fully intending to talk to Tony as soon as possible, when Bucky called your name. You turned around to find him walking over you.

“Yes?” You asked.

Once he was standing in front of you, he sighed and moved some hair that had flown out of your ponytail and put it behind your ear. He caressed your cheek and looked into your eyes, making your heart beat louder and faster. You took a deep breath, trying not to look down at his lips.

“A year ago, I met the most important person in my life”, he said. “She’s strong, funny, annoying as hell and incredibly oblivious. But I wouldn’t change her for anything.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek softly before winking an eye at you and walking out of the kitchen, leaving you flustered, confused and on the edge of fainting.

***

Just like Bucky had said, as soon as you said to Tony that you would like to have a little celebration, he took out his phone and started organising a little party. You made it clear that you didn’t want or need anything big, but once Tony started organising a party there was no way of knowing the size of it until you were in it.

“I thought you didn’t want anything big”, Bucky said when you stepped into the main living room of the residential quarters the following evening.

Looking around, you barely knew anyone. You had no idea how Tony had managed to pull this out in such short notice. There was people everywhere, food, alcohol music and banners everywhere saying ‘Happy Avengesary (Y/N)’. It was incredible.

“This is what happens when you leave Tony in charge”, Steve, who walked in after you two, said.

“I’m not complaining”, Natasha said with a huge smile as she looked around. “See you later guys.”

“Where is she going?” You asked, looking at her as she got lost in the crowd.

“She has seen that IT guy she likes”, Steve said with a chuckle.

“I say we make the best out of this and get a drink”, Sam said.

“And that’s the most intelligent idea I have heard so far”, you said and took Sam’s hand to follow him through the crowd.

The bartenders that Tony had hired knew exactly who you were and the reason you were having this celebration. So the moment they saw you, they made sure you had a drink in your hand without even asking for it. It looked like Tony had told them what you liked.

The next couple of hours went by in a blur. Despite not knowing most of the people in the party, it was obvious that they knew who you were and many kept on stopping you to congratulate you on the work you had been doing the past year or just to take a photo with you. Definitely, that was something you would never get used to: being a public figure.

When you finally managed to sit down on the couch, next to Bucky, you didn’t even know how many hands you had shaken, how many photos you had taken and how many hugs you had given. But your mind was buzzing.

“How you doing, superstar?” Bucky smiled when you let yourself fall on the couch.

“Exhausted”, you admitted.

“It will wear off, don’t worry”, Sam said, patting your shoulder. “Once they get used to you, they won’t pay much attention.”

“Unless you’re Captain America or Thor, of course”, Clint winked.

“Shut up”, Steve rolled his eyes.

“It took us an hour to get some milk from the grocery store”, Clint said. “An hour because people kept on asking Steve for photos and autographs.”

“One would think that after a century, no one would be impressed by Captain America right?” Sam laughed.

“It’s not Captain America”, you said. “It’s… you.”

“What?” Steve asked confused, which made you laugh.

“Are you really that oblivious?” Wanda laughed as well.

“You’re a specimen, man”, Sam winked playfully, making you all laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that”, Steve said as you could all see him blushing.

“Oh, trust me. It is”, you said. “Everyone has a crush on Captain America”, you added.

“Do you?” Bucky asked, his arm casually over the back of the couch and your shoulders.

“Don’t you?” You asked back with a laugh.

“I saw him putting newspaper in his shoes to look taller”, Bucky shrugged. “It’s kind of a turn off.”

“So that means that there is a turn on?” Clint asked wiggling his eyebrows.

“There’s always at least one turn on”, you smirked.

“Oh really?” Bucky smirked. “What turns you on, (Y/L/N)?”

“Right back at you, Barnes”, you said, looking at him with a playful smile.

“Okay, this just gave me an idea!” Sam said.

You forced yourself to look away from Bucky, whose eyes were burning through yours. You had felt that electricity running between you two many times before, but you had never felt the heat you felt at the moment. So you needed to focus on something else beside the warmth of his body next to yours.

“Please, enlighten us”, Natasha said.

“What about an old good game of Truth or Dare?” He suggested. You laughed out loud, just like Wanda and Natasha.

“Are we 16 now?” Steve said, although he didn’t look like he rejected the idea completely.

“Afraid of airing your dirty laundry, Rogers?” Clint asked.

“I have no dirty laundry to air”, the alluded said with an innocent smile.

“Yeah right”, Natasha laughed. “Okay, let’s do this”, she said.

“Seriously?” You asked.

“Why not?” Natasha shrugged. “It’s always fun to get to know each other in different ways”, she winked.

You sighed and shrugged. It looked like you didn’t have a choice. As soon as you all agreed, Sam asked a waiter to bring a couple of bottles of tequila, shot glasses for everyone and an empty bottle. In addition, Bucky he asked for a bottle of the Asgardian liquor Steve and Bucky used to drink in these situations.

“It’s no fun if two of us can’t get drunk”, he explained once they brought the small bottle and everything was settled.

“Fair enough”, you laughed. “Okay, who goes first?” You asked.

“You’re the honouree, so…” Sam said.

“Okay”, you laughed and spun the bottle that stopped pointing at Sam, who smiled widely at you. “Truth or dare?”

“Let’s start with a truth”, Sam said.

“Have you ever practised kissing in a mirror?” You smiled.

“First, that’s a lame question. Second… yes”, he admitted, making you all laugh. “I was 10, okay? And I was nervous about a potential first kiss”, he shrugged.

“That’s cute”, you admitted still laughing.

“Okay, here we go”, Sam spun the bottle and this time it landed on Bucky.

“Truth”, Bucky quickly said.

“Mmm…” Sam smirked after looking at you for a brief second. “Would you make out with someone in this group?”

Bucky looked at Sam like he wanted to kill him and you felt him tense up beside you. You looked up to him although his eyes were fixed on Sam, whose smiled only grew bigger.

“You can always drink. Although that will give us half an answer”, Sam shrugged.

“I would”, Bucky finally said. You raised both eyebrows and looked up again, surprised.

“With who?” You asked.

“That’s not part of the question, doll”, Bucky winked before spinning the bottle, which landed on Natasha. Yet, you didn’t stop thinking about it.

“Dare, of course”, she shrugged.

“I dare you to go to that IT guy and ask him out”, Bucky smiled.

“You know I don’t ask out”, Natasha said.

“Is Black Widow backing off a dare?” Clint smiled.

Natasha narrowed her eyes, her pride obviously taken the best of her. Immediately, she got up and you all looked at her while she walked up to the IT guy. It was a quick conversation and, by the end of it, the guy looked like was about to marry her while she came back with her face as red as her hair.

“I’ll get back at you, Barnes”, she said, spinning the bottle.

There were all kind of dares and questions. The more you drank, the juicier they got without even realising it. At some point, Steve was playing without his shirt –to the delight of many of the guests-, Clint was speaking only with the vowel E, Wanda was wearing Natasha’s clothes and viceversa and you were on your pyjamas.

“Okay, let’s go”, Natasha said when it was her turn to spin the bottle after reading out loud the last text she had sent –Rated X-. “Finally!” She said when it landed on Bucky. “Barnes?”

All along, every time it was Bucky’s turn, there had been numerous hints of him liking someone, someone he would sleep with, his crush, but no name had come out of his mouth. You didn’t even know Bucky liked someone, which was strange since you spent so much time together, and to say you were curious was a misunderstanding.

“Truth”, he said.

“Playing it safe, huh?” Natasha smiled.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Romanoff”, Bucky said, his fingers brushing your shoulder absently.

“Fine. Have it your way”, she said. “Is (Y/N) the one you’ve been talking about all along? The one you would make out with, sleep with, have a crush on?”

Bucky’s whole body tensed up, just like yours, with that question. It was obvious she had been saving it for quite a long time and it looked like everyone was waiting for someone to drop the bomb. They all looked at Bucky smiling a little, as if they knew something you ignored, waiting.

“Damn you, Natasha”, Bucky finally chuckled.

“Would you prefer a dare?” She smiled widely.

“I don’t trust your dares”, Bucky said.

“Then… answer or drink. Although… drinking would be an answer itself”, she innocently shrugged and winked an eye at him.

You saw Bucky biting his lower lip without looking at you, his eyes fixed on Nat, as he was deliberately trying not to look at you. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you swore you would explode if he didn’t say something soon.

“Yes”, he finally said, taking your breath away. “She is”

And he spun the bottle.

***

The game was finished in no time after that moment. Although you didn’t pay any attention to it anymore. All you could do was look at Bucky, waiting for him to look at you and explain what he had just said. However, all he did was smirking whenever he felt his eyes on you.

“Okay, come here”, he said once everyone had scattered around.

He took your hand and took you through the crowd. You didn’t know where he would take you until he scanned his finger print on the door that lead to Tony’s office. He let you walked in first and looked around to make sure no one was looking before closing the door.

“What was that?” You finally asked after a few moments.

“Do I really need to explain?” He smiled, getting closer to you which only made you nervous.

“I think? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You asked.

“When would I say anything? When I was kicking your ass during training?” He asked.

“You don’t kick my ass”, you said. “We never even fight against each other because you’re too afraid of me kicking your ass”, you added, crossing your arms.

“You’re so damn blind”, he laughed shaking his head. “I don’t fight you because I would never forgive myself if I ever hurt you. Even if it happened during training.”

You blinked a few times and looked away, trying so hard not to blush and failing completely. He was now so close that you could even feel his breath on you. It wasn’t the first time he was this close, but it was the first time it made you so nervous.

“That’s just another way of saying it”, you mumbled.

Bucky placed his index finger on your chin to make you look up at him and to his eyes before rubbing your cheek softly. His eyes moved down to your lips, just like yours to his, just in time to see him biting his bottom lip. Your breath got caught in your throat and an urgent need to kiss him overcame you.

“You drive me insane in every possible way, (Y/L/N)”, he said leaning in. You closed your eyes instinctively but his kiss never came. “But you’re not ready for it yet.”

You opened your eyes to see him slowly walking backwards, with a smirk on his face.

“What…? What are you doing?” You asked breathless.

“I could kiss you right now and make you realise that you feel the same way about me”, he said, a hand on the doorknob. “But I have decided that, if I have waited a year, I can wait a few more days and make you want it, drive you crazy just like you do with me.”

“Don’t walk away, James. Don’t you dare”, you said.

“See you later, doll”, he said.

Before you could even take a step forward, he opened the door and walked out the office, leaving you with your mouth open and your brain completely melted.

What the hell had just happened?

You had to take some time before you went back out to the party. Your heart had never beat like this. It felt like it would jump out of your chest at any given time and getting it back to ‘normal’ wasn’t easy.

When you finally made your way back out, you spotted Bucky at the bar, talking to Steve. When he saw you, his eyes were on you for a moment, while his lips formed a smug smirk, and then looked back at his friend to continue the conversation. All you wanted to do was go and punch him in that perfect face to kiss him afterwards. Or maybe kiss him first and punch later. You were confused.

The rest of the night you were completely unfocused. It felt like you couldn’t hold a single conversation, like you were zooming in and out all the time, looking around for Bucky and imagining his lips, hands, body on yours. In the end, you decided to leave the party earlier than expected. It wasn’t like anyone would notice, since most of the guests were too drunk to pay any more attention to you.

Once in your room and in your pyjamas –an oversize t-shirt and your underwear-, you laid on your bed and looked at the ceiling, thinking about what the hell had happened and trying to process how you felt about it.

It would be a huge lie to say that you didn’t have feelings for Bucky. You knew they had always been there, but you had always considered them platonic. He was one of the most attractive men you ever met and he was also kind, funny, witty, smart and incredibly thoughtful. You would have never thought he felt the same way about you. You thought all those times he flirted with you, it was just a game to him. Maybe you had been wrong.

You didn’t even know when you had fallen asleep, but when you opened your eyes, you heard the rain against the huge window of your room. You sighed and rubbed your eyes, your mind immediately racing as memories from last night flooded your head. Damn James Buchanan Barnes.

When you heard the buzzing of your phone, you sighed and picked it up from the bedside table to find a text message from the man himself.

“Training in 10 minutes”, the text said. He had to be kidding you. It was Sunday.

And did he really think he could just act like nothing?

“Sorry. As someone said to me last night: I’m not ready yet”, you texted back.

He read the text immediately, but it took him a little while to reply.

“If you’re not in the training room in 10 minutes, I’ll drag you there myself”, you shivered, knowing he fully intended to act on his threat. But you weren’t going to just do as he told you.

“Didn’t you say I drive you insane? Then good luck, babe”, you texted, smirking to yourself as you pictured the look on his face.

You knew what was going to happen. Maybe you were pushing him a bit, but you weren’t going to let him dictate what to do or when to get up. Especially after how flustered and frustrated he had left you the previous night.

Yes, you were dying to kiss him. That was all you could think about since last night. But, unless you were mistaken, he wanted that kiss as much as you did and you were going to get it, even if you had to drive him insane.

At first, you thought he would go to your room immediately, but it looked like he really waited those 10 minutes in case you showed up. Or maybe he was just waiting outside of your room, because exactly 11 minutes later, there was a knock on your room. You smiled to yourself and stretched out still in bed, but didn’t move.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you please tell him that I am not training today?” You said to the A.I.

“You know I can hear you, right?” You heard Bucky’s voice on the other side of the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you please ask Tony to make the rooms soundproof? That would be extremely useful for certain people”, you said.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, open (Y/N)’s door, please”, Bucky said.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Each room has its own personal protocols and can only be lifted with the permission of said owner”, the A.I said, which made you smile.

“Too bad, soldier”, you said.

“You know I can just kick him in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes, looking at the ceiling. You knew he could, but did you want to push him until that point? It could be fun, but you didn’t want to deal with Tony afterwards. You knew how much he hated when doors got kicked in –something that happened surprisingly often in the compound-.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, unlock the door, please”, you finally said.

The A.I. obeyed and unlocked the door. In a second, Bucky walked in and closed behind him. You looked at him from the bed, still not moving, and smiled. He was wearing his usual training gear –black sweatpants and a black t-shirt- and was looking at you with an eyebrow raised, waiting.

“Do you need anything?” You asked.

“You were supposed to be in the gym 5 minutes ago”, he said with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, well…” you stretched out again, making sure your t-shirt went up a few inches, enough to let him see your underwear and belly. “I’m kind of having a lazy day”, you said with a smile as you saw his eyes on your exposed skin.

“I know what you’re doing”, he said. You raised both eyebrows.

“And what is it?” You asked innocently.

“Pushing me”, he said.

