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mtchee · 5 months ago

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An Honour to be in a Harem!? - [Genshin Impact SAGAU] | MDNI | GN AFAB 18+

blurb:

The concept of all these gorgeous people bowing before you is hard to grasp, but it's even worse to think that they'd actually offer themselves to you as a love interest. So obviously, you brush them off and decline, retorting that just because you're their supposed Creator doesn't mean they should feel as though they had to subject themselves to your unwanted affection. After all, who were you really, to compare to them? Unfortunately (or fortunately, actually) they seem quite boggled at your output. Ah! It all makes sense now! Their dearly Beloved is the shy type! Worry not, your Grace! Your dearest acolytes are more than happy to bask in any sort of attention you decide to share! Rest assured, they'll take care of all your needs~

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kind of a sequel?, afab bodied, you are dearly beloved and longed for <3, realistically if this happened i would rather die of a heart attack, lots of love and affection!!, mdni, spicy content, swearing, smut, overstim, manhandling, voyeurism, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, sub [name], use of terms cunny cunt pussy tit breasts, help i'm embarassed i wrote this omfg who am i, would u believe me if i said this is my first smut

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

< prev. - amab! ver. - next. > [afab] [amab]

[3.0k]

What is this bullshit.

You can't help but just blink at the Archon knelt at your feet, his head bowed low. When you emit a shocked squeak he looks up at you, amber eyes latching onto your flustered expression.

Your gaze darts around the few others surrounding your throne--you only really sit in it when the people of teyvat line up for personal prayers and blessings, or when someone tells you to. Otherwise, you avoid sitting in it.

Venti, Ei, Al-haitham, Ayato, Ningguang, Jean, Furina, Neuvillette, and Tartaglia stand past Zhongli who is knelt before you.

You force a polite smile and let out a nervous laugh, "Aha, um... d-dont.. you don't have to do that. Really."

"Do not misunderstand, Beloved," The geo Archon stands to his full height, and you feel small despite the grandness of your seat, "it truly would be my--our, utmost honour." He places a hand over his heart and bows lowly by the waist. The others follow in tandem, and you panic.

"No! Really," Although all your fanfic dreams were coming true, knowing that these are now very much real people and not just characters put you on edge. They all have their own lives to live, their own goals and ambitions, likes and dislikes, preferences and attractions that you certainly didn't and never would attain.

At first, the idea is flustering and the offer makes you feel giddy, but looking into it, you feel bad. They see you as their All-Maker, who are you to make them miserable?

"You don't need to do that. I-I know there's that rumour going around, but really, I'm fine by myself."

"Your Grace," Ei steps forwards with a tiny furrow in her thin brows, "please, it would be our honour--"

"You know what would really be an honour," Your heart stings slightly, but you straighten up on your throne and give your audience a reassuring smile, "is if you went out on your own to seek who you actually love, to find a partner you'll be happy to spend your time with--to love on your own accord. That, would be an honour, I'd say."

You're not oblivious to how everyone reels back at your words, a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief covering their features sported by prominent frowns.

Al-haitham is the one to break the tense silence that freezes the room.

"Beloved," His eyes flicker over you, thought and theories wiring around his ever working mind, "are we unsatisfactory?"

You blanch, "Gah! No! Oh my--it's nothing like that!" You can't help but feel flushed under the intensity of their eyes.

"It's just, you need to not see me as a duty."

You address them calmly, forcing your fluttering feelings down to school your face passively.

"You need to focus on yourselves, and your own lives. I'm not here to come between that."

Their silent stares are unnerving, and Venti and Furina share a look with hidden smiles while Jean steps forward with a respecful bow.

"Of course, your Grace."

"F-Fuck..!"

Embarassed tears sting your eyeline while you hold your breath, desperately trying to get ahold of yourself.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head and a loud moan is forced out of you each time Ayato's fat cock plunges in and out of your sloppy cunt.

He sits leant against the finest silken pillows with your naked back pressed against his bare, toned chest, an arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other sweetly fondles with one of your spit laden breasts.

Thoma lay stomach down on the soft doona, face buried dutifully between your quivering thighs which he holds apart with surprising strength. He tongues at your swollen clit fervently, and you cry out in humiliation when your slick gushes from your slit and onto the expensive fabric below.

"G-nngh!" You clench your eyes shut at the embarassingly loud noise of skin slapping against skin and the lewd sucks of Thoma's mouth and the squelching of your pussy, "a-ah..! Ah! Ah!"

The Kamisato Commisioner lets out a low moan by your ear, feeling your hot and gummy walls squeeze down on his cock deliciously.

"Remember-- hng! R-Remember to breathe, my beloved."

He gently squishes the enticing softness of your tit, bucking up into you abruptly when you let out a squeal as he pinches your nipple.

"M-Mm~ my dearest," Thoma moans onto your slickened pearl, and you just about explode at the burst of electric pleasure that shoots up your spine, "you taste.. divine..~!"

Your heart thrums at the messy sight of him, his lips, chin and cheeks covered in your honey thick slick with half lidded eyes locked onto your expressions. You let out a needy moan when you notice him desperately grinding his naked hips into the bedding for release.

A now all too familiar searing pleasure suddenly coils in the utmost depth of your body, and you scream at the sheer ferocity of it.

"C-Can't! I can't!"

You buck your hips away from Ayato's throbbing length and bump into Thoma's chin, but they only follow you--the commisioner's arm moving from your waist to your hips, locking you in place while Thoma's grip moves from your thighs to the underside of your knees, opening you up and forcibly holding you still.

You dig your nails into Ayato's arm, your other hand fruitlessly shoving at the housekeeper's head to push him away.

The pleasure becomes piercing, and you choke on a sob as your gushing cunny just goes squelch, squelch, squelch with every thrust you have to take. His cock feels so dangerously good, and you fear your clit might bleed from its continuous onslaught of pleasure.

Thoma's tongue licks at the opening of your slit and the base of his lord's cock, and Ayato curses lowly, his grip tightening.

You feel something thick and heavy and hot spurt inside you, though the pounding doesn't let up and the near painful coil violently pops inside you, and you shriek in tandem with the burst of watery clear fluid that squirts from your throbbing cunny.

Your face burns hot with humiliation, and you can only muffle your embarassed moans into the fabric of the couch.

Naked and vulnerable, you're bent ass up and face down over Al-haitham's lap with his dominant hand knuckle deep in your wet pussy.

Maybe, just maybe you might've been able to handle this amicably, but not with Kaveh walking in and berating the Akademia Scribe turned Grand Sage on his pleasure skills.

With your ass held high and knees spread, your leaking cunt is on display for the genius architect while his roommate fingers you ruthlessly, constantly prodding and rubbing that special squishy spot inside you that renders you immobile.

"H-Hah.. mmngh! Ah..."

You can do nothing but take it and drool on the couch while they squabble above you as though you're not there.

"--Y-You brute! That's our beloved and you're treating them like that!?"

"I'd say our Creator quite likes it."

You stifle a screech when Al-haitham takes his other hand and spreads your ass open to prove his argument to Kaveh.

"See?" He takes out his fingers and spreads them apart, watching your hot slick string apart, "and here too." You sob loudly as he gently prods your pussy lips apart to stare down your red, throbbing clit.

Kaveh's face flushes at the lewd display, and he gulps while setting his suitcase down off to the side before approaching.

"A-And?"

"[name] has cum thrice already."

Kaveh's brow twitches, "Were you not going to clean them up?!"

Al-haitham huffs indifferently despite the miniscule tint of pink arousal across his cheeks, "I'll leave that to you."

The blond hmphs at him before cooing at you softly, praising you with your title and demeanour.

"Our beloved," He caresses your back, and you shiver pleasantly at the tingle it stimulates, "you've been so good, haven't you? Done so well..."

He hushes you gently as he moves closer behind you, kneeling at the couch's edge, face level with your puffy cunny. Al-haitham remains quiet this time around, his non-slick covered hand patting your head lovingly.

"It's okay~ I'll take good care of you now, I'll clean you up all nice, alright?"

You only whine when he sinks his tongue into your pussy, lapping up your spilled juices and nipping at your reddened bud. Your body trembles with an absentminded moan when he sucks on your sore little clit, and he emits a noise of suprise as a new abundance of syrup leaks from your opening.

Al-haitham quirks up a brow, "Four times, now."

"Mercy! M-Mercy..!" You cry out.

"Oh," Lisa tuts demeaningly, "no, no, no dear one~ You see, you didn't quite seem to believe our intentions true when we offered ourselves to you. So it only seems right that we prove it, yes?"

You can't squirm away from Eula's mouth, her strength baffling as she keeps you stood still against the Grand Master's desk with ease. Amber mouths at the mounds of your breasts, obessed with how soft the fat of them are.

You whimper loudly when Eula curls her two fingers into your front wall, clenching down on her and nearly screaming when she thrusts them into you punishingly.