“Don’t be so egocentric, Barnes”, you said. “Not everything is around you.”

“Oh really?” He said.

Slowly, he walked around the bed, taking a seat just next to you. You got nervous when he leaned in, placing one hand around you to support himself as he got closer. You looked at his lips and then his eyes, which hide the smile he forced himself not to show.

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about kissing me since last night”, he said in a low voice.

“I…” you mumbled, your eyes moving down to his lips, which finally curved up into a small smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you going to tell me that if I kissed you right now…” he said, almost brushing your lips with his, “you wouldn’t melt against me?”

You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to control your heart rate, which felt close to impossible. All about him was overwhelming and you had no idea how to manage his closeness. You just wanted to grab him by the neck and kiss him. However, it looked as if he was reading your mind. Just when you were about to move your hands, he moved his and pinned your wrists against the bed.

“Gym. 5 minutes”, he whispered so close that you thought you would die if he didn’t kiss you.

Then, he just let go, got up and walked to the door. You couldn’t believe this was the second time in less than twelve hours that he was going to leave you like this. You looked at the door to see him smirking before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, punching the mattress.

Five minutes later, you walked through the doors of the gym, still sulking and flustered. You had been quickly to put some leggings and a training top. If Bucky wasn’t going to give in or let you kiss him, you needed some other way to let your frustration out. Fighting.

“Maybe today we can try something different”, you said to Bucky, acting as if nothing had happened, as if your mind wasn’t full of imaged of him kissing your whole body.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Bucky asked while he adjusted the punching bag.

“Why don’t we fight?” You asked. Bucky laughed quietly and shook his head. “What?”

“Have you warmed up?” He asked.

“I’m warm enough, thank you” you said making him smile. Anyway, you started stretching since you didn’t want to pull any muscle or cause any injury. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You know I’m not going to fight you, doll”, he said, taking the bandages from the floor. “I could hurt you.”

Your eyes went to his hand as he started wrapping the bandages around it, wrapping it tightly. You had always loved watching that routine. There was something about the way he moved his hands, how he wrapped the bandages around them that was hypnotizing.

“You won’t”, you said, coming out of your little trance.

“How do you know it?” He asked.

“Because I trust you”, you shrugged. He looked at you for a moment and smiled.

“You just want an excuse to hit me because you’re frustrated”, he said.

“That’s just a bonus”, you shrugged and took the other pair of bandages from the floor when you finished stretching. “I really think it would be helpful to fight against an actual person and not just a bag.”

“You have fought against Natasha, Wanda, Peter, Scott and Clint many times”, he said.

You sighed while you wrapped the bandage around your left hand. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to change his mind. It wasn’t the first time you had this conversation and you understood his fear of hurting you, but you really wanted to punch him. Maybe if you caught him by surprise?

When you finished wrapping your hands, you looked at him. He was checking his own bandages and looked kind of focused on it. Without even taking a minute to consider your next move, you quickly took a step forward and threw your leg up to his stomach. To your surprise, your kick caught him completely off guard. Unfortunately, you weren’t strong enough to make him fall, but he took a few steps back with a hand against his stomach.

“What was that?” He asked with an amused smile.

“If you don’t want to fight me, okay”, you shrugged. “I’ll fight you.”

“Stop before you get hurt”, he said.

“Stop patronising me”, you said through gritted teeth.

Quickly, you launched against him, but he just took your arm before it came in contact with him and pushed you aside as if you were a mundane annoying fly. You groaned to yourself and turned to look at him. He looked at you smiling, which only infuriated you even more.

“It’s just facts, doll”, he shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes but decided to launch again. This time, you went for his face, but he grabbed your arm and twisted so your back was against his chest. You took a deep breath at the contact when his lips were on your cheek.

“Stop”, he whispered and nibbled your neck.

With a grunt, you stomped your heel against his feet. He hissed, which was enough for you to drive your elbow against his ribs and your fist against his nose when he leaned down breathless. You hooked your arms around his neck and used your weight to bring him down, straddling his waist and pinning his arms to the ground.

You knew how easily he could just turn the situation around, but maybe he didn’t expect to find himself like this so easily and all he did was looking at you with a smile playing on his lips.

“What are you going to do now, (Y/L/N)?” He asked.

If you were honest to yourself, you just wanted to tease him like he had teased you. But you also knew you weren’t strong enough, not after last night and that morning. You bite your lip and leaned down, wondering if this time he would finally give in. He didn’t move, but his eyes turned a bit darker as his eyes moved down to your lips.

“I should just leave you wanting it”, you whispered against his lips. He chuckled a little.

“You wouldn’t make it to the door”, he warned you. You knew it was true.

You let go of one of his hands, which quickly moved to your hair, moving it out of the way. You took a deep breath, enjoying the moment, before finally closing the distance between your lips.

The moment your lips touched, you let go of his other hand. Immediately, Bucky flipped you around to have you pinned under him and kiss you deeply. You wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to bring him impossibly close to you. A moan escaped his throat, making you smirk against his lips while your hands sneaked under his t-shirt and brushed his warm skin.

You wanted him. Badly. But, of course, he wasn’t going to give you everything in just a moment, let alone on the gym floor. Instead, he pulled away after a few minutes and looked at you.

“You always get your way, huh?” He whispered, gently brushing your nose with his, a gesture you never saw coming from the big and fiery Winter Soldier.

“I have my skills”, you smiled.

With a smile, Bucky got up and helped you up as well, although he didn’t move away from you. He caressed your cheek and kissed your forehead.

“What now?” You asked a bit nervous.

“Maybe we should start with breakfast?” He suggested.

You laughed nervously and nodded, letting him take your hand and lead you out of the gym while all you could think about was kissing him all over again. Maybe over breakfast.

421 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Sequel

Someone on Ao3 said something about showing Diavolo the tape Simeon and Lucifer made with you. Things spiraled down from there. Y'all know what kind of trash I'm all about being. A follow up to Press Play Pairing: Simeon x Diavolo x Reader Genre: PwP Smut Wordcount: ???? Tags: Smut, Porn without plot, Sub Dia, Voyeurism, size kink, dirty talk, sex toys, orgasm control, orgasm denial, pet play Summary: Simeon hatches a plan to include Diavolo in his next feature film.

There was a certain tension in the air you couldn't quite place. The pointed glances Diavolo made over his cup made you uneasy. It was made worse with how Simeon seemed blissfully unaware of just how heated the Demon Lord's gaze was whenever he glanced at the angel. You felt out of place, to say the least; but there was no getting out of a personal invitation to tea from Diavolo. "I do hope classes are going well for you." Diavolo broke the silence with mundane chit chat, though there was still the underlying feeling that he was hiding his true feelings from you. "Have you found things to do to alleviate your stress?"

Before you could speak, Simeon answered for you, his tone matched Diavolo's; chipper yet oddly restrained. "Oh yes, we've gotten into the habit of meeting up to go through a movie on Lucifer's watch list. It's quite extensive. Everyone benefits from a little stress relief at the end of the week, don't you think?" Diavolo laughed jovially, his expression no longer as tense when Simeon explained your weekly "relaxation" activities. "Oh absolutely!" Diavolo agreed. "Nothing like a good movie and some quality time with friends!" You heard his voice lilt just slightly at the end, an oddly fragile note to his overall happy-go-lucky attitude. Was that a… pout you saw forming at the corner of his mouth?

Simeon chuckled, taking a small sip of his tea, ignoring whatever signs the demon lord might have been dropping. “Yes, the quality of time spent with my dear friends has been nothing short of exquisite. It is such a shame that Lucifer is away on business this week and we will have to skip out on our regular meetup. I was so looking forward to the film this week too.”

“Oh, what was on the watch list this week?” Diavolo’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Was it something I’ve seen before?”

“Ah, we were… going to view a film we shot together.” Simeon’s smile was ironically innocent for what he had just said. The silence that followed from his statement said volumes and only added to the tension in the room.

“Oh.” Diavolo finally stuttered, blushing madly. “Lucifer has advised me of your ah… filmmaking endeavors, I hear you’re quite the director.” It was your turn to blush. Diavolo knew of what you did with Simeon and Lucifer. Lucifer told him about the film you had made. Even if it hadn’t been said out loud, you had thought the recording would have been a secret between the three of you. “Well. I uh... “ You stammered, trying to come up for a defense for yourself.

“Well, since you’ve already screened my latest work, what are your thoughts?” Simeon cut you off. The look in his eyes had changed, there was a glint of mischief and the heat in them matched Diavolo’s. “I’m always open for constructive criticism.” Diavolo looked to the side, to the ceiling, to the carpet below, anywhere but right in front of him where Simeon sat. He cleared his throat and loosened the collar on his top. “Well. If uh.. I had a say in it, I think I’d like to perhaps partake in the sequel you had planned?” his voice faltered and for once, you saw the vulnerability in his expression. Diavolo was lonely. Despite all he owned, he was feeling left out of gatherings. There was a hint of desperation in his voice as if he had put all his eggs into one basket, hoping to be included in this activity.

His expression was everything Simeon had hoped for. Diavolo had walked into every trap he and Lucifer set up for this very moment. The pleading expression and the puppy dog eyes he was giving Simeon were just a bonus. The angel’s face broke out in a wide grin while he regarded the redhead. “Well, since you asked so nicely, it’d be rude of me to not let you join us. It’d be a good surprise for Lucifer to come back to, yes?”

Diavolo’s face brightened instantly. He nearly leapt up from his seat in excitement. The tension in the room broke instantly once he heard he was to be included in your rendezvous for the week. “Oh how great! I’ll make sure my evening is free! Bar--”

Simeon silenced Diavolo with a simple gesture, holding his hand up to stop the demon prince from going too ahead of himself. “But first….” The pitch of Simeon’s voice dropped an octave. He stood up, sauntering to Diavolo and gazed deep into his eyes. “To land a role in any film, a proper audition is needed, yes?”

“Ye-yes…” Diavolo stuttered, looking down at the angel who was mere inches from his face, the smile told millions of secrets that he had only begun to unravel. In his flustered state, he didn’t even notice Simeon’s subtle movements until something was pressed into his hand. Diavolo didn’t need to look down to know what it was. The weight and the shape in his palm told him all he needed to know. Simeon retreated, satisfied once recognition flitted across Diavolo’s face. “Well, I’ll see you later tonight! I have to help tutor Luke a bit and prepare some snacks for the movie. See you!” He waved and made his way to the door. As he passed you, he slipped something into your hand.

“Prep him well, will you? He’ll need all the help he can get.”

You waited until after the door clicked shut to look down and have your suspicions confirmed. A little remote, no doubt one that was connected to the thing Diavolo had in his hand.

There was a long gap of silence, one which made the tension grow once again. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like hours and you sat there frozen in your seat. Who would make the first move? Who would speak first? Would Diavolo even consider submitting himself to such humiliation? Surely he wouldn’t? “Well…” He cleared his throat, his blush turning his cheeks as red as his hair. “Think you can help me with this?”

There was a certain charm to the way he was so sheepish and how he hesitated with his words. It made you want to take care of him, take charge and promise him everything would be all right in the end. “Of course.” You replied smoothly, pushing the shakiness out of your voice as you took control. Simeon did task you with ensuring his proper preparation, the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint the angel.

You strode over to where he was and slipped the control into your pocket for the time being. You gently guided him to bend over the arm of the chair he was just sitting in. “Relax.” you reassured. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

You kicked his legs apart, making sure his knees were bent to prevent him from passing out.Your hand caressed the swell of his ass and he shivered under your touch. The smallest traces of a moan left his lips and he quickly buried his face into the cushions to hide from the shame. You hadn’t even done anything to him and he was already trembling. “Are you excited?” You asked, tracing the cleft of his ass, trailing your finger up and down the seam of his pants while you waited for an answer. You noticed the crotch area was already rather tight and you couldn’t help but smirk, realizing how affected he was by the simple gesture of being invited to movie night.

“I… I’m a little nervous.” he admitted, stuttering. The normal confidence he had around others was all but gone as he submitted himself to your touches and your approval. “I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint.”

“You could never disappoint.” You cooed, reaching around to undo his pants. “Just remember to breathe.” Your hand dipped between his legs to grasp his half hard cock, earning you a loud gasp. His dick twitched in your hand as you felt just how large he was. Even without being fully erect, he was a girthy monster, your hand was barely able to circle around his shaft and your walls clenched at the thought of possibly taking him in later that night.

“There now, see? Just like that, be good and show me how excited you are for tonight.” You encouraged, stroking his length and watching his body language change from nervous to lustful. You slid his pants down his thighs to gain better access to his cock. Looking down and seeing his member hanging hot and heavy between his legs was such an enticing sight. His balls pulsed with need, nearly ready to release his load prematurely if you kept teasing him.

“My, my, you’re quite hard already, aren’t you? I know you’re going to be perfect for the audition tonight.” You praised, letting go of his cock to palm the smooth, soft swell of his ass. He whined, once again burying his face into the cushions, ashamed at how turned on he was from just the thought of later activities and your teasing touches.

Diavolo shivered, unable to process much outside of the fact that his precious exchange student was currently making him feel a certain way he couldn’t quite comprehend. It felt good to be the center of attention. It felt good to be under you, at your mercy and letting you take the lead. It only made him anticipate the activities to come. “I’ll… I’ll do my best to impress.” “Oh, I’m sure you will.” You smiled softly and plucked the plug from his hand. Even if Simeon and Lucifer had left you out of planning to get Diavolo involved with your movie nights, you were rather satisfied with the outcome to say the least. You assessed the plug and had to admire Simeon’s taste. It was slim, long and textured in a way you imagined would tease the demon prince for hours but not enough to make him cum. You traced Diavolo’s ass crack with the tip of the toy, paying close attention to his body language and memorizing the moment you had the demon prince himself bent over and at your beck and call. “Well now… this wouldn’t be very good to go in dry…” You mused before you sauntered around him and placed the toy at his lips. “Make sure it’s nice and wet, won’t you? You wouldn’t want to get hurt taking this all in, now would you?” He looked up at you, his golden eyes filled with a fair amount of lust in them before he dutifully took the toy into his mouth, obediently licking and sucking it until it was coated with his saliva. You could see how much it hurt his pride to do such a debauched thing based on how hard he was gripping the cushion below him, but his hard cock told you how much it also turned him on. He couldn’t even hold back a moan when the plug hit the back of his throat as you pushed it in further, ensuring he got every inch of it coated. “Good boy….” You praised, patting his hair softly and admiring how pretty he was whenever he blushed. Once you deemed it adequately lubed up, you went back to his waiting ass and pressed the toy into that tight hole of his. You heard him gasp at the sudden intrusion before his whole body seemed to relax and he let out a breathy groan. In no time, he was pressing himself against the toy, willing it to go deeper and deeper into him. He was eagerly moaning at this point, cum beaded at the tip of his cock as he was finally getting the attention he craved. “Aww look at that, it went all the way in so fast.” You praised, giving his ass a quick pat before pressing the toy into him as far as it would go. He rewarded you with a particularly lewd moan when the tip of the plug brushed against his prostate and made him see stars. “You were waiting for something like this, weren’t you?” “I… I maybe…” he mumbled, his words were muffled by the cushions. It was adorable. He was so eager to join in on the fun. You could tell just how lonely he was and how jealous he had been when he found out Lucifer was having these movie nights without him. It almost made you forgive Lucifer for showing him the movie you made. Almost. You giggled once everything was in place. Getting his pants back on was no easy feat considering how hard he was, but there were still a few more hours before you were supposed to meet back up with Simeon. Not to mention, he had quite the mountain of paperwork to do still. “There you go, all nice and tidy.” You announced once he wearily buckled his belt again. The bulge in his pants looked almost painful and you resisted the urge to reach out and fondle him. Instead, your hand went to your pocket and you clicked the power button. The reaction was almost instantaneous as Diavolo doubled over, collapsed onto his knees and his whole body trembled when the toy buzzed to life. His soft, breathy moans couldn’t cover up the hum of the toy in his pants and his embarrassment was only intensified by this fact. His cock throbbed in his pants, yearning for freedom once again, but he had duties to attend to even if his mind was far removed from them. Possibly the most arousing part was how attentive you were, how much care you showed him as you toyed with his body. That, was the most erotic part of it all. He had lost all power over you and now, you controlled him at the touch of a button. You watched writhe a bit longer, admiring how his body contorted as he tried to find more stimulation somehow without begging for it. After a while, you lowered the intensity of the toy until it just barely vibrated at regular intervals just enough to remind him who was in charge. “I’m sure you have so much work to do before we get to meet up with Simeon again.” You said, acting as if nothing was wrong at all. “I actually have a report I need to work on too. Do you mind if I stay here and ask you questions?” “N-no.. not at all.” Diavolo managed to stutter out. It took all his strength to stand back up, when he did manage to get back on his feet, he felt light headed, his mind was solely focused on pleasure and not anything else he had to get done. However, with you pulling out your books and settling down at the table to get to work, he made his way back on shaky legs to his desk where his mountain of documents awaited him. Diavolo yearned to touch himself while his lower half was hidden by his desk. It would have been perfect for him to just get a little bit of relief from the torment you had wrought up on him. However, he knew better than that. He knew if he could be patient, there would be a much greater reward than the immediate relief he sought.

It was just unfortunate that he would have to suffer for hours to get to his goal. And as he finally settled down to start going over contracts with neighboring lands, the toy inside of him hummed to life once again, sending jolts of pleasure through his body until he couldn’t see straight. Just as he felt like he was about to pass out from being denied the ability to cum, the vibrations stopped and he was left on edge. Breathlessly, he would glance over to you diligently working on your report, the perfect image of innocence before him even though he knew that in your palm, you held the incarnation of sin itself.

It would be a very long afternoon indeed for him.

Diavolo wasn’t wearing a leash, but he might as well have been with how eagerly he followed after you down the long hallways and to your usual meeting room where Simeon awaited you two. The promise of snacks wasn’t a lie as the scent of popcorn and cookies got stronger the closer you got to the room. You threw the door open and grinned widely when you arrived. “We’re here!” You announced with Diavolo in tow.

The lights were already dimmed and a rather familiar film was playing on the screen. You blushed madly when you were faced with the movie you had made earlier with Lucifer and Simeon. Diavolo seemed to be absolutely entranced with the images flashing across the screen. There was an unabashed adoration that flickered across his face and a yearning you couldn’t quite place in his expression while he watched the lewd acts play out.

“And you’re late.” Simeon chided, his gaze was hard and cold. “Not a very good start to the auditioning process, now is it?” His voice cut through whatever daydream Diavolo was in and the demon prince stood up straight in attention. Ah, he’s in one of those moods… You smiled sheepishly, ushering Diavolo in and shutting the door behind you. “I’m sorry, I got wrapped up in finishing my latest report so that the rest of the weekend is free.” You explained, hoping for some mercy; though you knew it likely wasn’t going to happen.

He ignored your excuses and busied himself with setting up the camera. Simeon took one long look at Diavolo, his expression was unamused and he almost seemed bored. The angel finished fidgeting with the camera before turning to Diavolo. “I have high expectations for you. I’m hoping for a rather riveting performance.” He had the smallest of smiles on his face before gesturing to the bed. “Why don’t you start by showing me how well you can undress yourself.” Simeon took a seat in the corner of the room, crossing his legs and leaned against the armrest of the chair. His gaze never left Diavolo as the prince sheepishly climbed onto bed and started to undo the layers he had on. You moved to help him but Simeon stopped you, beckoning you over to sit on his lap while Diavolo did his thing.

“Come now, the view from here is so much nicer, isn’t it?”

You nodded dumbly, not able to resist Simeon. The sound of your moans coming from the television had you remembering exactly what he had done for you just a few weeks prior and you squirmed in his lap.

“I hope you’re looking forward to this.” The angel murmured. “It’s not every day that we are graced with the presence of Lord Diavolo himself. We should make the most of this, yes.” He smiled sweetly, grasping your breasts while he trained your gaze back at Diavolo who was in nothing but his boxers. There was a noticeable wet spot at his crotch and his hard cock strained against the soiled fabric. Even in the dark, you could clearly see the outline of it and once again, imagining what it might be like to take him.

Just as Diavolo started to peel off his boxers, Simeon stopped him with a quick gesture of his hand. The redhead audibly whined. He was so close to being free. Yet, he knew better to disobey if he wanted to impress his audience. He couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at the screen. Watching you get fucked by both a demon and an angel had him wondering just how tight you would feel beside Simeon and he hoped to experience that later that night. He licked his lips, barely aware of Simeon getting up and getting a hank of rope from one of the drawers. It wasn’t until he felt the weight of the rope on his shoulder did he realize something was happening.

“Distracted are we?” Simeon teased, covering up the screen just as the film behind him reached its final climax. The sounds of shouting and moaning echoed in the room and Diavolo blushed at just the thought of what that scene looked like. However, he had more pressing concerns to worry about in front of him. Simeon looked like the very definition of sin in that skin tight get up he wore regularly. There was a reason why he didn’t enforce the school uniform rule on the angel. The eye candy was much too tempting for him to resist.

Simeon’s fingers were deft, gracefully working Diavolo’s arms behind him and securing them in place with intricate knots. “There we go. Now, you can focus much better, yes?” Diavolo nodded, his eyes now solely entranced and fixated on Simeon. “Yes… sir.” There was a genuine smile when Diavolo let the title slip from his lips. “Oh… I like how that sounds coming from you. Call me that again when you cum.” The angel swooped in, kissing the demon prince deeply, pushing him onto his back and settling between his legs. He beckoned you to come over as well to join them. Once you joined him between Diavolo’s legs, Simeon finally started to take off the last piece of clothing he had on.

“My, my. What a mess he made.” He commented, noting the large stain on the boxers before tossing it to the side. “Did you have fun this afternoon?” You nodded, holding up the remote to the toy still inside of the man below you and pressed the button to put the vibrator on the highest setting. “I sure did!” You giggled while Diavolo screamed, writhing from the stimulation. Simeon ignored him, his attention affixed to you and his eyes were filled with pride and adoration. He stroked your hair before kissing you as Diavolo watched helplessly. When the kiss broke, you were breathless and more than ready to entertain whatever whim Simeon had.

“Now… what shall I do with you... “ Simeon finally turned to Diavolo and casually stroked the man’s length, making him squirm even more. The buzzing in his ass slowed and eventually stopped, giving him some reprieve. “Aww, the batteries must have died.” Simeon pouted. “No matter, It’s time we gave our … pet a new toy, yes?” “Sounds like a plan.” you agreed, reaching between Diavolo’s legs to slowly pull the plug out while Simeon continued to tease his dripping cock. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come with me, Let’s go looking together.” He suggested, leaving Diavolo right at the edge of a climax. “The night is still young, my prince. There’s so much fun to be had.”

Diavolo was left in silence as Simeon led you away to a corner of the room he could not see from his place on the bed. HIs mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come and it only made his dick twitch in anticipation. A small puddle of cum pooled on his abdomen as his cock continued to leak and when Simeon came back to see the mess, he could only tsk at how poorly Diavolo was misbehaving. “My, my…” He chided, smearing the fluids across Diavolo’s abdomen. “This just won’t do.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment before selecting a cock ring and securing it around the base of his shaft. Diavolo hissed at the feeling of being so restricted after just having a taste of freedom. “There….” Simeon smiled, patting his member. “Now we can have all the fun we want without worrying that you’ll cum too soon.” His expression was so sweet, it almost made Diavolo sick, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on that fact. Part of playing with him meant you and Simeon dressed him up in the prettiest toys you had. Nipple clamps with bright red jewels were affixed to his chest. A delicate chain connected them and that was soon attached to the collar you placed around his neck. “A proper leash for a proper pet.” You explained, patting his cheek softly. His heart melted seeing you so content. Your touches sent him right into bliss. The pain at his chest felt negligible when he was able to bask in the attention he was getting. It had been so long since he had been pampered in such a way. He had missed those intimate touches, those longing looks. He craved being coddled and here you and Simeon were, giving everything he could dream of. Though he was barred from entering heaven, he wanted to believe that what he was experiencing in that very moment was akin to paradise. Diavolo struggled against his bindings, wanting to return the favor, he wanted to thank the two of you for showing him what it felt like to be adored. He whined, putting on the most impressive pout he could muster. “Please… I want to touch…” Simeon paused in the middle of undressing you and scoffed at the request. “A little early for begging, isn’t it?” He mused before completing his task. “Our pet’s a little talkative, why don’t you shut him up while I do a little disciplining?” You nodded, crawling up Diavolo’s side and straddled his face. You pat his head once more before lowering yourself over his lips. “Keep me entertained, why don’t you? I promise if you do a good job I’ll sit on that fat cock of yours.” You didn’t give him time to reply before grinding yourself down onto his face and letting his tongue do the work.

Simeon smirked, parting Diavolo’s legs so he could properly situate himself between them. He could spend hours watching you ride the prince’s face if only he didn’t have more important things to do. The angel waited for you to get a hold of the headboard to keep yourself stable while grinding down on Diavolo’s face in between breaths. From the sounds of your moans and your breathy sighs, it seemed as though the prince had quite the talented tongue. Simeon wondered briefly what it would feel like if he was in your position before he steered his focus back to what was right in front of him. Having prepped Diavolo earlier meant that the toy he had chosen slid in with little resistance. In fact, it was as if the thick dildo was being sucked into the prince’s hole with how easily it went in. “My, oh my….” Simeon mused, impressed with how quickly Diavolo seemed to adjust to taking the toy. “We really do have to teach you patience, don’t we?” Simeon started a sinfully slow pace, fucking Diavolo with the toy and simply taking the time to admire every reaction he was able to pull out of the man below him. His moans were muffled but there was no denying the pleasure he was getting out of this. It only made it more sweet to torment him and deny him his climax.

Time and time again, he would pull the toy almost all the way out before inching it back inside. Even with the cock ring on, Diavolo’s member throbbed and his seed dribbled from the tip. Simeon made sure to tease the rest of the demon’s body, tugging at the chains to the nipple clamps, placing soft kisses all along his thighs and pelvis but pointedly ignoring the aching cock that begged for attention. He loved seeing Diavolo’s muscles tighten anytime he was close to getting what he craved and only drove him to tease the man below him right to his breaking point.

He counted the times you came on top of Diavolo and decided that maybe after your second orgasm you could rest a while before he finally ramped the pace up. “Rest a bit and watch,” Simeon gently guided your tired body to where he sat, letting you sidle up against him in content while he continued his work. He worked in a methodical, almost calloused way when it came to controlling every aspect of Diavolo’s pleasure that evening. It was equal parts arousing, amazing and terrifying to you just what Simeon was capable of. Diavolo gasped for air once you were no longer on top of him. He stared at the ceiling, not sure what he should do next. The taste of your essence lingered on his lips. He was sure he could have continued until he either passed out from lack of oxygen or you did from overstimulation. Unfortunately, that scenario would only remain being a dream and he could only daydream about it. He was instantly snapped back to reality when Simeon roughly shoved the dildo that had only been teasing him all the way in without warning.

The prince let out a choked cry, his whole body tensing in the sudden roughness. He loved it, he loved every second of the sweet torture the two of you had come up with. He couldn’t tell when the pleasure stopped and the pain began, but he didn’t care. He wanted more of it, he craved the attention and would do anything to be on the receiving end of it. Glancing down between his legs, his heart skipped a beat when he saw how happy and content you were snuggled up against Simeon who was relentlessly fucking him. There was a tenderness in your expression that he wished you would direct his way.

“Look at you… So sensitive.” Simeon cooed, tugging at the chains attached to Diavolo’s sensitive nipples. “I’ll bet you could have just cum without me touching your cock at all. You’re that much of a needy slut,, aren’t you?” He chuckled, slamming the toy inside of the prince once again.

“Y.. Yes…” Diavolo sputtered arching into the thrust, wishing that the toy would go deeper, stretch him wider, do something to tip him over the edge. “I… I need…”

“You need?” Simeon repeated. “We’ll have to teach you some lessons, now. Good pets don’t need anything. They beg for what they want.”

“I… I ahhh~~” Diavolo’s brain short circuited when you had grabbed a nearby vibrator and pressed it against the tip of his cock. Whatever he wanted to say promptly flew out the window as he was thrown into a world of bliss. “I… I…” “Use your words.” You encouraged, turning the vibrator on higher. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He wanted to fuck. He wanted to be fucked. He wanted everything all at once but he couldn’t express it with how overloaded his senses were. “I … I want to…”

“Go on.”

“I want to fuck… I want to fuck you and cum… please. I want to cum so bad. I did good, right? You weren’t bored right? I can keep being good, just let me cum, please, please please. I’ll be the best slut you’ve ever seen.”

You looked up at Simeon, wondering if the angel approved of Diavolo’s groveling. His expression betrayed none of his emotions and he simply pressed the toy further into Diavolo’s ass, garnering a loud, appreciative moan from the man beneath him. “Very bold words… I hope you’re ready to live up to them…” He said quietly.