Jean can't help but watch in stunned silence of you, your voice and body ethereal. She can't wait to get a taste of her own as you shudder and gasp.

It was bad enough when Venti had his way with you earlier under Vanessa's tree, simultaneously teasing you and giving you everything you wanted.

He ran his mouth with words that were both endearingly sweet and pure debauchery, controlling the winds to graze at your hardened nipples with ghost like touches that left you spasming and breathless.

He'd shown you his choice of belonging to you through the intimate thrusts of his hips and sloppy, loving kisses across your body--he'd then guided you back to the gates of Mondstadt with the help of the wind to keep you balanced.

You cry when a thin zap of purple shocks your pulsing clit, cumming instantly while Eula's tongue soothes over it with the help of her cryo ability. Your lewd honey drips down your leg and onto the floor, and the blue haired girl sneers at the waste of it.

A whimper escapes you when Amber nips at your soft tit a little too harshly, and she murmurs a timid apology, looking up at you reverently before continuing.

"P-Please..!" You hate how they've all been able to make you cry with pleasure, as though they always knew just what they were doing to you, "it..-it hurts now..! A-Aaahhh..."

You let out a long, breathy whine as you cum again, tears steaming down your cheeks as the gentle wave of bliss washes over you. You almost miss Acting Grand Master Jean calling for someone to enter after a knock on the door.

Humiliation of your state causes you to flush and shut your teary eyes as Kaeya walks in, gaze latching onto you immediately.

He closes the door behind him, humming lowly at the sight.

His eye glints in dirty interest, a grin creeping up his lips at the sound of your whimpers and sloppy cunt.

"Oh? It's our turn already?"

"Kaeya! You're just in time," Lisa grins mischieviously, "I believe our dearly beloved is ready for something... thicker, now." She smiles as though her filthy implication were a casual statement of time.

You hate being the centre of attention, but fuck does it feel good. You hate feeling so vulnerable, but good god do they take care of you.

Maybe, just maybe you could allow yourself to indulge in their affections...

Nope.

Hate. You hate, hate, hate, hate hate it.

You whimper quietly, head bowed to hide your face from the prying eyes of the others seated around you.

You're back in the lands of Inazuma, in the very same place you were last time the picnic was set up. It was much more lavish this time around, based in the early evening with a gorgeous ocean view, lights strung up in the trees and scattered atop a few stable rocks.

The blankets laid down were much thicker this time, and the pillows larger and fluffier. The sunset paints the horizon gold and pink which fades into a rich purple and, eventually, the glimmering darkness of night.

You sit in Zhongli's lap, a spare blanket covering your bare lower half as you squirm on his throbbing cock. You could feel his other drooling pre-cum against your lower back.

The others had been coaxing you to eat your share of the platter, Navia and Wriothesly feeding you small portions since you were too shy to do so yourself.

Though ashamed and bashful, you can't help but clench and throb, and you fluster when Zhongli lets out a small groan from behind you.

Navia places a comforting hand on your covered knee.

"Beloved Creator, are you alright?" Her voice is soft, loving.

You swallow sharply, shoulders hunched and tense nervously from those watching.

"Your Grace?" You glance over at Diluc who huffs with a small blush of his own, "we'll take care of you."

Your cunt throbs, and Zhongli thrusts into you.

You yelp at the sudden motion, straightening up instinctively to balance yourself only for your most devoted to thrust into you again, and again, and again. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you seated, and the blanket slowly slips from your lap from the movement.

"A-Ah! Zhon--aahhh!"

Squelch, plap, slap, his fat cock hits the textured roof of your squishy insides and sends an overwhelming shock of pleasure through you. Throwing your head back with a lewd moan, both your embarassment and arousal increase tenfold at the sight of your most shameless worshippers touching themselves at the sight of you.

Others swallow roughly, barely holding themselves back with a single thread of dignity. Those of them watch with eyes that burn your body into memory, and the intensity both frightens and arouses you.

The better of them murmur and coo praises at you, causing your stomach to flutter and your pussy to gush.

You pant loudly when Ayato softly intructs you to breathe, and you squeal when Tartaglia reachs out to play with your pretty clit while rubbing his neglected cock.

"Pl..ease..! Hah..!"

You feel a pair of lips on your neck and whine, whimpering shamefully when Neuvillette starts whispering sweet praise into your ear, sucking on your skin softly. You white knuckle the thick blanket by your forcefully opened legs and clench your eyes shut in humiliation.

Your cunny starts to tingle with sparks of pleasure that strike your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you flush at the feeling of your sex juices trailing from your slit to your ass, soiling Zhongli's clothed lap and the pillows and fabric below.

"Hng! Cumming! AH!" You shriek, thrashing in their hold, "c-cumming! H-Help, 'm cumming-- oohhh~ Ohh~"

That weird prickly feeling coils in your tummy again, and you let out a lewd and bratty whine when they don't let up on their touching.

"S-Slow! PLEASE! F-Fuck! Feels funn-y~!"

When you slap at Childe's hand, your own are quickly restrained by Kazuha who simply smiles with red cheeks and mutters to you flowery reassurances.

The sound of your pussy is loud, it's noisy, and filthy. You emit a desperate, pleading wail, not knowing if your subconscious is trying to beg them to stop or to stay.

Saliva pools in your mouth then begins to hang open as your starry eyes roll into the back of your head, chest heaving.

Your thighs tremble and your fingers twitch--Kazuha intertwines them with his own, and you lock onto the comforting hold.

"G-Good!" You can't stop yourself from babbling, "m-makes me feel soOo goood~!"

"Oh, sweet one~" Yae Miko giggles.

"You understand that we choose you now, yes?" Ningguang hums with a teasing quip. Her eyes torn between your adorably lewd features and your swollen, glistening cunt.

"Relax, beloved. It's only us, your most faithful~"

"Mm, don't hold back, dearest."

"Can you moan for us, beloved? You sound just delicious when you moan!"

"Are you gonna cum for us?"

"It's not fair how they got a taste of you first~!"

"Hng..! A-ah, hah!"

"Oh-oh! Beloved, calm down, you're alright. Just let it happen.."

"Do you feel good, your Grace?"

"--c-cumming- cumming! Cumming..!"

A white hot blaze of heat crashes over you, and your ears ring as your body trembles in utter bliss. Your slick pussy squeezes and gushes with your lewd honey, and as your abused little pearl sears with an almost painful pleasure, your body squirts out your most powerful orgasm that soaks the blankets and the people surrounding.

Pleasure caused tears leave hot stains on your face, and your head lulls to the side tiredly. Your chest heaves for breath as you come down from your high, and it takes a few moments before the ringing finally stops and you can hear again.

Doting whispers and coos are the first thing you process, followed by something thick and hot leaking out of your stretched and now empty hole.

A hand caresses your head as many others touch on you innocently, checking in on you and taking care of you.

Someone holds a glass to your lips, and someone else helps you lean forwards to sip.

You startle at the feeling of a soft mouth coming to gingerly lick and suck at your sore pussy, and you let out a delirious whine.

Another acolyte hushes you gently, kissing you softly before another joins in peppering kisses all over your tired face to distract you from the one cleaning you up between your legs.

You still feel light headed from the embarassment of it all, but you've latched onto the pleasant tingling you feel when they look at you so adoringly--more lovingly than just in reverence.

No, actually.

You don't hate this at all.

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house-of-lovin · 1 year ago

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legally binded - 6

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 6: Met Gala and Miscommunication

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: SHADOWBAN IS A BITCH

Word Count: 7.2k+ (i dont know how this happened)

“Y/N! Over here, please! To your right!”

“One over the shoulder, please!”

“Can we get one straight head!”

Shouting and flashes are all you can hear once you step out of the van, one hand bunching up the large gown, the other in Link’s as he helps you down. You and Jenna had to take separate cars because your outfit was too large, a decision that you are mentally thanking the Gods.

There’s no way you can be around her right now.

Which is going to be a problem because you two have to make your first official red carpet appearance. Other than the usual eyes on you already; you are on the panel of hosts which means the attention on you two will be upped more so than usual. Not to mention, she’s also your date for the evening.

A fact that the media was anticipating. By the increasing decibel of the screaming around you as Jenna approaches, you knew then just how many people were truly watching your every move.

“Hi…” She says once she’s in earshot. The train of her custom coat was dragging on the ground as she walked.

“Hey.” You mumble, not looking at her.

“Can we not do this he–” She sighed at your tone.

“Let’s walk the carpet. I’m needed inside.” You cut off, extending your hand for her to take.

Clenching her jaw, she glanced at your open palm with a flat look before relenting; sliding her smooth hand into yours, grasping it tightly.

Almost too tightly, like she was trying to crush your ring-clad fingers.

But it'd be a lie to say that you didn’t miss the familiar grooves of her skin— even if she was crushing your hand at the moment.

“Ow, stop.” You grit.

Jenna merely kisses her teeth, but eases on her grip.