“Yes, yes. I promise I will! I’ll do so good. I’m a slut, a fuck toy for your entertainment. I’ll do anything for you. Please, just… I want to cum so bad. Can I please?”

“Hmmm” Simeon hummed softly, carefully considering Diavolo’s words. “Yes, you may.”

Diavolo gasped, his heart nearly beating out of his chest when he received permission. However, his excitement soon grew into dismay when Simeon produced a long length of ribbon to tie the vibrator against his cock. “Wh.. wait, you said I could cum…” He whined. “I said you may, I did not say when.” Simeon stated smoothly. He reinforced his statement by turning the toy onto its highest setting before he pulled you into his lap. The angel had your back towards him and he spread your thighs out to let Diavolo see just how drenched you were. Simeon reached between your legs and spread your lower lips, toying with your clit and making you moan in need. He wasn’t ready to reward his new pet just yet.

What he was ready for was making Diavolo watch you getting fucked. There wasn’t enough desperation yet, not enough hopeless need coming from the prince. “Is this what you want?” Simeon asked, grunting as he was balls deep inside of you. “Is this what you want to feel? How hot they are? How tight they’re going to be around your cock?” The pace he set was hard and fast. You had craved being filled after being eaten out so thoroughly before and Simeon’s cock was filling every craving you had. You ground your hips down to meet every one of his thrusts, loudly moaning every time his cock hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. It wouldn’t be long before you would be climaxing around him and he knew it. As soon as he felt your walls fluttering around him, he slowed his pace and let your racing heart calm down just enough to leave you hanging.

You whined squirming in Simeonn’s lap, hoping he’d keep going, but he stayed still and observed Diavolo’s expression instead. You followed his gaze and you were met with the most delightful visage of the debauched prince, blushing and desperate for attention. Tears were freely flowing from his eyes as he babbled incoherently, begging to experience the same thing he was witnessing.

“Please… sir, I want to cum” His voice cracked. “May I now please cum?” “What do you think? Do you think he’s deserved it?”

You pretended to ponder over your answer, dragging out Diavolo’s torture for a few moments more. “I think he’s done well enough to be rewarded.”

“Hmm, I think so too.” Simeon agreed.

He was loathed to leave the warmth of your pussy as he laid you down on the bed; but he was sure his cock would be satisfied soon enough in other ways. The toys were taken away, the cock ring removed and Simeon waited a moment for Diavolo to get his wits about him before offering your body up. “Well, go on. You’ve earned it.”

Even with his arms still bound behind him, he was able to roll onto his sides and bring himself onto his knees. It was rather impressive, to say the least how quickly he got between your legs and plunged himself into your waiting hole. Though Simeon’s cock had stretched you out earlier, nothing compared to how full you felt once Diavolo was sheathed within you. You wanted to savor the moment, but there was no time to think as he started to pound you with his cock.

It was your turn to be a blubbering mess. The fullness, the roughness, the wanton need that oozed out of his very being was intoxicating and you were lost in the pleasure of it all. “Oh, good boy.” you praised, reaching up and pulling on his hair to encourage him to keep going. “What a good slut you are.” Hearing your praise only made him go feral with need and he redoubled his efforts to gain more of your compliments. Diavolo was so lost in the moment, he nearly forgot Simeon was there until he felt something warm press up against his ass hole. His pace stuttered and he looked back in confusion. That bit of disobedience was met with a hard slap across his ass cheek. “No one said you could stop.” Simeon hissed, pressing himself into Diavolo.

“Prove to me how good of a slut you are and make us cum at the same time.” He demanded.

This was it. His final test. He put everything he had into turning himself into the perfect pet, the ideal fuck toy for the two of you. Diavolo resumed his pace inside of you, making his strokes long and hard while his ass clenched around Simeon’s cock to ensure the man behind him was enjoying the hot tightness there. His own pleasure didn’t matter to him anymore, it was pleasure in itself to serve the two of you.

Euphoria was reached when he was the best slut in your eyes.

Diavolo did as he was promised, making both you and Simeon climax at the same time. You were the first to crumble. Your inner walls clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper, milking him. All the while, Simeon’s thrusts became erratic as he reached his climax and spilled his seed deep into the demon prince. The moans coming from his lips were the most delightful symphony.

“Go on, show us how pretty you are when you cum.”

Finally having the permission to climax, Diavolo slammed himself into you, burying himself as deep as he could go before releasing his load into you. The hot spurts of his seed filled you and you swore you came again just from that feeling alone. The groan that came from the back of his throat sounded more like a possessive growl to you and the heat behind his golden eyes was practically palpable.

It took a long moment for the three of you to come down from the high of such an intense climax. Simeon was the first to recover. He carefully extracted himself from Diavolo and went about finding some towels to help clean up the worst of the mess you had all made. Along with that came the snacks he had baked earlier and water. Setting everything aside, he finally freed Diavolo’s arms and the demon prince visibly slouched in relief as his aching muscles finally got a chance to relax.

He wasn’t ready to leave the warm confines of your pussy just yet and shifted himself to cradle you against his chest while Simeon fed you cookies and made you sip some water. Diavolo’s fingers brushed your tousled hair and you stared at you with nothing but admiration in his eyes. “So, do you think I’d get a callback after that audition?”

Simeon chuckled softly, sliding back into bed with a bowl of popcorn and offered some water to the prince who gulped it down eagerly. “Absolutely. You’re the perfect fit for the role.”

#Shall we date Obey me #obey me!#Obey Me Diavolo #Obey Me Simeon #Simeon x Diavolo x reader #Obey me smut #obey me fanfiction #Hoo buddy I lost sanity writing this since I wanted to fit so much in here #unedited bc yolo #Read the tags you've been warned #Sub Diavolo #Dom Simeon #I'm a simple writer with simple wishes and that's just the hope and the prayer that y'all get wrecked by this fic

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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

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We say we're friends, we play pretend (1/2)

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N were best friends and a couple as teens, after their breakup they meet again 4 years later on the bootcamp of JATP and have to work together. Will something else happen or they are just friends?

Charlie must have imagined something like this could happen. Since Kenny discovered her 5 years ago, she has been a really close friend to the director, participating in some way or another in almost all his projects.

In front of him after years, Y/N Y/L, his childhood best friend and ex-girlfriend. The young actor is not going to admit that he saw every single one of her projects or how moved he was by her in each one of them, many times even thinking of maybe sending her a little message saying the incredible job she did.

But he never found the courage.

It’s weird to remember how he spent most of his life next to the woman, now one of the top youth artists with multiple musicals and movies on her hits list. They always had a strong bond, every single day together. Sleepovers, music classes, dancing classes, homework, parties, movie nights, hockey, illness days, pretty much everything. At the age of 15 they began a very sweet and innocent relationship that ended at 18 when Y/N moved to New York to work in her first leading role.

The break up was on good terms but painful, so painful that both preferred to lose contact completely than to have the other from time to time opening the wound again and again.

And there she was. As beautifil as ever, speaking happily with Kenny while Madison and Owen jump up and down, Jeremy smiles and Charlie looks like he wants to throw up.

“Y/N Y/L, my golden star. She is the official composer of the soundtrack, and she will be supporting you throughout the album process as well as helping Paul and me in other creative aspects, I know she is the same age as some of you but she has a lot of experience in this and all the necessary preparation so don't hesitate to get all the knowledge you can out of her."

Everyone introduces themselves until the guitarist is the only one left, luckily for him, he’s in voice rest these two weeks so he literally cannot speak.

They both look nervous but the moment their eyes meet their complicity comes out and both smile slightly.

“He’s Charlie, he is in voice rest but we are fans of yours. We cried yesterday watching your last musical, it was just brilliant." Owen lets out hardly breathing, Y/N turns with a smile to see the Canadian boy who wants to kill his friend and then commit suicide.

“Thank you! This is going to be such an interesting experience.” The singer murmurs as she winks at Charlie.

2 hours later they had both been avoiding each other, Y/N writing in a corner while the band and Kenny discuss costumes with Soyon, in which at least half an hour has been wasted trying to understand what Charlie is trying to say with the few words he writes with an apple pencil on his ipad in his horrible handwritting.

Y/N gets frustrated and goes to where they are, approaching behind Charlie's shoulder to see the iPad. She quickly identifies the two words, one so crossed out that it looks like a doodle, but years copying each other's homework pays off.

"He's trying to say that if Luke isn't going to wear bandanas, at least consider wearing beanies." The young woman says as she leans on the shoulder of who was her first love.

Charlie freezes at their proximity, blushing a little at the feeling of being close after so long. Luckily his castmates don't realize it because all their attention is on her.

“You are just good for everything huh? Even deciphering hieroglyphs." Owen comments, smiling at her and winking exaggeratedly to make her laugh.

Charlie can't help but feel insecure with the situation. It could be a friendly thing but If Owen really tries to flirt with her, he doesn't know how he would react. Is sad enough not having her in his life anymore, having her as his best friend's girlfriend would just be too painful.

Now, he knows he’s exaggerating, and a lot. But he has to do something about it. Better safe than sorry.

He stretches his neck to meet the eyes of his ex-girlfriend, who is now only inches away. She quickly gets flustered, but hides it pretty well. The problem is that he knows every gesture perfectly and sees through her mask.

“Wh- What, Gillespie?” She manages to say, Charlie can’t help a smile seeing the way she still reacts towards him.

When you know a person completely, every facet, every gesture, every peculiarity, speaking without words is as natural as breathing. And they had both forgotten how amazing it feels to have someone in your life who is this compatible and magnetic.

They start a conversation, she answers to who secretly still believes as her person while he continues making gestures and mimics that no one else understands, writing a word from time to time to make the talk flow better.

"I know. Hey, it's not my fault! So you excuse yourself with the ‘can't talk’ thing huh? how convenient. Yeah, Ok, I will. I said I will!" Her words are the only thing that they manage to get out of the conversation that the secret ex-couple is having, since no matter how much attention they pay to him, they have no idea how Y/N manages to decipher it.

"I have no idea what's going on but I'll take it as a miracle, I was just going to suggest ignoring Charlie these 2 weeks." Jeremy jokes, everyone nods their heads.

“I mean, it’s still a good option.” Madison replies.

The 14 days go by quickly, and with the former couple spending time together daily, rehearsing Charlie's guitar solos together, with Y/N translating his horrible scribbles, or sometimes simply being close to each other enjoying the company, absentmindedly placing their hand on the other's leg or their forehead on their shoulder for a few seconds during the breaks.

Basically the whole team has noticed the flirtatious smiles and the looks, but Charlie was the weakest rival of both and the one who could release some information about it, and without being able to speak they basically ran out of an informant, since the young singer didn’t let go a word about her unexpected chemistry with the guitarist except the typical ‘we are just good friends’.

But without a doubt the energies began to multiply on Monday when Charlie arrived with the green light to be able to speak and start singing in rehearsals. Madison couldn't attend the first few hours because she was at school, so Y/N was going to cover her so the boys could practice.

“The first on the list is Finally Free, the place where we are going to record it only gave us two weeks from now so it will have to be one of the priorities. For the first rehearsal just vibe with the song and we’ll discover where to go from there. Oh, and good luck keeping up with my golden star, you’ll need it."

Y/N starts the first verse on the keyboard, and gets up to sing the chorus in the center, trying to ignore Charlie and looking up at Jeremy. She hadn’t heard him sing for a couple of years, but the same butterflies appear in her stomach and she knows that she will melt if she looks into his eyes.

Unfortunately for her, Kenny doesn't have the same plan, and just before the second verse ends he tells her to walk over to Charlie, who immediately smiles and sings the pre-chorus with much more enthusiasm. The energy they radiate floods the place, both getting closer and closer. By the time the bridge arrives, their foreheads are practically against each other, their lips only an inch apart, and with a confidence and comfort while singing to each other that makes all those who suspected that there was something between them now practically sure.

Luckily there are only Jeremy, Kenny, Owen and Paul in the room, who decide to play a game of divide and conquer now that the snitch part of the equation can speak.

“Y/N, can you come with me for a moment? I have a new idea for ‘Wow’ and a fresh pair of eyes is just what I need.” Paul says, sacrificing himself for the greater good.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right back.” The singer takes the opportunity to leave this staring game with Charlie and quickly walks away from the guitarist, who winks at her in a flirting way in response.

The moment they walk out the door, everyone turns to see Charlie, who has no idea what they're up to.

“What?”

"After what just happened you just can't keep pretending nothing's happening. Man, that was more intense than the whole Troyella moments during all three movies." Kenny pretends to be offended for a second and then nods.

"I have never seen anything like this in all my years of career."

“Yeah dude it was electric.” Owen replies, smirking.

“She’s my person.” Charlie mumbles.

If he’s being honest with himself, deep down he always knew she was the only one for him. But that realization was freaking scary. What's next if the only person for you has already turned the page? gave up without a fight? what's left?

"What?" The three ask in unison, and Charles begins to sing like a bird.

“We grew up together and then we lost the way. Like in those romantic movies where just everyone knows they belong together except the childhood best friends and then they end up ruining their lives by being in denial.”

“From what I saw getting back on track shouldn't be too difficult, Charlie. I assure you that whatever you feel she feels it too. Her eyes don’t lie." Jeremy tries to reason with him.

“Leave your teen problems behind. You are old enough to decide what you want and find a way to make it work. But you have to stop pretending that nothing is happening first." Owen scolds his friend.

“Do you love her?” Jer asks.

“That answer is always going to be yes, I just could never stop loving her even If I tried. And I did.” He really did. The surprise he got when the second he had her close to him his heart began to beat like crazy and all he wanted was to hug her and fix everything. It was as if when seeing her eyes time hadn’t passed, as if only the day before they’d been goofing around together. That bond is so big that he doesn’t believe it’s possible to break.

“Then do something about it, bro! Go get your girl back!” Jeremy advises while Kenny smiles.

“Yeah man, it’s ‘Now or never’ like her song, and I guess ours too now? Since she wrote it for Sunset Curve? Well, anyway, it’s like our song says.” Owen exclaims excitedly.

“Ohhh, musical inspiration, let me try. ‘Get up, get out, relight that spark’.” Jeremy sings to Charlie.

“Jer, you are a genius. If you think about it wake up is actually a pretty good soundtrack song for this situation. ‘It's not what you lost, It's what you'll gain raising your voice in the rain’.”

They both keep singing the song until they reach the bridge, Charlie tries to look frustrated but a slight smile escapes his face.

They are right, he still hasn't lost this fight.

👻PART 2 RIGHT HERE

#jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #jatp fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp luke #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x reader

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years ago

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nobody does it like you do - act 6

The final part!! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion! Thank you so much to everyone who has reblogged/commented/shared - it has meant so much. Special thank you again to @morganofthewildfire I'd still be working away at this fic if it wasn't for you, I don't know I ever would have finished it off. Your comments and analysis helped me so much and made this fic better than I could have alone, I'm so grateful.

13k - masterlist - ao3

There are five weeks between the eventful wrap party and her first day shooting the Netflix miniseries in Antica. Five weeks for Aelin to sort her shit.

It’s ambitious, and probably unattainable, but she needs a goal.

She needs something to draw her mind away from Rifthold and the director she knows is no longer there.

She gives herself a week of self pity. A week of lying around her sparsely decorated and impersonal Orynth apartment dwelling and pointedly ignoring the headlines she knows have been released. Elide let her know only one picture was captured of her with tears in her eyes leaving the party. Only one and gods bless Elide she shut it down.

Aelin lies on her uncomfortable couch in well-worn pyjamas with unwashed hair and runs through the photos on her phone of her and Fenrys, her and Manon, and the group of them together on set doing whatever shit they used to do.

She spends more time than she should like that. She sits there until her coffee table is overflowing with takeaway wrappers and Aedion and Elide have stopped texting more than once a day. She’s awful for ignoring them but she’s still mortified.

She hasn’t been able to look Aedion in the eyes since he dropped her back at her apartment after their long flight home from Rifthold. He didn’t say much. After he managed to again get her out of the party with minimal press she had cried, curled up between Aedion and Lysandra in their bed, and he didn’t offer judgement or instruction.

He just held her, whispering words she can’t remember but appreciates anyway. Now she hasn’t replied to any of his texts.

She hasn’t texted Fenrys or Manon either. She doesn’t know what to say.

She knows Fenrys jumped immediately into another movie, an action movie she knows he’s been chomping at the bit to get training for, and Manon into the second series of her show that she’s probably too famous for now.

They’re busy. They’ll understand. At least that’s what she tells herself.

The worst thing she does in that week is pour over the photos she has of Rowan. She didn’t realise she had so many but her camera roll is full of silver and green.

There are photos of just him, looking like Rowan, tall and handsome and understatedly happy, smiling covert little smiles at Aelin behind the camera. He was used to her instructing him to pose by the end of filming, she loved snapping away as he did anything. Eating, sleeping, smiling, everything - if it was Rowan she wanted it captured.

Now every photo is a knife to the chest.

The ones of the two of them together are worse, they twist the knife, pain splicing through her until she can hardly breathe. There are pictures of their cheeks pressed together, eyes shining, some serious, some silly. In all of them Aelin can clearly see her own happiness.

She can’t stop looking at them even as tears swell in her eyes and her throat gets tight.

For one week.

Until it’s been seven days since her flight landed back in Orynth and she gets up off her couch and deletes them. She almost doesn’t, her thumb hovers over the button for a good minute before she presses down but then it’s done and they’re gone. She showers and changes her clothes, she throws away all the rubbish on her coffee table and makes a plan.

Filming the movie with all of them it was easy to feel better than she did before, surrounded by new and exciting things, new people who didn’t know her before or treat her differently because of it. It was easy to lose herself in who she was there and with them.

Now though, she’s back to real life and real life lasts for an uneventful three weeks.

She tries what she can, she reads, she runs, she bakes, she teaches herself how to knit. None of it is satisfying and it's hard to make it stick. It’s all boring and never quite captures her attention the way she hopes. Never captures her attention enough to tear it away from Rowan and Rifthold.

A week before she flies out to Antica it changes.

She stumbles upon the change, completely accidentally, and she doesn’t realise what she’s needed until it's right in front of her.

Her usual run route is obstructed by construction and so she takes a left where she usually takes a right, heading down into the west side of the city, the side she doesn’t often frequent.

She used to. She used to spend hours strolling the streets letting the warmth of the sun and Sam’s hand in hers settle into her skin as they observed the numerous bakeries and small boutiques. Thankfully the scenery appears to have changed since.

The chill breeze of the September Orynth air teases the loose strands of hair tickling her face as she comes to a stop outside the sleek shop front. The wooden panels are painted a dark, glossy black and the windows are polished so brightly they reflect what’s left of the sunlight.

Music of Mistward the sign reads in curved, white lettering.

She can see her reflection in the shop window, her cheeks flushed, hair unruly, her running gear nowhere near to what would be appropriate attire for the shop dripping in class but she can’t turn away.

A bell tinkles as she pushes through the door, her headphones gripped tight in her fist as the gentle jazz playing over the sound system greets her. She doesn’t like jazz, it’s not her thing, but along with the musk of wood in the air it’s soothing in welcoming her in.

She passes walls of guitars and violins until she reaches the instrument that caught her eye. It’s sleek, black lid propped open revealing the elegant strings, pulled tight in neat lines. The sharp contrast of the keys against each other, bright against the deep black of the case. Her fingers ghost over them, dying to press down.

She hasn’t played since those days in Rowan’s Doranelle home. She’s wanted to, longed to feel the cool keys under her fingertips and the flood of the music pouring out of her, but the cheap keyboard in her Orynth apartment wouldn’t do Rowan’s beautiful instrument justice.

Aelin would rather not play at all than attempt a cheap imitation of what she felt there.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice sounds behind her, low and raspy but cheerful all the same.

She turns, taking in the older man, his grey hair cut short and his classic shirt and slacks pressed crisp. She glances back to the piano before facing him fully.

“Stunning,” she breathes.

The man steps forwards and offers her his hand. She slips her hand into his and he pumps firmly as he introduces himself.

“Emrys,” he says. “Welcome to Music of Mistward.”

“Aelin,” she says, surprised to hear her voice thick.

“Great to meet you, Aelin,” Emrys says with an ancient smile. He nods towards the piano. “Do you play?”

“No,” she says and Emrys’ smile flickers. “Yes, I mean I used to. I want to,” is what she settles on.

He nods, satisfied, before taking a step closer to the piano. He runs a hand over the top, almost reverently and smiles to himself.

“Antique,” he starts, “almost one hundred years old but well loved. I acquired it recently - here we deal mostly in antique instruments, it’s a passion for both myself and my husband. The previous owner only sold it to me when she inherited it and didn’t know how to play, she wanted it to find a good home.”

He shares a smile with her as if she’s in on the joke but her breathing still hasn’t settled.

“Satin Ebony finish,” Emrys continues, “eighty-eight keys, all original but preserved to the highest quality. Accompanying bench, cut with refreshed velvet. I don’t know in all my years I’ve seen such a fine instrument as old as this.”

Aelin glances back to the piano, it’s big, it won’t fit in her apartment in Orynth but she doesn’t care. She can… adjust. She hasn’t felt a pull like this in a while, she doesn’t want to deny it when she does.

“How much?” she almost demands from the man in front of her.

He appraises her and she knows what he sees. Her bedraggled state and the tension through her shoulders doesn’t give the impression of someone with this much cash to throw around. She abruptly ignores that the way she probably can afford this is because of Rowan’s movie.

When he doesn’t speak she repeats herself, more firmly. “How much?”

“Our price includes delivery and tuning on arrival.” He seems apprehensive of telling her the truth. Aelin waits.

When he finally reveals the figure Aelin blinks. And then she extends her hand. “I’ll take it.”

To his credit Emrys just nods, shaking her hand. “You don’t want to at least play it first?”

Aelin feels the smirk she hasn’t worn in a while creep onto her face. “Is there a risk you’re pulling a fast one on me?”

Emrys returns her smile, a playful glint in his eye. “Not a chance, Aelin. Please follow me to the register where I can take your details.”

Aelin almost stumbles. Almost, but then recovers.

“Any chance I can pay a deposit and then let you know where you’ll be delivering sometime soon?”

Emrys winks knowingly. “Absolutely.”

She follows him to the counter, signs away part of a disgustingly large total of money but leaves with a sense of satisfaction. It’s an accomplishment, a step for purely selfish reasons.

The first thing she does when she leaves the shop is call Elide.

Aelin meets her new therapist two days before she flies out to Antica.

She hasn’t called her old one in months and thinks that’s probably a sign. And she’s all about changes at the moment.

She isn’t shooting in Antica for too long, only a couple of months until she’s back in Orynth and then back to Rifthhold for press. Her stomach drops everytime the thought wanders into her head.

She’s excited to be back in Rifthold, but the company is daunting.

Fenrys and Manon will easily be pissed at her disappearance. She knows Manon will play aloof but she also knows she’ll be upset, Fenrys too. Aelin didn’t mean to hurt them, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the Earth, and she knows she’s let them down but Fenrys and Manon remind her of Rowan. She couldn’t trust the conversation not to eventually steer towards him and Aelin isn’t ready for that.

Their break-up feels weirdly anticlimactic. After everything they built to, Aelin just dipped.

She knows it seems that way to Rowan at least. She hasn’t texted him, or rang him or anything since the party. She’s wanted to, wanted more than anything to hear his voice as she cried, but it’s not fair to him to drag it out and she knows that. She knew when she drew the line she had to stay on her side of it, no matter how much it hurt.

She had cried until her head pounded and her throat was raw. She cried until her eyes itched with no tears left to fall, until all that came out of her was hoarse screeches as she ached to hear him call her Fireheart one last time.

But no one needs to know that, she had kept it as hidden as she could.

She definitely didn’t need any more paparazzi pictures of her with red-rimmed eyes looking downtrodden. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rowan, or worse her mother, seeing them.

She knows Fenrys and Manon; Aedion, Lysandra and Elide would see through her flimsy excuses and so it was easier to stay quiet.

She’s not thinking about facing them yet. She supposes that will be something that likely comes up with this new therapist, but so far on her own, she’s choosing avoidance.

She gets Maeve’s number from Dorian, and she comes highly recommended by a number of Dorian’s other high profile clients. She’s well-versed in non-disclosure agreements, secret sessions and back street exits; she feels like the perfect fit for Aelin.

Unofficially, Dorian lets her know Maeve takes no shit, and that’s also just what Aelin needs.

They agree to online sessions while she’s in Antica, but Maeve recommended an initial meeting and Aelin is open to all of her suggestions.

Their first hour is not directly her most life changing but it’s a start.

“Welcome, Aelin,” Maeve says, sweeping an arm out towards the firm-looking, orange couch in the centre of the room.

Aelin takes a seat, mutters her thanks and glances around the room.

The room should feel cold with the exposed brick and minimalistic decor, the only furniture being the couch Aelin perches on, the almost regal armchair Maeve reclines in and a lamp, but it doesn’t and she gets comfortable tucking her feet beneath her thighs and leaning against the arm.

“So,” Maeve begins, surveying her in the way only a true professional can. “Let’s get started.”

Aelin feels bare beneath her gaze, and like everything about Maeve and her practise it should be unnerving but she just blinks against the scrutiny.

“Why are you here today? You could start with sharing why you have made this appointment.”

And isn’t that the million gold-mark question?

Aelin takes a deep breath through her nose and raises her chin.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” she admits. “Or maybe I just want to know I’ve actually moved forwards.”

Maeve’s expression stays calm, but Aelin knows she’d be smirking if she could. She’s well aware of how therapy works but even so, speaking her thoughts aloud can help to verify them in her own mind.

Aelin hopes so at least.

Their hour is over quickly and Aelin is resolved that Maeve is a good fit, reassured in Dorian’s claim that the woman takes no shit. Her all-knowing assessment of Aelin should have been unsettling but the frank dissection is what she needs.

Online therapy, especially fitting it around shooting might be a challenge but it’s for the best. As much as she values her independence and standing on her own two feet, Aelin is big enough to admit that facing her mother again may require some professional guidance. Seeing Rowan too, but again, she’s not thinking about that yet.

Antica is hot and Aelin is sweaty within seconds of stepping out of the air-conditioned luxury of the airport. That feeling lasts the entire time she’s there, disrupting the otherwise enjoyable time she has shooting the series.

Her new co-stars are fine, they invite her out with them and make her smile but she can’t help as though a part of her is always comparing them to who and what she left in Rifthold. Aelin tries her best to enjoy her time there with them, she hosts dinner parties and invites them to a game of Aedion’s but nothing quite hits the same as her time spent on The Crescent City.

She rationalises it to Maeve, that The Crescent City was a big turning point in her life and that it has nothing to do with Rowan, Fenrys or Manon, but she’s not sure she even believes it herself.

She spends the rest of her time in Antica trying to convince herself, and Maeve, that she’s moving past it. That she’s moving forwards or else she’ll move backwards. She’s not sure how much of it is futile.

The Crescent City is done, whether she likes it or not, and she can’t deny it changed her in ways she didn’t expect. It’s a hard pill to swallow that maybe it changed her beyond return to how she was before. She also can’t quite figure out whether she thinks that’s a bad thing or not.

They have a dinner for the core cast and crew, including Rowan, once they’re all back in Rifthold for the beginning of the press cycle. They have one night to reacquaint before they’re shoved into the whirlwind that is interviews, photoshoots and promotion.

She’s seen the trailer already and it’s just as she expected but more. It’s dark and dreary with flashes of brightness from herself and Fenrys and she’d want to watch it if she chanced a viewing as a member of the public.

What is surreal, is to see herself in a polished version of the film they were creating. Or at least a part of it.

She said each of the lines, rehearsed them over and over until they fell off her tongue without thought, but she still doesn’t recognise the girl in the trailer. A droplet of pride slips down her chest at the realisation that it’s not Aelin in the trailer but Feyre. She knows she’s good, has known it all along, but the realisation and reaffirmation is ecstasy better than any drug.

She hovers outside the restaurant, watching through the window, needing a couple more seconds before she submits herself to the assault of them all again. She still hasn’t replied to either Fenrys or Manon and the thought presses on her like lead but it’s too late to change that now.

If she’s honest she’s concerning herself with Fenrys and Manon in the hopes of distracting herself from the fact that she’s seconds away from Rowan. Seconds away from him in the flesh, his solid body in front of her that she had learned almost as well as her own.

Her palms are clammy and she wipes them against the fabric of her trousers. The upcoming interviews and photoshoots will all be styled for her and so she’s relishing in her last moments for a while of truly dressing like Aelin.

She takes a step towards the restaurant door, the tip of her trainer bumping the wood when a voice sounds behind her.

“Well, hello there, Stranger.”

Aelin braces herself, hand paused outstretched where it had been reaching for the door.