“Let’s get this over with.” You mumbled, tugging her along.

The sounds of both your heels clicking against the pavement and the incessant shouting from the crowd and media were all you can hear as you dragged the actress to walk past the other celebrities waiting in line to walk to the carpet.

You know Jenna wants to say something but one glance at your scowl and she knew better. Maybe imperceptible to most, but over these last few months, she’s learned to pick up on a few cues.

Like now, the slight downturn of your bottom lip, the crease between your brow and the clenched jaw were all signs that you were not in the mood.

“Y/N, wait.”

But you don’t. You merely keep walking until you’re both standing in the very front. “Don’t we need to wait our turn?”

You cast her a side glance. “No.” Then turn, spotting a familiar face.

The very same face of the person who organizes this whole gala.

“Y/N, darling. Don’t you and your woman look ravishing.” Anna Wintour walks to you both.

“Thank you, Anna. You look lovely tonight as well.” You plaster a large, pearly white smile; kissing the older woman on both cheeks.

Jenna feels the heat of the flashes on you three, instantly.

When Anna Wintour turns to her, she mimics your greetings, expressing her own gratitude for the invite.

“I’ll let you two walk the carpet. The press has been waiting eagerly for you two.” She winked before walking off.

You couldn’t even fight the blush forming on your cheeks if you tried. At least, you can blame it on the makeup you had on if anyone called it out.

“Let’s go?” You turn to the other actress.

Jenna nodded and you allowed her to lead you to the bottom of the large steps of the iconic museum.

Immediately, a flurry of photographs are taken and shouting of your and Jenna’s name is belted as you actively fight to not tear up.

The two of you pose expertly by yourselves before coming back together to show off your couple-themed outfit, obeying the directions from the photographers as they shout which position to pose in.

“You okay?” You glance down at Jenna as you were standing behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist when you realize she felt tensed under your touch.

You knew she dealt with anxiety at times, especially during very public events such as this, so you squeeze her waist reassuringly; letting her know that you're right here.

When she blinks up at you slowly, you curse yourself for feeling mesmerized. Her highlighted-freckled cheeks reflected the camera flashes back at you and the white carpet juxtaposed her dark, steampunk-esque outfit and suddenly, you are sure that you're staring at the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Yeah…” She reassured, softly placing her hand atop yours that was wrapped around her waist.

“That’s perfect guys!”

“Can we get a kiss from the couple!” Someone yells when they see Jenna meet your eyes, influencing the others to start their own slew of requests for PDA.

You freeze, not expecting them to be so immodest with their demands. But you don’t have time to make the decision for yourself because Jenna was making it for you.

She turns in your hold, slotting herself firmly against your side and placed her ring-clad fingers coolly on your neck, pulling you in for a delicate and modest kiss.

In quick, lens-fluttered successions the moment is captured in time.

You couldn’t even hear the screaming of the paparazzi get louder as the two of you are practically blinded by the camera shutters. Distantly you can hear the crowd of fans camping across the street screaming as well.

But it all sounded fuzzy when her lips pressed against yours.

When she pulled away, you were still staring at her lips, breathing a bit laboured. The pounding in your chest intensified when her eyes flickered to yours; trying to read your reaction.

You don’t have time to think about it because you’re hurriedly being ushered up to the top of the steps where an interviewer was waiting overeagerly.

“Wow, you two are surely going to be the talk of the night. Tell me everything, who are you two wearing?” The enthusiastic and slightly familiar-looking lady spoke into the mic before holding it up to you and Jenna.

“I am wearing a reconstructed tuxedo jacket dress by Thom Browne and Y/N is actually wearing a custom, one-of-a-kind collaboration, a Prada and Thom Browne ball gown,” Jenna answers for both of you, wrapping an unsuspecting arm around your waist.

The interviewer’s eyes sparkled with delight at the information, “Just amazing. The two of you look like a million bucks. Tell me, what was the inspiration behind these two looks? ‘Cause to me, it’s giving goth wedding at the Met Gala.”

She turns to the camera, nodding approvingly.

You couldn’t help the laugh that releases from your lips, nodding, “I guess it is giving that… but really, I have to give credit to Jenna. She’s the one who thought of the bride and groom concept. I just showed up.”

“Am I sensing you’re the brains in this relationship?” The interviewer teases, leaning into Jenna, who nodded politely.

“Yeah — I guess you can say that.” She gives into the joke.

“Wow… I’m right here.” You play into it as well.

“Now, I gotta ask 'cause they’ll get mad if I don’t. But any comments on the Vegas incident and rumours of your arrest regarding the drug allegations?” She whispered the last part.

At least, she made it sound like she was apologetic.

Clenching your jaw, you tried to plaster a tight-lipped smile about to give an answer. But before you could open your mouth, Jenna squeezed your waist, cutting in. She glanced at you worriedly for a moment, before speaking seriously into the mic; keeping her hold on your midsection; firm.

“The accusations against Y/N are not true and quite frankly, the backlash she’s been getting online, I feel, is unwarranted and unfair. That’s all we’re saying about the matter, thank you.” Then she pulled you inside and away from the vicious teeth of the piranhas, not bothering to listen to the interviewer’s sputtering protests.

Jenna tugged you down a desolate hallway, ignoring everyone else in the way. Frantically whipping her head to try to find a secluded corner. When she does, she pressed you against a column; hidden from the view of prying eyes.

Only then, did you feel like you could breathe, not even realizing how tense your shoulders had been.

“Are you okay?” She scanned you worriedly; grasping your hand in a tender manner; swiping her thumb across the skin.

“Yeah… yeah — fine.” you glance down at your hands, squeezing them unconsciously.

"Are you sure?" She asked, still studying your startled features.

Your ability to swiftly hide your real emotions should be studied really, cause Jenna blinked and suddenly you were deadpan as if nothing happened.

"Yes. I'm fine. It's what I signed up for." You muttered the last part.

The sigh Jenna lets out is heavy and annoyed. For a moment, you think you see her eye twitch.

“Can you not say that phrase, right now." She chided.

Scoffing, you answer back, "You wanna talk about not doing something? What about what you said during the interview? You know it’s just gonna make things worse."

Her jaw dropped before laughing hollowly. “Are you serious? What, you wanted me to stay silent?”

“No! Just—“ You sighed, clenching your jaw, “you should’ve let me handle it.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away. “We’ll talk about it later… if you don’t run away.” Muttering the last part, she sauntered off; heading to your table where Enrique and Link were sitting — your posse for the night.

Those two are in for a treat, you thought.

You couldn’t even chase her down even if you wanted to because a Gala worker was already ushering you backstage to go over last-minute notes before the show started.

—

Jenna leaned back against the stiff, rigid chairs, fiddling with the fancy rolled napkin on her china dish, trying to suppress her sigh.

“You okay?” Link nudged her elbow after noticing the actress' slumped shoulders.

Jenna and Link have formed an… alliance of sorts. Since the two of you have been spending more time together, she’s formed an unsuspecting bond with your closest friend and confidant.

He was someone that she felt she could trust because you trusted him wholeheartedly.

“Mhmm.” She hummed absentmindedly, continuing to pick on the napkin just watching how her glossy french-manicured black nails reflected the light back from the wisping flame on the table.

“What’s up? Is it Y/N?” He glanced over his shoulder, trying to spot you.

“It's nothing…” She dismissed.

"Oh, you guys are really fighting? I thought this was just one of your petty arguments, again." He saw through her instantly.

She didn't even answer, just elected to roll her eyes as a response.

"What about Coachella? You guys were fine then, you even kissed, remember?" He raised a brow in question.

Jenna’s forehead creased, frowning. “Of course, I do. But then I learned that she may get arrested? Y/N never brought it up, once. I never even knew if it was true. So sorry, if I’m a little mad about being left out of something important — something that affects me too.”

The assistant ran a rough hand down his jaw, exhausted. “Look, no one’s saying you can’t have feelings on the matter — they’re valid. But come on, Y/N can’t catch a break.”

“Who’s fault is that?” She whispered back harshly, clenching the napkin in her hand too tight.

Link’s eyes raised in shock. “Huh… I guess you really did make up your mind. Feel what you feel, but all I’m saying is hear her out.”

Then he stands, walking away from the table.

Maybe off to find you? Who knows, all Jenna feels is a slight pressure forming in between her brows and the night’s barely started.

She had a feeling she was in for a long one.

Jenna didn't have time to sulk about it because the Gala was starting. A man in a tuxedo walked to centre stage with a mic in hand. “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight and supporting the Met's Costume Institute. Now, can we give a warm welcome to this year’s panel who made this Met Gala possible… introducing…”

Jenna sighed lifting her head up, watching as you appeared from the backstage, walking elegantly with the other co-hosts and Anna Wintour.

“Penelope Cruz, Michaela Coel, Roger Federer, Dua Lipa, Y/N L/N and Vogue’s Anna Wintour.” The presenter named.