She turns, biting her lip as she faces Fenrys. He looks the same as he did, skin still golden, eyes still dancing with mischief, but his golden curls are trimmed shorter than the last time she saw him. His expression is carefully blank.

“I- Hi… um,” she stumbles over the words. “I’ve missed you.”

Fenrys breaks almost immediately. “Oh thank the fucking gods.”

He surges forwards and wraps her into a tight hug. Aelin clings to him, fighting the tears in her eyes as she buries her face in his chest. She’s gone far too long without this, without him, and it’s all her own fault.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Fenrys asks. “Oh wait, no you don’t. I’m assuming your phone broke, or was stolen or something since you never replied to any of my texts letting you know.”

Aelin knows her cheeks are stained pink. “I’m sorry,” she admits.

“I know.” His voice softens, losing the teasing edge as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

He pauses before he speaks again, his eyes running over her face. “You could have texted me anytime, you know. Manon too. I know you might forget or try to convince yourself otherwise, but we are your friends. You could have called us about literally anything.”

Aelin feels like she could cry. She’s not sure that she isn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, especially not related to the movie,” or Rowan he doesn’t say but Aelin hears it. “We just wanted to hear your stupid voice.”

Aelin pouts. “My voice isn’t stupid.”

She pokes her tongue out as he rolls his eyes, easily falling back into the dynamic they had shaped a few months ago.

“Not what I meant,” he says before pausing, taking her in as she stands in front of him. “You can’t lose us that easily, you know. We’re like rats or fleas or something. Hard to get rid of.”

“Nice,” she comments, but her chest is tight at his words.

He smiles at her before adding, “and you had fucking better text me back.”

Aelin laughs through the sniffles he’s kindly ignoring. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and finds his contact. Hi she sends and feels his phone buzz against her.

“Much better,” he says and releases her from his arms. “Now, are you ready for a night of the finest dining all on the studio credit card?”

Aelin laughs again. “Lead the way.”

He shoots her a wink and waltzes ahead to hold the door open for her.

Fenrys’ presence shouldn’t reassure her the way it does, especially after the way she has treated him but she clings to him anyway. He’s her buffer for now, a crutch for tonight and tonight only. Once tonight is over and tomorrow begins she and Rowan can be professional, they managed it for months during filming and this should be no different.

Rowan still looks the way he did the night she broke his heart.

His silver hair falls elegantly over his forehead as he bends his head to talk to Manon, the pair of them are engrossed in a conversation as she and Fenrys walk over, not spotting them yet. She loves his hair, loves the thick silver waves and the way they feel between her fingers. She loves the way any attempt he makes to arrange the thick strands is never quite able to tame the beast. She loves the shirt he has on, with the sleeves rolled up exposing inches of tanned skin and dark ink, the same worn green cotton she wore numerous times around his living room all those months ago. She can still remember the feel of it against her bare skin.

His smile is the same, his green eyes crinkling as his lips barely part as he does his best to hold it back.

His smile is the same until he spots her.

He catches sight of her when she reaches the table and his smile drops, the shutters closing over his expression so fast she wouldn’t know he knew how to smile had she not just seen it.

It tears her chest in two and any attempt at a smile on her part is futile. It’s all she can do to make it to her seat without stumbling and she’s sure she misses any other greetings she gets as she slumps onto the chair opposite Manon. She absently notes Fenrys dropping in at her side.

She can’t look away from Rowan, her eyes scanning to try and find anything that distinguishes him from the man she loved all those months ago. She finds nothing. He’s still Rowan and Aelin still… fuck.

He recovers before she does, ever the collected courtier, clearing his throat and nodding.

“Aelin,” he says and she adores the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Hi Rowan,” she manages and hears how weak she sounds. Rowan hears it too. She can tell from the purse of his lips and the tension in the hand he rests along the back of Manon’s chair.

Aelin allows her eyes to drift to Manon and she finally catches the thunderous expression the younger girl wears.

“Hi,” she whispers and Manon blinks.

“Hi?” Manon repeats incredulously.

Aelin is fucked.

“Five months and I get a hi?”

It’s loud and a few heads turn their way. It’s simultaneously mortifying and everything Aelin deserves.

“I’m sorry,” she says plainly.

She could lie, make up some useless excuses but in the end there’s nothing else but the truth and if Manon wants her to grovel she will, she’s just not sure this is the time or place.

Fenrys shares her thoughts. “Later, Manon,” he says, gently.

Rowan’s eyes stay firmly glued to the tablecloth as Manon frowns, seemingly unwilling to let it go.

After a few seconds, seconds Aelin spends waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her, Manon nods. She nods and turns to Fenrys, demanding to know what he’s ordering. And just like that Aelin has a moment to catch her breath.

She knew this dinner wouldn’t be easy, knew she’d be walking into the lion's den of her own making, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard. Hadn’t expected seeing Rowan to feel like a slap, hadn’t expected Manon’s hurt to scrape across her skin leaving her raw.

She tries not to think she deserves it, Maeve would only raise a brow as if to say we’ve been over this. The thought is sobering, and she manages to lift her head.

It is what it is, what’s done is done and she can only apologise and move forwards.

As much as she tries to resist, Aelin finds herself watching Rowan throughout the night. It’s scary how familiar he feels, he should feel like a stranger, but he feels like she knows him too well. He laughs when she expects, rolls his eyes when she predicts. He orders what she thought he would and he sips away at an orange juice the way he did the first dinner they all had together.

Aelin already feels so different than she did the last time she was in Rifthold and he seems unchanged.

She observes for most of the night, feeling drained despite her minimal contributions to the conversations. She speaks when spoken to and actively avoids speaking when Rowan does, she definitely doesn’t respond to anything he says even though she wants to at least twice and wants to laugh a couple more.

She makes it through and clings to Fenrys again as they all leave, linking her arm through his as they leave the restaurant. He knows what she’s doing but graciously guides her out of the building. Once on the pavement outside the restaurant he pauses and turns to her.

“What hotel are you staying in while you’re here?”

The rest of the group are milling about, calling taxis and bidding their farewells. Aelin doesn’t know how she’s getting back yet, she’s assuming she’ll split a ride with someone.

“Um, the Glass Castle, I think,” she says, desperately trying to recall the name of the hotel she dumped her bags in a few hours earlier.

“Boo,” Fenrys laughs, pointing his thumb down. “They’ve got me in the Torre Cesme. Think I’m ages away from you.”

Aelin laughs, disappointed but ready to order her own taxi back when a voice she didn’t expect sounds.

“I’ve just ordered a cab to the Glass Castle, I’m staying there too. You can jump in if you want.”

Rowan.

She shoots Fenrys a panicked look but his expression is pure glee.

“That would be great thanks, Boss,” Fenrys says, shrugging his arm out of hers and nudging her towards Rowan.

“No problem, Boyo.” Rowan offers Fenrys a dark grin at the nickname and the sight of it stills her. It’s new, he used to roll his eyes whenever Fenrys would drop it into conversation, but now Rowan’s playing along. And the grin, the curl of the lips and the narrowing of the eyes, it’s sexy as fuck.

It’s only taken one night and she’s back in the danger zone. She doesn’t want to be, hell, she wants him to take her back to his hotel room and peel off her clothes but this is Rowan. She’s spent the last few months trying to get over him, falling into bed with him the first night she sees him again would not likely be defined as progress.

He’s also not likely to want that after what she did.

“You don’t have to,” she says. The first direct thing she’s said to him since their greeting.

“I know.” A slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “But we’re going to the same place, it wouldn’t seem logical to take different cars.”

Logic. That’s all it is.

“Right.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so awkward with him, not even at the start. “Thank you,” she says, following him to the car.

Fenrys shoots her a grin as he slips into his own taxi. Traitor.

Rowan holds the door open for her and slips in behind her. She tries not to think anything of the fact he could have easily taken the front seat.

The ride is silent apart from the easy chit chat he makes with the driver, another thing she’s not sure she noticed him do before, and she stares out the window as the city passes by. The streets of Rifthold are not her home but she feels a brightness as she glances down the curving roads, spotting groups of people milling about enjoying the night.

She knows the first call she made to Elide in weeks was the right call. Elide is the only person she’d trust with her bank account and access to real estate listings. The link to the flat her friend had sent over has stayed open in her browser since she got it.

It’s modern with classic twists, situated in a recently renovated old warehouse with miles of exposed brick and rustic wooden panelling. She loves the master bedroom the most, with its adjoining en suite with a huge bathtub she can picture herself soaking in. She has a viewing booked in two days but doubts she’ll even need it.

It’s not long before the taxi pulls up outside the hotel and she follows Rowan through the glass doors. He presses the button for the lifts and Aelin shifts in the awkward silence.

Awkward is not something she’s used to with Rowan. Or it wasn’t before.

The doors slide open and again she follows him inside.

He pauses with a hand hovering over the buttons for the floors. “Which floor?”

“Nine.”

Aelin hates these one word exchanges compared to the hours they used to share talking about everything and nothing. She can’t believe this is the man she was so vulnerable with.

His short huff of laughter drags her gaze to his face.

“What?”

“Makes sense,” is what he says, shaking his head and pressing only the button for the ninth floor.

The ride takes seconds, a minute at most, filled with the silence between them.

When the doors open to the ninth floor she steps out, determined not to follow him again, and she feels him follow her. Even now she’s so aware of his powerful body and the way he moves it. She shouldn’t be so attracted to the power emanating from him, from the breadth of his shoulders to the sureness of his steps. She wants him, doesn’t think she ever stopped, except now he’s the forbidden fruit. Forbidden only by her own actions.

She reaches her door, room 905, but pauses with her key tucked in her hand.

“Thanks for letting me share your cab,” she says, finding herself desperate not to say goodbye yet. “I can transfer you for half.”

That finally, finally, cracks a whisper of a smile but she’s not sure she enjoys his laughter if it’s at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

That should be the end of it, she should open her door and shut it behind her, they have a few weeks ahead of them that will be hard enough without any complications.

She left him and he seems gracious enough to have mostly moved past it.

“It was good to see you, Aelin,” he says, seemingly unwilling to let the night end as well. She doesn’t let the seed of hope sprout because what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Aelin smiles, leaning back against her door.

Rowan continues, “even if I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go.”

Her attention is spiked. “What do you mean?”

She can’t lie, a part of her expects him to back down at the edge to her voice. He doesn’t.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

She blinks, giving herself a second to process.

Maybe this isn’t the same Rowan from all those months ago. That night he let her walk away from him, gods know she needed it, but a dark little part of her had wanted him to fight her harder. Fight harder for her. When he hadn’t she’d taken it as her sign.

She knows the expectation was toxic, if he had fought her it would have only pissed her off, but she wishes she’d had someone to tell her it was the wrong choice. It would have helped to hear in the moment, rather than be faced with Rowan months down the line that she wants and can’t have.

The Rowan in front of her, the third Rowan she’s known, stares her down. His eyes peel away each of the layers she’s worked with Maeve for months to don in a second.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It’s honest and maybe she’s not the same Aelin as a few months ago either.

That’s what she had asked for that night in the cool air, to move past them with as little commotion as possible, stirring up as little attention as they could. She hadn’t wanted to let them eclipse the movie and yet that ended up being exactly what she had accomplished.

Now though, Aelin knows better.

Rowan nods as his eyes dart across her face. He seems to step closer without realising. Aelin notes the motion, still so aware of him and his proximity to her.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “I was so angry at you for leaving.”

Aelin loses her breath at his confession.

Eventually she manages, “was?”

He looks away from her, glancing down the dark hallway, his jaw tight. When she’s with him she forgets about the world around them, there’s probably-definitely-CCTV in this hallway but he’s here and she can’t let him go yet.

His fists curl and uncurl as he takes a deep breath.

“Was,” he says shortly. “I was so angry at you, the way you did what you did was shit.”

Aelin swallows. He’s not wrong.

“I know.”

“But now I don’t know.” She lifts her eyes to his, swimming in the openness she doesn’t deserve. And fuck that. That is such bullshit. She meets his stare, returning all that he isn’t saying. “I spent a long time thinking about it, thinking about you, and it took me a while but now I get it.”

That hurts more than she expects. She didn’t expect him to be all over her the minute they reunited but his understanding was always a kicker.

“I know why you did it,” he continues. “And that took most of the wind out of my sails.”

Aelin frowns. He can’t possibly know why.

“I don’t think you do.” He tilts his head, an invitation for her to expand. “Or you’d know that nothing has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

His question throws her. Completely.

She tilts her head up to look at him, closer to her than he’s been all night, pushing her to keep being honest with him.

She’s dazed being this close to him again after so long, the green of his eyes stronger than she remembers. Or maybe her brain had assured her the memory of him couldn’t have been real.

“I don’t know,” she admits, unable to fight the way her body leans into him.

His teeth graze his lower lip and she follows the motion.

He’s silent for a beat too long and her skin is thrumming under his attention. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without him, she doesn’t know how she thought she’d survive never having him again.

“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says finally, drawing back and a rush of cool air fills the space he had taken. “Goodnight Aelin.”

He turns and she watches his back down the hallway. He slips easily into a room a few doors down and she’s left watching the path he’d taken, feeling the weight of his eyes on her lips.

Her head thuds against the door as she screws her eyes shut. She wants to scream, wants to chase him down the hall, wants to fly back to Orynth where she was safe.

She doesn’t do any of those things.

She tucks herself into her hotel room and readies herself for the whirlwind that’s about to hit. These next few weeks are going to be hard, not just dealing with the Rowan situation, but she can’t fight the excitement she feels.

Fuck. She’s back in Rifthold, back where she loves, doing what she was born to do.

This is big. She can feel it.

The Crescent City is not her first project, and so she’s been a part of press cycles before, she knows how they go. What she doesn’t know is how a press cycle for something like this works.

The only word she can find is insanity.

There are somehow earlier mornings than they had while shooting and often longer days. She gets poked and prodded in hair and make-up for hours before they spend all day sat in a hotel room filming repetitive interviews for various magazines.

She and Fenrys are genuinely friends and yet they still have to put on a show in front of the cameras. She plays up her laughter when he cracks a joke and he makes sure to never look away from her for longer than two seconds when she speaks or a producer behind the camera makes a comment.

She loves Fenrys but it’s exhausting. Her only blessing is that for most of her engagements she’s with Fenrys and Manon with Rowan conducting his own interviews separately as she had hoped.

Sometimes though, given their relatively similar ages and general level of chemistry, they get grouped together.