You send the room a show-stopping smile, squinting when the spotlights hit your retinas at an unpleasant angle. When your eyes settled onto the crowd they instantly meet Jenna’s but you’re averting them just as quickly.

She pretended not to notice.

The room cheers for all of you up on stage but she doesn’t hear the introductory speech each of you give.

Not even yours because all she could do was stare at you.

You looked regal.

And that frustrated Jenna because she's supposed to be mad at you.

But she had to admit, a small part of her liked riling you up and making you mad.

The furrow in your brow and frown on your lips when you are, is a face that Jenna’s secretly grown fond of.

But since the two of you have gotten closer, you’ve shown her that you indeed do have a heart, albeit a little cold and prickly at times.

Despite that, Jenna found herself still wanting to hold your delicate heart even if it hurts.

But there’s only so much she can do when the Universe decides to throw another curve ball toward you.

So, no.

You’re not off the hook just yet.

She watched as the crowd dispersed when the speech finished and stars and celebrities from all entertainment forms kick off the night of socializing. Jenna noticed you instantly get pulled to a far corner of the room by some executives.

Jenna didn’t feel like doing the shop talk so she elected to stay in her seat; no matter how anti-social she seemed.

“Jen, we need to socialize... I know you don’t want to, but you know.” Enrique nudged.

“Okay, okay…”

And like the actress she is, she plastered on her best smile and floated around the room, making sure everyone saw her face.

At one point she found herself actually enjoying a conversation.

“Your date is busy tonight.” A voice commented, sliding into the seat beside her.

“Olivia.” Jenna sighed in relief at seeing a familiar face, swiftly leaning over to give her friend a hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Jenna.” The singer embraced back.

“Are you at this table?” She asked once she’d pulled away.

“Yeah, I think this is the Thom Browne table actually.” Olivia turned around to examine the fancy stock card with calligraphy writing.

“Great…” Jenna nodded, already feeling her spirits lift a bit at seeing a familiar face.

She placed the card back onto the table, “Enjoying your night?”

“Yeah… it’s only my second time here but it’s always nice to be invited.” Jenna replied honestly, feeling the tension loosen within her at being reunited with an old friend.

“What about her?” Olivia nudged, nodding to you standing across the room, exchanging pleasantries with a few musician friends.

“She’s been very busy tonight.” Jenna comments, watching as you work the room. Everyone had their bodies turned to you as you gestured animatedly. Even from afar, she can see your confident posture and slightly raised chin. Briefly, she wonders how you make it look so easy. “But I think she’s enjoying herself too.”

“Good…” Olivia smiled.

“Hi! what’re we talking about?” Florence Pugh slides in.

“Florence, hi! Nice to see you again.” She leaned to kiss the other woman’s cheeks — they exchange the usual pleasantries and compliments.

“Our Met Gala experience…” Olivia answered.

“Oh! How is it, you reckon?” She sipped on her vodka martini with the etiquette of a royal. “This is my first one.”

“I’m having a good time..” Jenna answered.

“Sensing a but?” The bald woman waved her manicured hand.

“Oh no…” Jenna flushed at being called out, glancing as you talked to the likes of: Dua Lipa, Usher, Jack Harlowe. “No buts…”

“Alright...” Florence relents, sipping on her martini. She glances in Jenna’s line of sight spotting you.

“Oh! Hailee!” Florence kisses her teeth, “that girl told me she wasn’t going to come. Excuse me girls.”

Florence muttered apologies, drifting over to your group. Jenna watched as the Brit strolled over, her line of sight drifting back over to you, embracing this Hailee with a bright genuine smile and a grip on the other woman’s waist far too low for someone who’s supposed to be in a very public relationship.

With furrowed brows, she watched on in confusion as you started catching up, still in each other’s arms as if two lovers reunited after a long war.

Jenna’s throat started feeling funny.

Forcing herself to look away, she grabbed the glass of water to drink to ease the unpleasant feeling.

“Is that Hailee Steinfeld?” Olivia asked from beside her, tilting her head to the side as she watched on as well.

“I think so…”

“Isn’t she Y/N’s ex?” The other titled their head to the side in question and Jenna found herself spinning back around in her seat to find you across the room.

You were now talking in a circle, but Hailee was standing close by your side.

Olivia glanced at Jenna’s sudden reaction. “Uh sorry—I didn’t mean that with bad intentions..”

“It’s alright…” Jenna mumbled, still watching your every move.

“Sorry, girlie,” Olivia mumbled, then shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I think they ended on good terms.”

Oh did you? Jenna thought. She’d never heard of an ex.

“That’s nice…” Jenna tried to mutter indifferently. Keyword: Tried.

“Are you jealous?” The singer asked, laughing a little.

“No!” Jenna flushed from the question.

“I wouldn’t worry about it… I saw you two on the carpet. I wish someone looked at me like that.” Olivia winked and then grabbed her drink, walking away.

All Jenna could do was stare holes into you hoping you felt it.

But you didn’t.

—

“Excuse me.��

Excusing yourself from the group, you step back, glancing around the large room. Dimmed chandelier lighting hung from the ceilings and an assortment of fabrics and flowery littered the Gala’s tall walls.

You were in charge of this year's decor, working with world-renowned interior designers for the annual gala and not to brag but you quite outdid yourself.

The space looked amazing.

During your once-over of the room, you spot Jenna sitting by herself at your table. Immediately, a pang of guilt rumbles in your chest. She looked kind of lonely just sitting there, people-watching.

Sighing, you contemplated your choices.

On one hand, you could be the more mature one and make the first move, save face for the night or you can stay true to character and ignore your obvious tensions with the other actress.

But if one more person looked at you pitifully, the word cocaine on the tip of their tongue but never actually saying it out loud then you might just pull out your own damn hair.

At least some music industry friends patted you on the back and said ‘happens at least once’ — that did not make you feel better but the sentiment counts?

You walk in slow steps toward Jenna, silently sliding into the empty seat next to her. Her head snapped to yours immediately.

“Hi…” You greet with a tight-lipped smile. “Enjoying your night?”

“Mhmm.” Jenna hummed, looking away.

You sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

“Can we just… table this, for later? I don’t want to fight.” You frowned, calling a truce.

Jenna glanced at you, only offering a reluctant, “Okay..”

Knowing that was probably the best you’re gonna get from her, you settled against the chair and let silence take over as you join in on the people-watching.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Jenna asked, not being able to stand the silence. She can take the fighting, the banter, the bickering, but this type of silence with you? It sends an unsettling feeling within Jenna that she didn’t enjoy.

“Mhmm. I think so. Everyone seems to be having a good time, so I think I can finally relax.” You commented as you scanned the room.

“Give yourself some credit, everything looks amazing. I can tell you picked the centrepieces.” She snorted, picking up the ornamental piece.

You laughed, letting your walls down. “What? Too much?”

“Too bright and flashy…” She scrunched her nose, the sparkling item clinked loudly as she held it with her ring-covered fingers.

“You’d just prefer if everything came in the colour black.” You took the item from her hand, scanning it yourself. “I don't know I think it adds to the ambiance.”

“Black goes with everything.” She defended.

You send her a knowing look. "I rest my case."

Your short-lived banter with the other actress was cut short when a Gala employee promptly explained that the Thom Browne table was needed for photos and videos for the Met’s ad campaign.

The two of you take solos, couples and group photos with the Thom Browne table; showing off your outfit for tonight.

“We look good…” Jenna noted – looking at the monitor as your pictures were pulled up.

Leaning forward, unconsciously leaning over Jenna’s shoulder, you looked. “Yeah, we do.”

Jenna looked up at you, wanting nothing more than to press back into you — but nope, not this time. Instead, she forced herself to avert her gaze and walk out of the room, not bothering to wait for you.

Trying not to make a scene, you praise the entire photography team, thanking them for their time and slid out of the room, speed-walking to Jenna.

“Are you going to act like this the whole night?” You fall into step beside her, walking down the empty hallway leading back to the main room.

Jenna stayed silent. Only the clicking of heels on the marble tiles bouncing off the tall walls can be heard.

“Jenna…” You sighed, trying again, “What happened to tabling it?.”

“I-I can't right now, Y/N." She frowned deeper and your heart clenched; steps faltering at her words. You stayed rooted as she walked further down the hall, leaving you behind.

“Trouble in paradise?” You spun on your heels, immediately spotting Hailee – who also happened to be your ex-girlfriend.

“The hell? Where’d you come from?” You clutched your chest in fright, staring at the brunette woman.

She just laughed and stood beside you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was on my way outside and I just saw that look and… well. I felt like I couldn’t ignore it.”

When you looked at her, all you saw was softness in her eyes; sympathy. But this time it didn’t feel bad coming from her. Because at one point in your life, Hailee knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Everything is fine.” You lie, averting your eyes. There are very few people that could read you well. It seems like Hailee is still one of those people.

“Mhmm…” She didn’t push.

“I used to hate it when you did that.” You chuckled prompting Hailee to laugh and nod in agreement.

You and Hailee dated when you were both very active in the Marvel Universe.

Real loose on the word: dated. Because well you didn’t technically.

She was filming Hawkeye and you were filming Spider-Man: No Way Home and you both just happened to be filming in both New York and Atlanta at roughly the same time.

Somehow, you and Hailee found yourselves growing closer while filming your respective projects. The two of you grabbed lunch together every day, which turned into dinners at the other’s place, then sleepovers when it got too late to go home and then eventually, a relationship.

There was never an explicit conversation about being together, but you two acted like it anyway. You two even wrote a few songs together.

But, like all things in your life, you self-sabotage. You couldn’t allow yourself to really be in with Hailee like she wanted; like she needed.

So she ended things with you right after you both wrapped your projects. There was no bad blood and you knew that the girl breaking your heart was making the right decision because you can’t give her what she wants.

You two are better off friends anyway.

“Yeah, you did…” She laughed. “Still gonna say it though.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing heavily. It’s just Hailee, you don’t need to put up a facade. Not like it’d matter if you did anyway, she can read you so easily. “Wouldn’t expect anything different from you…”

Hailee glanced around the empty hallway again for a moment, thinking. “Hey… wanna go out for a smoke?”

It certainly beats having to sit in silence beside Jenna.

“Sure, why not?”

–

“So… You and Jenna Ortega?” Hailee passes the lit cigarette after taking a puff, a cloud of smoke escaping her lips after exhaling.

You grab the bud when she passes it, “Yeah…” Inhaling, deep and long, you started to feel the familiar plight of light-headedness as you visibly untensed your shoulders.

“How’d that happen?” She asked, looking over the balcony and onto the traffic below.

“Our team’s introduced us…” You answered honestly.

This was the first time since Vegas that you’ve been around colleagues and friends in the business. You haven’t exactly had time to come up with a better excuse as to how you met Jenna. “And then yeah… we just started talking.”

“You sound like such a guy…” She snorted, taking the cigarette from your fingers.

“And you sound like Link.”

“I saw him earlier, he seems good. I’m glad you kept him around, someone’s got to look after you.” She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of honesty and sadness in them that you could read.

“Yeah. He’s definitely kept me standing on my feet these last few months.”

“And Jenna? Has she kept you standing these last few months too?” She asked inquisitively, scanning you and for a moment, you were stunned in silence.

Your life has certainly changed a lot since you met the younger actress.

What you and Jenna have is something you’ve never felt around someone before. You two shouldn’t work; you’re highly volatile together and so opposite in the way you view life but somehow, it still worked.

Like the ying to your yang or whatever shit they say.

Then she kissed you under that smoggy night at Coachella and you haven’t been able to keep her off your mind since.

Ah, Coachella. It seemed so long ago, despite it only being a mere week.

You two still haven’t talked about it in the midst of these arrest headlines.

It was like the elephant in the room surrounded by much larger elephants.

You remember the taste of her kisses. They were way softer than you ever imagined; not that you imagined it a lot… and the way her skin burned against yours when she tugged you closer?

You can pass away tomorrow and you’d be content with the life you’ve lived whenever you thought of that blissful night spent in each other’s arms.

There’s something about the other actress that made you unconsciously lower your walls. Walls that you’ve spent a long time building to hide the parts that you want to close off to the rest of the world.

But somehow, someway, Jenna sees through so easily even if she didn’t know it herself.

You’re not quite certain you’re ready for what potential you and Jenna can have if you truly opened yourself up to her.

Her constant presence has been surprising and terrifying all at the same time. It felt comforting to be around her and her family. Not that you would ever say that out loud — god you wonder what her parents think about you now.

“Especially her.” You find yourself answering honestly anyway, blinking to meet Hailee’s eyes.

Her smile is kind and soft, seemingly pleased. “Good. I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like her. I can tell she’s special… don’t fuck it up.”

You blushed under the weight of her compliments. “Oh. I–I won’t.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing you’d never been one to gush about your feelings. “Come on, let's head back. Jenna might be looking for you.”

Then she winked, throwing away the finished cigarette.

“You’re annoying.” But the singer/actress just laughed.

When you make it back to the party, Hailee is bidding you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze, muttering “don’t be a stranger” in your ear.

The first thing you do when Hailee leaves is briskly walk to the bar. Feeling like a drink is very much needed after all that…

“Tequila soda, please. Make that a double.” You lean against the bar top.

“Where have you been?” Jenna slides in out of nowhere, startling you. “People have been asking me about you.”

“Grabbing some air…” You trail off, scanning her for a moment; noting her tightly wound brows creating a crease on her forehead.

“With Hailee?” She crossed her arms, raising a brow.

“Yeah, we went out for a smoke.” You answered honestly, raising a brow of your own.

“A smoke?” She asked, fingers tightly gripping the fabric of her blazer dress.

“Yeah… you know, a cigarette?” You shrugged, turning to the approaching bartender. “Thanks… “

“I’d have asked you…” You spoke after picking up your drink, taking a moment to scan her head to toe. “But you don’t seem like the smoking type.”

Then you take a sip, ignoring Jenna’s twitching eye and scoff, scanning the room and upon initial glance you already see a few eyes watching you and Jenna closely — making you tense.

Without much thought to your next move, you stepped into her space, wrapping an arm around her corset-fitted waist making her flinch, uncrossing her arms. “What are you—“

You cut off her snippy tone, leaning close to her ear; nose in her dark hair.

“People are watching…” You whisper.

Immediately, she’s placing a hand on your chest, pushing you lightly but you don’t budge. You decide to up the ante when you still see the nosy eyes; obviously talking about you and Jenna.

You leave a litter of light-feathered kisses up and down the side of her neck. “Stop being so tense…”

“You’re taking advantage of the situation…” She muttered but tilted her head to the side allowing you more access to her skin.

From the outside, it looked like nothing more than two people in love.

“I’m playing my part for the press…” You bite her earlobe, lightly. Jenna bites her lip to refrain from uttering a moan. This is definitely not the time or the place. “You should too since you love to throw that word around.”

“What—what does that mean?” She asked, breathing a bit laboured the longer you continued your ministrations on her neck. By now, she was grasping your outfit with a death grip.

“Nothing…” You run your teeth against her skin, your whispers turning into low breaths, “Just saying… it seems like your favourite word these days.”

“You sound mad about that…” She whispers back challengingly.

Jenna was trying everything not to moan out loud in this very packed room.

“Mhmm. Do I?” You grip her waist, flushing her against you. The whimpered moan she lets out in your right ear when you do has your legs shaking.

“Just a bit.” She puffed out, brokenly.

“Good.” You growled, biting the spot behind her ear and running your tongue against the skin. It wasn’t enough to bruise the other actress but it’s surely enough to send a message. When you pull back, you brush her fringe back with a delicate and hesitant touch.

Jenna’s eyes were hollowed and dazed, silently tracking your fingers as they moved her hair aside and if you two weren’t in the middle of a fight, you’d tease her over it.

“I think dinner’s about to start… wanna head back?” You asked, watching as she just stared into your eyes with now, a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yeah…” She clears her throat, stepping away from your hold, letting your delicate hand fall limply by your side. You try not to put too much meaning on the rejection.

She walked ahead of you, leading you back to your table but she never looked back at you once.

–

The rest of the Met was spent with very little eating, a lot of socializing and saving face. This time, Jenna had stuck by your side as you made shop talk; introducing her as your girlfriend as everyone gushes about the two of you and the headlines you’ve been making as a couple online. You kept a hand around her waist as you two practically waltzed from group to group, in case there were ever eyes.

Neither of you mention when you keep your hand on her waist, even when no one was looking anymore.

But now, you are back at the hotel with your glam team and stylists getting you ready for the after-parties.

Thoughts of your talk with Jenna are put on the back burner as you desperately hoped to drink and party away the rest of the night; hoping you can still make somewhat of it, good, enjoyable even.

God knows you deserve it after the bullshit you’ve been receiving from everyone and their mothers about your night in Vegas.

You sat in front of the vanity mirror as your team hurriedly bustles behind you.

Fishing for your phone, you pull up Instagram and catch up on other people's posts for tonight. Since the days started, you've been pulled left and right with rehearsals and fittings and finally the actual Gala.

You haven't even so much as held your phone in your own hand.

Photos of you and Jenna have been posted on a minute-to-minute basis from the moment you stepped out of the hotel to just 20 minutes ago when you were both making your way back to get ready for the after-parties.

A certain video catches your eye.

It was of Jenna being escorted out into the hotel. (You two had to take your respective vans back, as well.) She was sending the fans waiting by the hotel, a soft and charming smile as she greeted them. You were staring at the video for so long that you didn’t even see the caption.