The four of them are filming a video for Buzzfeed, filling in a quiz to find out which character from The Crescent City they’re most like. She’s unsurprised to discover her result is Rhysand and it’s fun even if her heart does pound every time she has to act like she’s unfazed and friendly with Rowan.

There’s a moment, just a moment, where she almost breaks from her friendly and unbothered interview persona. It’s her turn to read the question, what item could you not survive without on a desert island?

It’s Rowan that speaks. “Her shampoo,” he says, “it’s jasmine.”

There’s a split second where she doesn’t speak, where all she can do is stare at Rowan, stunned that he remembered and thought to mention it now.

In that split second she’s transported back to memories of them together in the shower at her rented apartment, kissing lazily under the spray after spending hours between her sheets. She remembers dumping the shampoo into her hand and then onto his head, massaging his thick locks and surrounding them in the scent of jasmine.

She remembers how he kissed her neck as she did, trailing his hands over her silky curves, slick with the soap, with his kisses building in heat until her hands dropped to his shoulders. He’d lavished kisses down her chest until he’d jerked back, shampoo in his eyes and she’d laughed until he was safe and pressed his lips again to hers, continuing where he’d left off.

She’s shocked he’d bring this up when there’s a camera on the two of them and she can only imagine the comments it will spark. She’s not sure she cares if it keeps Rowan’s eyes on her.

“It’s luxurious for a reason,” she says when she recovers, tossing her thick locks over her shoulder. “Well worth it.”

She doesn’t miss the flicker in his own mask at her comment.

That kind of interaction will no doubt ignite the sparks she’d only ever wanted to avoid.

As the press cycle goes on and on, and they get closer and closer to the premiere it only becomes harder for her conviction to hold.

She tests her own argument, the clear line she drew in the sand, when she manages to keep it professional with Rowan and she’s not sure where that leaves her. She had thought they would overshadow everything about the project and now she’s not sure.

She said nothing had changed and he had challenged her.

She’s still not sure who’s in the right.

Everything is simultaneously completely new and exactly the same. Rowan is still gorgeous, still charming in his own reserved way, still almost reverent when he talks about his craft throughout interviews. He still talks with his hands and Aelin still can’t draw her eyes away from their motions, she still craves the touch of them on her skin. He’s still seven years older than her and the director of her big break.

Yet there are differences.

They’re still often on the same page, offering similar answers and backing each other up but now he never backs down from a challenge. Now he doesn’t hold back those comments she knows he was always dying to let slip. She should be annoyed, everytime he drops a line that pushes her to expand a little part of her wants to roll her eyes.

She doesn’t though. Her blood heats and her skin prickles. She loves this with him. Loves the dance they play, the teasing, verbal games that shouldn’t start her off but do. She loves the smirk he wears when they end up down that path, and she knows she wears it’s mirror image.

She always ends up squirming in her seat and it should be wrong but it isn’t. The cameras can’t see below their chests and the flush in her cheeks could easily be from the warmth of the day.

She’s beginning to wonder if she’s powerless against Rowan Whitethorn. If she’s powerless against the green of his eyes or the curl of his accent. The slant of his brows or the points of his teeth when he smiles.

She doesn’t know that it’s just one thing. It’s all of the things, it’s all of him, and more so than ever she’s completely fucked.

But they aren’t talking outside of the interviews and photoshoots, and the knowledge of which hotel room is his itches her toes every night. It would be so easy to sneak down the hall, to knock on the door and slot her lips to his when he opened.

It’s only a couple of nights before the premiere when the temptation becomes too much. She’s been around Rowan all day, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave, the notes of pine and freshness and Rowan and it’s too much. She strides down the hallway, resolved in her decision and closes her fingers over the button for the lift.

She needs to be elsewhere or she’ll make some bad decisions.

She’s come so far, survived months without him, she can’t cave due to proximity.

The hotel bar is deserted when she walks in and makes a beeline to the bartender. Yeah, maybe after her wobble at the wrap party a bar isn’t the best decision she could make but her options are limited. Trying to sleep with Rowan is, after all, probably the worst of both options.

“Just a sparkling water please,” she says to the barman who nods and returns a moment later.

“Put it on my tab.” A voice from the end of the bar.

A laugh bubbles out of her chest as she closes her fingers around her glass. Of course he’s here. She should have spotted Rowan the minute she walked in and it’s cruel that the reason she didn’t was that her thoughts were too wrapped up in him.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” she says as she walks over, her steps measured as she comes to a stop before him. Her hips swing of their own accord and his eyes dart up and down the length of her. “I can put a number of these away.”

The smile he gives her is surprisingly unguarded. It seems he’s done holding himself back too. Aelin loves it.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, nodding at the stool next to him. She obliges as he speaks again. “It’s hard to switch off sometimes.”

He’s always on the same page as she is. Aelin shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he bought her.

They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure of how to break the silence between them when one of the last things they knew was the taste of each other’s lips.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it, that one day this will just be my job, but I never do,” Aelin says eventually, tracing a fingertip through the condensation gathered on her glass.

Rowan nods, smiling softly down at the bar and taking a sip of his own drink. An orange juice as usual.

“It’s hard to sleep at the end of days like today,” he says. “It’s why I’m in here.”

The bar is dark at the late hour, and quiet with no one else in there but them and the bartender. There’s something about the late hour, the darkness and the stillness surrounding them a break from the recent rush, that feels a little bit too close. She feels a little too exposed under the weight of his gaze but she rolls her shoulders back and leans an elbow on the bar as she turns towards him.

“I thought you’d be used to all of this by now,” she says and he cocks his head.

“Why?” His question is coy, begging her to expand.

“This is not your first rodeo and all of that,” she says with a smile.

Rowan laughs softly, the sound curving around her like an embrace.

“It can still be overwhelming after your first big movie,” he says gently, but with an edge to his voice that she needs to immediately get rid of.

“I don’t doubt that,” is what she whispers and his brow seems to soften, sensing her lack of malice.

She hates the way they’re in the position where he assumes the worst of her. She has to make that change.

“I don’t think if I get to do this for the rest of my life that it would ever feel normal.”

“No,” Rowan agrees, “I don’t think it could.”

“So then we need this film to do well.” Aelin shifts on the stool, finding herself leaning closer to him without conscious thought. He doesn’t retreat. He stands his ground until they’re only inches apart. “Lest we find ourselves fading into obscurity.”

“I doubt you ever could,” he says with a laugh and it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

As he looks at her, his expression soft in the dim light, his smile holds something special for her and her chest lifts that she managed it. That he was willing to give that to her.

“My agent sent over the initial critic reviews earlier,” he says and her stomach plummets.

“And?” she demands, her voice wobbling slightly. Her confidence from a minute ago vanished.

This is the moment where she could sink, the moment this could all be over.

“And they’re good,” he almost whispers.

“Good,” she repeats and it’s not a question but he nods.

She wants to throw herself at him at the news, a couple of months ago she wouldn’t have even hesitated, but now she sits clenching her fists and trying not to smile too wide. It feels like a waste. She’ll never get this feeling again.

She turns to him and he’s smiling so she does what she’s wanted to for months. Aelin leans forwards and wraps an arm over his shoulders, pressing her chest to his.

His arms slip up slowly over her shoulders at first, unsure but gaining confidence as he tightens his grip around her, drawing her further into his chest. Aelin laughs a little, throwing her other arm around him and resting her face against his shoulder.

It’s not enough, it never could be with him, but it will do. She’s just happy he didn’t push her away.

Eventually, after a length of time that feels far too short, she pulls back to see him gazing down at her with an expression she can’t name. His brows are drawn in with his lips gently parted. He’s happy but apprehensive, open but distant. Aelin will take what she can and the distance between them has always been too far.

She wants nothing more than to close it, to draw herself into him and he into her, but she can’t. They’re here for one thing and one thing only and she refuses after what they’ve been through to mess it up again.

She knows he can read her own expression but she doesn’t care. She’ll hide from everyone and anyone but she’s realising she could never hide from him.

She wants Rowan, will probably want him for the rest of her life, but she made the call and he’s wrong, things haven’t changed.

Apart from all of the things that have.

The day of the premiere Aelin feels sick.

Her stomach twists and she tosses and turns all night and the dark circles under her eyes are brutal as a result. Her make-up artist tuts but diligently packs concealer on until Aelin looks well rested. Or as close as she can.

She’s trying not to think of the stretch of carpet she’ll have to walk tonight, a smile plastered across her face as she poses for the hundreds of cameras. Their premiere is one of the biggest of the season and, along with Fenrys, she’s the star.

She’ll have nowhere to hide.

Aelin sits in front of her mirror, her hair and make-up are done but she’s yet to get dressed. She takes herself in, making sure to note every strand of hair to every line of her lips, feeling as though she needs to remember this moment. The moment before it all explodes.

They’ve been building to this for almost a year now and this is as close to a culmination as she’ll get.

Her dress is something fierce. Endless, flowing velvet in the darkest shade of black. Long sleeves and a fitted bodice with an almost indecent dip in the back. The dress would be modest without that cut out, she can’t wear any underwear it dips so low.

It would be a simple dress, some might even dare to say boring, if it weren’t for the back. The majority of the fabric that remains is covered in gold embroidery taking the form of a dragon, coiled to strike. Aelin adored the dress the moment her stylist revealed it to her. She didn’t consider any of the other dresses, didn’t even acknowledge them as options.

The dress is what she needs, something strong, something to help her hold her head up high. She can walk the red carpet and stare down every single person who doubted her and know that they were wrong.

Aelin doesn’t need their approval. She doesn’t need the reassurance of faceless commenters, she doesn’t need the support of the magazines and the newspapers. She doesn’t need her mother’s approval. On anything.

Aelin is confident and self-assured and she can walk the red carpet knowing that.

Her sessions with Maeve have helped to reassure her stance, but she’s realising day by day she’s known it all along. It’s just taken a little bit of digging to uncover it.

She slips into her dress and it slides on like a second skin. She takes in her appearance, the arch of her brow and the red smirk of her lips makes her look intriguing, like a confident young woman.

Aelin was born to be an actress but she’s proud to say the sight in the mirror is real.

She poses for a few photos before she’s led out of her room and into the car, waiting to take her to the theatre.

She spends the ride in silence, barely listening to the jabbering of the aide in the car with her, and she focuses her thoughts on the calm before the storm. She takes deep breaths and centres herself the way Maeve has taught, she knows this could so easily be overwhelming but she’s determined to enjoy it.

The car stills and she can hear the noise of the crowd outside. She takes a final deep breath and allows her lips to spread into a smile. This one is genuine, nothing forced about it, and she pauses for one last beat.

This is big and Aelin is ready.

The car door opens and the sound hits her like a wave, slamming down onto her and it's so loud she can hardly think.

This is it. This is the moment she has dreamed of.

The nights where this image was all she could cling to to make it through could never have compared to how it feels standing here now, screams of her own name wrapping around her and urging her on.

Her steps are slow and purposeful as she glides down the path forged for her, the red carpet beneath her stilettos is plush and bright. She pauses where she’s instructed, rolling her shoulders back and smirking at the cameras with a hand on her hip.

She knows she looks incredible and the shouts of the photographers do nothing to change her mind. They are here for her, they’re all here for what she has accomplished, along with Fenrys, Manon, Chaol and Rowan and everyone else involved.

There are so many forces upon her, the flashing of the lights, the screams and shouts calling her name or Fenrys’, the magnitude of what this is could knock down a lesser individual but all it does is raise Aelin up.

She’s been through worse than this and survived, she’ll stare down the lense of all of these cameras, of everyone who has ever spoken her name and she won’t cower, she won’t just survive. She’ll thrive.

A warm hand lands on her waist and somehow the flashes of the cameras explode.

“Hey, golden girl.” Fenrys’ words are almost hard to hear even though his lips brush her ear. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin wraps her arm around his back and grins, “I thought I’d at least show my face.”

He returns her smile and together they pose for the cameras, their shoulders back and smiles confident. She’s not sure this could be better.

Until she turns slightly to her left and gets flashes of silver where she and Fenrys are gold.

Rowan and Manon, posing for their own pictures mere metres away. He looks spectacular, the deep black of his tuxedo doing nothing but bringing out the depth of his tan and the shine of his silver hair.

He’s smiling his public smile and it’s gorgeous even though it’s not her favourite of his smiles, she loves the private ones he used to save just for her, and her own smile falters at the sight.

She’s here with Fenrys and it’s not wrong but it doesn’t feel right. The arm around her waist shouldn’t belong to Fenrys.

She should be where Manon is, smiling up at Rowan while they marvel at what they’ve accomplished. She knows her smile has dropped and she fumbles for anything to plaster onto her expression other than the longing she feels for Rowan.

As if she’d called his name he turns to her, green colliding with blue, and she knows he feels the same.

And that hurts far more than all of the months they spent apart.

All the months she spent hurting, trying to deny what she always knew, trying to pretend that they were anything other than a force of nature. They had been an eclipse, threatening to over take all of this but she was wrong. Rowan was wrong too.

It doesn’t matter whether everything or nothing has changed because she wasn’t right in the first place.

She should have known better than to think that whatever flimsy decision she made could halt what they were, what they should be.

She can only hope he forgives her. She can only hope he feels the same.

But the thing about this new Rowan is that she can’t read him the way she used to read her Rowan, she can’t tell if the way he steels himself and turns away from her is a dismissal or if the look they shared had been just as painful for him as it had been for her.

“A masterpiece.” - Rifthold Reporter

“Fenrys Moonbeam shines alongside Aelin Ashryver in The Crescent City. See our full review here.” - Wyrd Stone

“Latest Rowan Whitethorn flick smashes Box Office records.” - Valg Weekly

“Unapologetic, daring and thought provoking. Award nominations expected to follow for The Crescent City.” - Terrasen Tribune

Her phone has not stopped buzzing for the past four days.

Dorian texts every waking hour with the updates he gets, the numbers coming in and all her latest offers. It’s surreal. She knew they were good but she’s not sure she ever really expected this. Aedion texts her a picture every time he sees or hears her name, it should be terrifying the frequency with which he texts her but she has to fight back her smile each time he does.

She managed to find an hour the night before to call Lysandra and the majority of their call had consisted of Aelin repeatedly asking what the fuck was happening while Lysandra cackled down the phone.

She’d even got a text from Lorcan. It was alright, he’d written. Followed by, I hope I die before ever having to watch you make out with someone like that again.

She’d sent three middle finger emojis and a kissy face in response.

Now is probably not the best time to move to a different country but she’d signed her name on the papers two days before the premiere and Rifthold is calling, irrespective of the fact she’s only been back in Orynth for two days.