‘DID YOU SEE HER LOCKSCREEN?! <;3’

You see the next few comments below the caption of the video.

‘Stop Y/N and Jenna with her niece? This is the cutest photo ever’

‘They have kids already?’

‘IM CRYING JENNA’S LOCKSCREEN IS Y/N AND HER NIECE’

‘ISNT THIS THE PICTURE THAT JENNA’S MOM POSTED??”

‘ACTUAL PARENTS’

Oh shit, you are her lock screen.

When did she even send herself those photos? They were taken on your phone.

And more importantly, why did she make you and her niece, her lock screen? You thought the two of you were merely bantering when you had said you were going to make her yours.

“How much longer are you gonna stare at that video?” Link asked from behind you making you jump, almost throwing the phone in the air.

“The fuck? Why is everyone sneaking up on me tonight…” You muttered bitterly, shooting him a glare through the mirror when you see his smirk.

You’re not sure if your pounding heartbeat is from the scare or from the thought of Jenna having you as her lock screen.

“You’re Jenna’s lock screen?” He asked in a teasing tone. You don’t reply just opting to close your eyes and groan as a response.

He laughed. “Doesn’t seem like PR behaviour to me.”

“Stop.” You grit.

But Link just howls, too amused by your flushed demeanour.

He’s seen you in many forms.

At your highest, lowest, best and brightest, and even when you’ve been deep in the trenches. He’s seen it all. But this, you flustered over a girl? Never happened, ever. You’ve never even been smitten enough with someone to be flustered over them. Not even Hailee and that woman is a goddess.

First time for everything, Link thinks.

“Come on, change into this damn suit and make up with Jenna so she can be your woman.” He winked, still with that mischievous smirk. Keeping in theme with tonight, he holds up a Prada x Thom Browne two-piece suit made just for the after-party.

“If you want to keep your legs, I’d run in the next two seconds.” You glare, voice dropping seriously.

He hung up the suit bag on the coat hanger and swiftly walked out of the room. You ignore your team’s snickers in the back, getting up to go change in the bathroom.

Scanning yourself one last time in the full-length mirror, you look pretty hot, if you had to say so.

You blink away Link’s words and how you suddenly want to see Jenna’s reaction to your outfit. Pulling the bathroom door open, you step out and immediately take notice to the lack of bustle in the room.

Actually, the lack of people in the room.

All except one person, sitting by the couch, waiting.

“Hey… I thought we were meeting downstairs?” The creak of the door being pulled shut behind you was the only noise in the room.

Jenna blinked at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “We were– we are.”

She shed off her blazer dress and the long train that followed, instead, she’s now wearing what was under and if you weren’t trying to be respectful, you’d be shamelessly staring at how perfectly that corset fit her like a glove.

Ignore that.

You raised a questioning brow, “What’s up then?”

But she said nothing and stood from her seat, walking in slow-clinking strides toward you. When she stops in front of you, she raises her hands to fiddle with your tie; not looking in your eyes.

“Tie’s crooked.” She didn’t explain further, choosing to retie the tie for you.

“Thanks…” You trailed off, staring at how concentrated she looked doing such a menial task.

She must’ve heard the embarrassingly wispy tone cause when she looks up she’s giving you the softest look and you’re reminded of your first kiss at Coachella.

But clearly, this wasn’t Coachella because while lost in your daydream, unbeknownst to you, Jenna was fighting her own internal monologue; scolding herself for acting soft towards you despite her angry feelings. But when she looked up and caught you staring at her lips…

“Ow, fuck…” Your neck jerked forward, making Jenna flinch, breaking out of her own trance.

“Shit– sorry.” She unfastened the knot, swiftly. “Sorry, I didn't mean to make it that tight.”

You coughed out slightly, and for a guilty moment, Jenna didn’t know if she should feel happy or bad about being the cause.

“Sorry…” Jenna mumbled again, stepping back from you, no matter how much colder she felt.

She was here for a reason.

“It’s okay.” You reassured, swallowing deeply.

“Um–where’d everyone go?” You asked, remembering the once full and busy room.

“I sent them away. We need to talk.”

You raised a brow at the tone of her demand. “You want to do this… before the afterparties?”

Jenna pulled a face like she couldn't believe you were asking that. “Yes? Why, is there somewhere more important you needed to be?”

“What? No! I didn’t say that!” You defended then sighed, “But come on, Jenna, it’s the Met Gala afterparty… you waited the whole day to bring this up, why can’t we just wait until after?”

She stayed silent, crossing her arms.

You were confused until you took a second to scan her eyes, immediately reading the guilt swirling in them.

Your heart drops.

“You think I’m gonna go off the rails tonight or something?” You accused.

Jenna tiredly ran her hands on her face, “No Y/N, I’m just saying... this is the first party you’ve been to since Vegas so I’m sorry if I’m just a bit concerned.” She huffed, arms dropping limply by her side.

The laugh you let out is short and painful. “You call this concerned? ‘Cause from where I’m standing it feels more like an ambush. You don’t reply to my texts for days, you land in New York and you don’t try to see me. Then, when I bring it up you shut me down! How is that fair Jenna!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me…” She gritted, a warning glint in her eye appearing as her voice dropped.

You stared at her for a few moments before, sighing annoyedly. “Sorry…” You apologize begrudgingly.

“And you wanna talk about not replying for days? What about after SNL?” Jenna knows she’s being petty and nitpicking your words but she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried.

She feels herself losing her footing on the idea of a calm, mature conversation the longer you two argued. There was just something about being around you that made her lose all sense of rational and level-headed thinking.

“Not this again…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

Jenna scoffed at your reaction. “Yes, this again.”

“I already told you that Jake needed me back for Coachella. Remember? Where I was performing?”

Jenna laughed dryly. “That is not what I’m talking about Y/N. I’m talking about the thumbs-up you left on my message after I asked if you got back to L.A. safely. You practically ghosted me."

Yeah… petty.

“Thumbs up?” You asked confused, trying to rack your brain. "Ghosted you?"

Jenna’s offended laugh was not one she could contain. “You are such an asshole.“

“Oh okay, I can’t raise my voice but you can call me names?”

Jenna's decided she's heard enough, turning swiftly on her heels to walk away.

“Uh hello—we’re not done here!” You follow after her.

“Yes, I think we are!” Jenna declared behind her shoulder.

“Says who?” You barked.

“Says me!”

You scoffed. “Why did you kiss me at Coachella?”

Jenna stopped in her tracks and turned around to face you upon hearing the question.

The silence is stifling. But she remained unmoving because why did she kiss you? Well, she knows the answer to that.

But she’s not ready to admit it yet — especially to you.

“For the press. There were people watching.” Eye contact unwavering as she spewed that lie.

You don’t say anything for a few moments — you don’t even call her bluff about your private moment in the tent where there was definitely no was watching.

“Maybe we should spend the night apart.” Was your answer, staring at her with the same intensity. “Go to different parties.”

You think that as actors, you’d both be able to read each other well enough. Except neither of you noticed the hurt in each other’s eyes.

“If that’s what you want.” Jenna replied, before turning on her heel and walking out the door.

shadowban can’t keep me away for long…

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#legally binded #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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taintedcigs · 1 year ago

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SIX: ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES

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✦ summary: in which the truth about steve's party is revealed and eddie leaves reader another note (wc: 8.6k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FIST FIGHT?!?, HUGE WARNING FOR BRUISES AND AN ABSIVE RELATIONSHIP!!!, mention of bruises, mention of shoving someone, BILLY IS ABSIVE, if this content makes you uncomfortable lmk so i can make a summary of it, or just skip the flash back (but its like half of the chapter>:() chrissy is horrible, BILLY is even more horrible, chrissy says some classist shit!!, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys ily thank u for always being so helpful w everything i hope u like this chapter bb!! not proof-read srry ignore mistakes !! and as i said this is a heavy chapter so lmk if any of u need a summary on the flashback. and im so sorry for making chrissy such a villain i actually rlly love her characterr >:(

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

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FIVE YEARS AGO.STEVE’S PARTY.

Twenty minutes. You’ve been waiting in line for the bathroom at Steve’s stupid party for the last twenty minutes. Even plenty of people ahead of you had frustratedly groaned and left by now. But you weren’t going to give up that easy.

A muffled string of curses filtered through the door before she turned the lock. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a glimpse of Chrissy's face. She gave you a slight smile, and cluelessly, your face lit up. “Oh, thank god! Can you please let me in, I left my jacket in there.” You giggled, words tangled to each other as you made a clumsy attempt to slip past her, but she closed the door further.

With furrowed brows, you looked up at her. “Uh, I’m busy in here,” She giggled nervously, head tilting towards the side. “Oh,” You murmured.

“OH!” The realization was slow to hit you. She was with someone. You started grinning childishly. “Who’s the lucky guy?” You quipped your brows excitedly, causing Chrissy to stammer.

You tried to pry open the door, brows still wiggling but Chrissy didn’t let you, mumbling something about being embarrassed. “Oh, come on, Chrissy…” You murmured, still grappling with her to open the door.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about—” you began with a childlike giggle, attempting to open the door even wider.

Your giggles were quick to die down when the door fell open, no words dared to come out of your lips as you finally saw who Chrissy was with. Billy. Soberness overcame you just at the sight of Billy’s disheveled hair, and Chrissy’s swollen plump lips.

Your best friend and your boyfriend.

Your eyes blinked rapidly, desperately wishing it was all a hallucination. The reality of the situation was slow to hit you, your vision blurred uncontrollably, throat tightening, and causing you to feel stuck, almost paralyzed.

With a gulp, you were quick to take a step back, ignoring them calling your name as you turned back, forgetting all about the jacket you were supposed to get back when your legs felt so wobbly. You could hear the chatter outside the door get louder, everyone else taking a peak at what just happened. The whispers and gasps of everyone around you felt like mocking echoes.

You didn’t even know what to feel first. Anger? Jealousy? Sadness? Embarrassment?

It was a mix of all four and your chest hurts, tears welled up in your eyes, burning down your cheeks as your breaths came in shallow gasps, you couldn’t make any sense of it, and you couldn’t fucking understand it.

You felt it, felt betrayal like a physical sensation, like there was a void in your chest. And you could sense that Billy was running after you, trying to catch up to you, but you resisted the temptation to slow down, your anger acting as a protective shield.

“Baby, I swear nothing happened.” He exclaimed, desperation lacing his voice. Your eyes rolled instinctively, head tuning out the words that were too little, too late.

“Please, just listen to me she kissed me I didn’t! I tried to push her off—” You shouldn’t turn around, you definitely shouldn’t turn around and give him that satisfaction.

But you do.

“For twenty minutes?!? You tried to push her off for twenty fucking minutes?” You yell back bitterly.

“It isn’t what you think, please just let me explain!”

“Twenty fucking minutes, Billy!” You spat, pain quick to turn into anger. “Do you really think I’m that dumb?” Your fingers discarded your hair in anger, everything you knew to be true wasn’t anymore.

You knew what you had with Billy was fucked up, it wasn’t a normal nor a healthy relationship, but it was familiar and you were used to it, used to him. A relationship with this many ups and downs became your version of normalcy, even though it shouldn’t have.

No matter what happened, you thought he loved you, all those promises he whispered into your ear while you slept comfortably on his chest, all the times he murmured that he loved you, that he could never imagine being with anyone else, a whole fucking lie.

And it hurt.

Because you knew how hard it would be to walk away from this. You knew you couldn’t break away from him. You needed something to desperately pull you away. Show you that you deserved better than this.

No one would love you more than he did. He told you that a thousand times because it was true. He would do anything and everything for you. And you didn’t know why that enticed you, why being in such a fucked up situation hurt you in the best way possible, like an intoxicating yet destructive obsession.

And anyway, why would anyone even love you? You were a mess, a fuck up, nothing you did ever amounted to anything, and you knew that, you knew you were destined to be this way, to be with someone who constantly hurt you. Nothing you could do would be enough to get you out of the mess that was your mind.

“I would never do that to you, never.” His eyes were glossy, mirroring yours, you could tell when he lied to you, and this wasn’t one of those times. And you hated that your gaze softened with that because you wanted to believe him.

You knew he was flirty, you knew that the second you started dating Billy; from the countless times he flirted with the waitress when he took you to dinner, how he always got a little too close with the female lifeguards, how he charmed all the moms in Hawkins with a slight wink, it was a script you knew all too well. And you kept your mouth shut, tolerated it, only because he always brushed it off as nothing.

You didn’t mind it because he loved you, he told you he did, and you believed him. The countless arguments, the accidental bruises, name-callings, punches in the wall, you forgave it all. Because he loved you, he told you that love made him this way, it made him this insane and angry. And you let him make you believe that his erratic behavior was love, until today.

Because this was different, this was Chrissy. Your supposed best friend. Yes, Billy probably didn’t start making out with her, but he surely wasn’t eager to finish it either.

The betrayal cut deeper than any argument or bruise; it was a wound inflicted by the two people you believed loved you unconditionally.

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, arms crossing against your chest as you could feel your face burn up with anger, tears drying out. “You are something else,” you uttered, disappointment and resentment flavoring your words.

“I don’t want to ever see you again, Billy, and I fucking mean it.”

“Calm down,” he whispered, a feeble attempt to pacify you.

“No! I am not going to fucking ‘calm down’. You—you fucking cheated on me w-with Chrissy!” Your voice wavered, and you hated it, your anger wasn’t powerful enough to wash away the pain you felt, and tears were stinging your eyes again.

“Jesus how many times do I have to tell you she fucking kissed me! I-I didn’t fuckin’ cheat!” He defended but you shook your head. “And, anyway, didn’t you fucking kiss that freak?”

A lump formed in your throat, a bitter taste accompanying the memory. Yes, you did. But it was after one of your infamous breaks with Billy, the two of you were broken up. Eddie and you promised each other that it was nothing, that it would just complicate things between the two of you. And you knew, if Billy ever found out about it, he would not leave it alone, he wouldn’t let you hang out with him. He would mess with him till no end. And you didn’t want Eddie involved in it. Ever.

“I told you we didn’t!” You lied through your teeth, it didn’t matter now. What you did could never compare to what he fucking did. Ever. But you were starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, Chrissy spreading that rumor was not an accident, at all.

Anger simmered, building like a storm inside you. “Don’t try to shift the blame on me, you fucking kissed her!”

“I didn’t—”

“Did you not fucking kiss her back you asshole?” You interrupted, the surge of anger propelling you forward. Your hands found his shoulders, pushing him roughly. Billy stammered, opening his mouth to speak. “I-I only for like a minute, then I fuckin’ pulled away, I swear!” He defended himself, making you huff angrily.

“It’s over, Billy.” You muttered, gaze meeting his.

“I mean it.” You added, his sympathetic gaze was quick to turn cold, and it made you feel uneasy, how comfortable he was going from gentle to rough so quickly.

His lips twisted into a cynical skepticism, “for how long this time? Eight hours? Two fucking days? A week?” There was that lump in your throat again. Billy didn’t believe that you could leave him, and you felt that tight, unexplainable feeling sink into your chest, he thought you’d stay with him no matter what, like a fucking object that he could do whatever he wants to. It’s sickeningly insulting, your hand raises to slap him, but he’s faster.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His harsh grip on your wrist hurts, but what hurts more is the fresh bruise he left on your forearm two days ago, another fight that got too grabby.

“L-let me go,” you embarrassingly begged, wincing at his relentless grip. Your face scrunched with pain, eyes squeezing shut. The tenderness of the bruise made the slightest touch unbearable.

His hand twisted your wrist further, harsh hold squeezing more tears out of you than you realized. “B-billy,” you begged, again. Only then, Billy noticed your discomfort, swallowing hard before reluctantly releasing your arm. An emptiness replaced his hold, and your vision blurred as you tried to reassure yourself, fingertips gently tracing the purplish bruise.

“D-does forever work?” It comes out as a whisper, words tangling to each other when you recollect yourself from him, still trying to find the broken pieces he scattered, leaving without another word.

And he didn’t bother to run after you, watching your figure leave while guilt set in, the sight of that purple blotch on your arm, how you flinched at any contact, the way you closed up during arguments, it was all because of him. All because he couldn’t fucking help himself; his anger or his need for control.

He doesn’t escape the cycle.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you walked away, tears streaming down your face. Your hands shook as you wiped them away, the weight of everything breaking free in a flood of sobs.

You immediately make your way to the drink stand, praying to whatever god there is that no one else can perceive you for the rest of the night so that you can drown in your sorrows and drink all of it away.

You barely registered Chrissy approaching you between sobs and the harsh scoop of the 'pure fire,' as Steve called it, into the red cup clutched in your fists. “Can I talk to you?” Her voice, when it finally reached your ears, felt mocking, and carried a giddy undertone that enraged you more and more.

“No,” you scoffed, refusing to entertain the idea, turning your attention back to the sorrowful task of filling your cup.

“Come on, take a chill pill,” she attempted to joke, her usual signature line falling flat. Your glare, sharp as the knives you felt in your back, met her with anger. She huffed a sigh of breath.

“Please I’m sorry, just let me talk—”

“What the fuck do you want to talk about, huh?” You set the cup down harshly, the impact of it had the drink sloshing all over the surface, “the fact that you tried to kiss my boyfriend?” you interrupted with a spiteful look.

Her wavering sympathy dissipated at your accusation, eyes turning cold as she furrowed her brows. “What?” she hissed. “Tried? Is that what he told you?” She scoffed.

Your face scrunched. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” You spat back, you didn’t care if your words hurt her in the slightest, your thoughts were purely consumed by her betrayal.