Most of her stuff headed out yesterday with the moving company leaving Aelin with two suitcases to fly back to Rifthold with tomorrow.

There’s one last place she needs to go before she heads back to finally get a good night's sleep before her flight tomorrow. She’s never set foot in this graveyard before, she’s never had the courage to dare before, but she’s emboldened. By the success of the movie, by her progress in the past year, by her sessions with Maeve. This has felt like a natural step.

The shining, black headstone is understated and classy and completely to his taste.

Sam Cortland. Beloved son and brother, taken far too soon.

Aelin waits with her head bowed, allowing all of her emotions to rush through her veins. She doesn’t fight them, it would be pointless to try, and she embraces the tears that gather. Eventually she steps forwards, placing the smooth, small stone on the crest of the headstone.

She rests her hand on the cool stone for a moment before sinking down and crossing her legs beneath her as she leans against it.

“I’ve missed you,” she says aloud, “I can almost hear you telling me to stop being such a sappy shit. I can’t help it, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

She pauses, letting the wind drift through the field sweeping her words away.

There’s no one else here but her and Sam, no one else she’d want to hear her confession.

“I wonder what you would have made of all this. I think you’d tell me to enjoy it all, to not miss a moment, and I’m not. I’m just choosing the ones I want to savour. And this is one of them, Sam. I wish you’d been there with me, you would have loved it, the cameras, the lights, everything.

“I have to keep pinching myself to know it’s real, I did it, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”

She sighs, letting her head tip back to rest against the stone. She didn’t prepare anything to say, didn’t realise she’d even want to speak to the open air but here she is.

“I’m not the same Aelin as the girl you knew anymore,” she says after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think I would have the capacity to love again after you but I did, and I feel terribly guilty that I do. I have to remind myself that this is what you would have wanted, you would have wanted me to be happy.”

The silence in the field is more than an answer enough. So typically Sam to give her an answer without so much as speaking a word.

“I was happy,” she says, trailing a fingertip along the words etched into the stone. “I will be again.”

A faint haze of sunlight drifts through the Orynth autumn clouds, a whisper compared to the chorus of brightness she misses in Rifthold, and she stands, brushing off the dirt from her jeans. She touches the stone one last time before turning and heading out of the graveyard.

Her visit was years overdue but her chest didn’t crack open the way she had expected, the tears hadn’t been relentless the way she had expected. She’ll visit him again the next time she’s back in Orynth, probably visiting Elide and Lorcan for Yulemass, and she’ll visit again and again for as long as she lives.

But for now, she has a plane to catch.

Months later and two days before the Oscars, when they’re all back in town for the ceremony held in her new home city of Rifthold, Fenrys throws another party.

She’s managed, this time, to stay in touch with Fenrys and Manon, having made up with the younger girl before the press cycle had finished. Aelin knows her upset was real but partly suspects the animosity was a front. She even finds herself participating in the group chat with the three of them and Rowan. She’s only texted him one to one once to wish him a happy birthday and they had caught up briefly but not texted since.

She’s missed him in a different way to the last time she missed him. This time missing him doesn’t feel necessary, it feels wrong not to text him, wrong to be away from him and she’s itching to see him again.

It’s no one's birthday this time but they’re all together again to celebrate, no matter the results they’ll see in two days. Aelin is very carefully measuring her excitement about her own nomination for best actress. Fenrys is up for best actor, Rowan best director and the movie best picture.

She’d almost dropped her phone in the toilet when she found out from Dorian a few weeks ago.

The party is small but still in full swing by the time she arrives. Big names from the industry, all in town for the ceremony, are scattered all around Fenrys’ Rifthold apartment. He’d bought a place here not long after Aelin and she’s secretly relieved she’s not the only one so moved by their experience.

She waves to a few people she knows and tries to stay calm when she spots Sartaq Khagan in the corner chatting away to a small group of people. Holy shit Fenrys has some famous friends.

Aelin finds herself a glass, tops her orange juice off with a splash of lemonade and begins her rounds. So many more people want to talk to her after the movie dropped.

Her mother had been one of them, and Aelin’s thumb had hovered over the accept button for a moment before decidedly pressing decline. She had blocked her mother’s number a moment later, and then she had made some calls closing the bank account her mother kept topped up and arranging for every penny she’d ever received from Evalin Ashryver to be paid back.

It had hurt, emotionally and financially, especially in the month she’d moved to Rifthold, but it had been worth it. To never let Evalin pass any judgement over her life again was a relief worth any cost. Aelin’s hoping there’s a possibility she could end up with a reward.

She doesn’t know how long she spends talking to big name after big name and it’s a realisation that drops onto her that she fits in here. Aelin Ashryver is a big name. No matter the outcome of the ceremony she has prospects, already a number of projects lined up and she’s loving every minute of it.

She drains her cup for the third time tonight and heads back into the kitchen. She’s barely seen Fenrys all night, and she doesn’t even know if Manon is here.

She frowns into the fridge, there was definitely a full bottle of orange juice in here the last time she topped herself up. She shuts the fridge and spins around.

“Looking for this?”

She should have known.

Rowan looks predictably gorgeous in the dim kitchen lighting. All tanned skin and silver smiles. He’s dressed in her favourite look of his too, worn denim jeans and a soft cotton shirt.

It’s the softness in his gaze that really takes her though, it seems the animosity from the last time they saw each other has faded if not disappeared. Her chest squeezes at the thought. She has no idea what could have triggered it but she will take it.

“Nope,” she says, stepping over to where he stands with an arm braced against the counter at his side, the other holding out a bottle of orange juice. “I was hoping Fenrys would have some chocolate in there but I guess this will have to do.”

She takes the bottle from him, her fingertips brushing his and she feels her cheeks heat at the innocent brush.

His smile is genuine and she knows what he’s remembering because she’s thinking of it too. The first time she visited his house during filming and their moment in the kitchen. They’ve been through cycles, she supposes, but hopefully now for the better.

“I’m sure we can find you some somewhere in here,” he says as she fills her cup, pulling open the cupboard next to his head.

Aelin smirks. “I’m going to leave the rummaging through Fenrys’ cupboards to you. You could find anything in there.”

Rowan winces, closing the door before returning her smile. This is friendly and the hope that’s been planted in her chest begins to sprout.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Aelin pauses for a moment, taking in the glory of him in front of her. He’s still Rowan, he’s still tall and deliciously broad. His silver hair is slightly more grown out and there are a couple more lines around his eyes but she doesn’t care, in fact it’s charming. He’s still and always will be stunning. She takes a sip of her drink before she takes one of her biggest risks so far.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, not daring to look away from his face.

He bites his lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before he speaks. “I’ve missed you too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all too telling but he’s smiling too so she doesn’t think it matters. He definitely feels the same and she’d be annoyed at the months she spent worrying but the relief is too sweet.

“Good,” is what she says, far too happy they’re here to bother with pretending she’s anything other than ecstatic. “Congrats on your nomination.”

His eyes dart to the floor and then back up at her, he’s too modest about his own skill and Aelin adores it. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you too.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.”

“Me neither,” Rowan says.

He’s close to her now, closer than he has been to her for months and her skin cries out for contact. She almost can’t believe she’s here now, talking to Rowan without any animosity, days before the Oscars that she’s nominated in.

The smile that takes over her face is completely of its own accord. She’s floating and it seems Rowan is too if the beat they share, exchanging incredulous smiles, is anything to go by.

“It’s crazy, right?”

She’s been asking herself the question for so long it seems only natural it slips out to him.

He laughs softly, and the rough sound curls straight to her core.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his voice low. “I don’t think last time felt like this.”

Aelin slaps a gentle hand to his chest and ignores the thrill that shoots through her at the eventual contact. “I get it, this is not your first nomination.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and she didn’t know how much she missed this, playing with him. She adores his reaction every time, the begrudging amusement he only lets shine through to make her smile.

“Some of us have never been nominated before, this is all completely new.” Aelin takes a sip of her drink. “I had to give up my social media accounts to Elide, it got so crazy.”

Something flickers over Rowan’s face at her comment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting across his face trying to decipher the expression. “She’s always had access and I still do so I can post if I want to but it just became a lot. It stopped being fun when I would see what people were saying, whether it was good or bad I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Rowan nods before his eyes lock onto hers, the intensity in his expression shreds her control.

“And you said nothing had changed?”

Aelin gets it now.

She shifts her weight, leaning as close to him as she can without sliding herself completely into the circle of his arms. “I was wrong. Lots of things have changed,” she says, her voice quiet but strong. “And lots of things are now right that weren’t before.”

She doesn’t mean to skirt around the truth, hiding in veiled words and double meanings, but as always, Rowan sees her. He sees her meaning and he smiles. It’s the most beautiful smile Aelin has ever seen him wear.

“I’ve been looking for you two.”

Fenrys bursts into the kitchen, startling Aelin back from Rowan. She hides her guilty smile in her drink and notices Rowan doing the same. Fenrys just grins, clearly enjoying whatever he thinks he’s seeing.

“You’re missing out, we’re playing kings in the living room if you want to join?”

Rowan glances at her before he turns back to Fenrys. “I think we’re good, thanks.”

Fenrys’ smile turns smug and Aelin resists the temptation to flip him off. She’s in too good of a mood to be annoyed at him.

“Okay, see you later, lovebirds,” Fenrys says, already on his way back out of the door.

Aelin pretends she isn’t blushing as she turns back to Rowan, his green eyes shining.

“This might sound crazy,” he says with an alluring tilt to his lips, “but do you want to get out of here?”

She’s reached a point she truly never thought she would.

She’s an Oscar-nominated lead actress in a box-office-record-breaking movie.

She’s happy, healthy and out from underneath the thumb of Evalin Ashryver.

The part that’s most uplifting, the part that has her unable to wipe the smile off her face as she strolls down the streets of Rifthold, is the arm she has tucked through Rowan’s.

They’ve been walking for a little while, enjoying the cool night air and the ease with which they managed to sneak out of Fenrys’ party. Her heels are killing her and Rowan very graciously offers her an arm to lean on and each time she takes a step in time with him she smiles.

“I never thought I’d like doing television,” he says.

She didn’t know he’d taken on a miniseries, similar to the one she’d done after filming, but she’s loving the recap she’s getting of the months they’ve been apart. The chill of the air is more than fought off by the warmth of Rowan by her side. The streets are mercifully empty and she can bask in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here, that they’re insignificant, that anyone who sees them will immediately dismiss them.

“I always thought I’d stick to movies, singular stories but I enjoyed it. I guess change can be good.”

Aelin laughs softly and squeezes his arm. He looks down to her, a question written in the slant of his brow.

“Change can definitely be good,” she says as she takes in the sights of the skyscrapers surrounding them. “I would know that I suppose.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought a flat recently.”

“You did?”

He’s so graciously giving her the floor to say what she needs to say and she holds his arm even tighter.

“It’s right here in Rifthold.” Aelin avoids his gaze, lest he think it’s a speedy invitation and that that’s all this is. “I bought it just after we were back here for press, I realised that I adore Rifthold and being here. I missed it when I wasn’t here and I don’t feel there’s anything holding me in Orynth anymore.”

Rowan laughs softly, his feet scuffing the floor.

“What?” she demands.

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says and she feels a smile creep onto her face. “I bought a loft here too.”

Aelin gasps. “But your house was gorgeous!”

Rowan’s smile twists as he looks away from her. “I didn’t say I sold the house.”

Aelin cackles as she squeezes his arm, the sound joyous and bright as it echoes around them. “I knew being Mr Big-Name-Director has its perks.”

“It does,” he agrees with a smirk.

Aelin wants to kiss that smirk. Wants to pull him down and twist her fingers through his hair as his own tangle along her skin.

Instead she says, “I copied you somewhat too.”

He only raises a brow.

“I bought a piano like the one in your house. It was too big for my old flat in Orynth and so I knew what I had to do.”

“That’s good,” he says as his arm drops out of hers. She almost pouts until he instead tangles their fingers together. Her smile says it all, reflected back in his own. “You play beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks are glowing. “You’ll have to come over and I’ll play for you sometime, neighbour.”

“I’d love to.”

Aelin slows, using the hand tangled with his to pull him to a stop too. Her free hand trails a gentle path up his chest before coming to rest at his collar, her fingertips tracing the golden skin peeking out from his shirt. His free hand finds her waist.

They’re close, closer than they have been in such a long time when he speaks.

“I don’t know what you think has or hasn’t changed.” His hand leaves hers to cup her cheek. “But I still feel the way I used to about you.”

Her heart takes off, pounding within her chest.

“I do too, Rowan.” Some of the easiest words she’s ever said to him. There’s something about the way the streetlights shine through the silver tips of his hair and the way his calloused fingers feel between hers that she’s feeling brave. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

His eyes flicker across her face as his smile dawns, taking over his face as he smiles so brightly. This is all she’s ever wanted, to have a Rowan like this, with pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You love me?”

“I do. To whatever end.”

His lips are barely a whisper from hers and she only acknowledges the thought that they’re in public for long enough to realise she doesn’t care.

“And I love you.”

His words are simple, but sweet. They wash over her and settle into her skin as his lips land on hers. He kisses her with what she can only describe as love. His lips pour devotion onto her and his hands light a fire inside her as he tastes her tongue.

They kiss for longer than she can keep a track of, wrapped up together illuminated only by the street lighting. She’s missed this, missed him, and she can’t help but feel right when his hands are on her. She can’t help but feel right as she stretches onto her toes to throw herself into his kiss.

This was never wrong, this was one of the first things she knew was right.

She loves him and he loves her and nothing and nobody else matters.

She doesn’t win the Oscar, and neither does Rowan. Fenrys does and she screams herself hoarse cheering him on as he makes his way to the stage.

The moment that takes the cake is when The Crescent City takes best picture. She takes to the stage with some of her best friends to recognise what they achieved together and maybe she is a soppy shit but she definitely cries. Fenrys laughs at her and Manon grins but Rowan just throws his arm around her shoulders and it's worth it.

Afterwards, she logs into her Instagram account for the first time in a long time. She posts a picture of Rowan looking absolutely delicious with his tux unbuttoned and his bow tie hanging untied around his neck with a greasy burger in one hand and hers in his other.

Posting him is a statement but she doesn’t care. In fact, she wants the world to know. She wants the world to know that nobody does it like he does. Nobody does it like they do.

#rowaelin #nobody does it like you do #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #rowaelin au #ndilyd #i cant believe it's the last part of this fic #crazy #hope you all enjoyed

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