“Excuse me?” Chrissy’s eyes narrowed.

“Jesus, Pinky are you really that fucking gullible?” She asked tilting her head almost mockingly.

“Or do you really think that highly of yourself?” Your mouth struggled to open, heart dropped to your stomach when you realized she didn’t even care.

“We were in that bathroom for twenty minutes, use your imagination.” That goddamn smirk curved on her lips, and you knew you have never felt this amount of pain before, it was insulting, to ever think you called her your friend.

“Oh, you are such a fucking-” You could feel your blood boiling, almost ready to attack her, your drunken haze giving you enough courage.

But her annoying tone interrupted you, “Did you really think you were perfect? That you were enough for Billy?”

“What did you think? That he would want a fucking charity case like you?” The tears pooled your eyes again, but you weren’t going to let her see it, so you held them in, clenching your fists as your breath caught in your throat. All of her insults became a deafening background noise to your ears. “Newsflash, Pinky you have junkies for parents. You’re too messed up. Even for Billy.”

The heat rushed to your cheeks at the last insult, earning a visceral reaction because of how cruel she was. Disgust and anger overtook your senses quicker than you intended them to, you felt small, and so fucking stupid.

Regret gnawed at you – You should’ve never let her in. You should’ve never let her comfort you. You should’ve never told her anything. It was all your fucking fault. For trusting anyone that came in your way.

Just because you wanted to feel loved, just because you wanted to fill that void that your parents left. And it was so ironic, considering they couldn’t give two shits about you, yet your deepest wound would always be them.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, Chrissy.” You spat, masking all of your emotions. You had mastered it at this point. You didn’t care what she said about you, she could keep her mouth running, because she was dead to you. Maybe you could’ve forgiven her for the whole Billy thing because fuck him too, he was no saint, right?

But making fun of your parents was one line she couldn’t cross.

“You’re more fit for that trailer trash freak.” Scratch that. Making fun of Eddie was one line she couldn’t fucking cross. Eddie. She couldn’t breathe near him if she wanted to, she didn’t deserve it.

Your teeth grounded together, and fury fueled your rise to your feet. “Don’t ever call him that again.” The words slipped between gritted teeth, the realization of how close you had walked to her only dawned as you unintentionally cornered her.

She looked taken aback, brows pinched together. “What are you gonna do? Go all trailer trash on me too?” She chuckled, annoyingly loud.

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

But she also shouldn’t have insulted Eddie.

You are ready to lunge at her, feet planted closer as your hands are formed as fists at your side, and just as you’re about to take another step, a harsh arm yanked you away. Seconds away from getting that satisfaction, and just like that, you’re ripped away from it.

“What the—” You turned swiftly to see the culprit, as you harshly shook off the hold on you, your bruises still hurt, causing loud whines to part from your lips. Steve. Chrissy was back in your face, mocking laughter dancing in her eyes. “God, you’re predictable.” The laughter stung, and the pressure of your anger almost built up in your jaw. “Fuck you, you stupid—” You try again. No luck. Of course, Steve, with an unyielding grip, dragged you away.

Chrissy walked past, reveling in the scorned look etched on your face. She paused, turning with a smirk. “Oh, and next time you get a ‘freak accident’, make sure you don’t forget your jacket.” She pointed toward the fresh bruise on your forearm, courtesy to Billy who grabbed you a little too hard during another heated argument. Then she threw the jacket right next to you, on the floor landing with a mocking thud as she left with an irritating cackle.

Impressively, Steve picked it up while maintaining his hold on you. “Let me go!” Your almost-scream echoed, his hands were unintentionally grazing the tender bruise, and it fucking hurt.

Only when he knew Chrissy was out of sight did he release his grip, and you shook him off with an exasperated huff. “What the fuck?!?” You questioned, gaze burning with fury. “Right back at you, what the fuck was that, Pinky?” He asked, tone more concerned than angry. “Nothing,” you muttered. It was such an obvious lie that Steve rolled his eyes. “That won’t work with me.”

In a defiant move, you grabbed the drink, aiming to drown the tension, but Steve intercepted, harshly putting it back down. A glare shot his way. “Will you leave me alone?” “No.” He protested with a pinch of his brows. “So, tell me.” “Steve,” you whined. You didn’t want to be interrogated by him, you knew he cared. But you just couldn’t handle it. “I’m serious, you do realize this is my house, right?” His tone carried a veiled threat and you rolled your eyes at him. “I could kick you out any time I wanted to.” Your gaze narrowed, disbelief etched across your face. "You wouldn’t do shit." With a raise of his brows, Steve swiftly picked you up, slinging you over his shoulders. It all happened so fast that you weren’t quick to start softly punching his back and screaming. God, he really was good at distracting you, so good that his little act almost coaxed a reluctant smile from your lips. “Put me down!” You yelled behind him, your fists landed on his back with a not-so-impactful force.

“Are you gonna tell me?” Steve asked, relishing the way you continued to thrash over his shoulder. Your face grew hotter every second, and with an annoyed huff, you finally nodded. “Yes, Jesus Christ!”

He gently lowered you to the ground, and a teasing glint danced in Steve's eyes as he quipped, "Atta girl." You responded with a scoff and a mock annoyed chuckle.

“So?” He questioned, arms crossing against his chest, his demeanor shifted, the playful atmosphere dissipating as his expression turned serious. “I caught Chrissy and Billy in the bathroom.” “What?” Genuine shock washed over Steve's features, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Yeah I—” “And she still had the nerve to say all those fucking things?” Embarrassment surged, fluttering your cheeks hot. “You, uh, you heard those?” Steve responded with a quick nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Pinky, not with me.” He reassured you, his hand finding a comforting place on your waist, “she's the one who should be fuckin’ embarrassed. Jesus.”

“Thought she was supposed to be your friend,” Steve said, his gaze softening with empathy.

“Me too.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips.

His gaze lingered on the gnarly bruises decorating your arm, a visible wince reflecting in his expression. "And what about those?" he gulped, concern etching lines on his face.

You were quick to dismiss it with a wave, too quickly that of fucking course Steve knew something was wrong, you didn’t even dare to look at the bruises, or him in the eyes.

“Bike accident,” you muttered, lying through your teeth.

"Since when do you have a bike?" Steve questioned and gauged your reaction, he knew you were lying, you were avoiding his gaze, and you looked visibly nervous, but he didn’t want to push this. It was too personal, and this wasn’t the place for it. So, he understood, of course, he did. He or Nancy should’ve been the one you confided in. But you didn’t want to burden them with your problems.

“If—” Steve took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “If you ever need to talk about anything—and I mean anything—you can always talk to me. Hell, us! You can always talk to us, you know that, right?” His hand was quick to caress your back, gently, letting you know that he would always be there.

You nodded, but you wanted this pity party to be over, you wanted—needed Eddie. Just one hug from him. And maybe a joint.

“I-I know, thank you.” You hesitantly replied, stumbling over your words.

“You need anything?” He asked sincerely.

You shook your head softly. “No… but have you seen Eddie?”

“He was selling to some idiots on the porch, might still be there.” He shrugged.

You were quick to nod, you had to leave, immediately. You didn’t want to worry Steve. “Thanks, Stevie, see you around?” You hummed, managing a smile that he mirrored.

And with that you were quick to grab your drink, downing it with a hiss before you almost ran to the porch, you didn’t want to see Billy or Chrissy again. You needed to find Eddie. And god, was it hot, you didn’t know if it was because of everything that transpired in the last twenty minutes, or it was because of the alcohol flowing in your system but you were burning up. And you didn’t want to wear your jacket. You should have.

A harsh breeze of air hit you once you finally stepped on the porch, fresh yet biting, serving as a slap of reality that had your eyes watering, you didn’t know why, you didn’t know how, but the tears came immediately. It was pathetic, really. You with the bruises, half-drunk, discovering your friend with your boyfriend, breaking up with your boyfriend, and then earning insults from the said friend who was hooking up with your boyfriend. A rollercoaster of a fucking night, but it was just getting started. Slouching on the porch stairs, your head hung low to your knees as you covered your face with shame, almost. Mind reeling in the worst way possible.

The insults stuck to it, Chrissy’s plump lips, Billy’s disheveled hair. His harsh grip on your arm. The way he mocked you. The insults Chrissy uttered. It was all a fucking mess. And you couldn’t handle any more of it.

All the emotions you pent up over the years wanted to flow through your eyes, ruining you, completely breaking you apart.

The red cup in your hand was crumpled roughly, each attempt to stifle your cries only intensified the shaking of the cup, spilling over to the stairs.

Where was he?

Where was Eddie?

Your mind was spinning and the only thing you could think of was him.

“Pinky?” The soft tone of his voice sliced through the tumult in your mind, and your head snapped up, eyes immediately watered at the sight.

There he stood, a boyish grin adorning his face, shaggy bangs falling over his amber eyes, a stupid leather jacket, and those stupid black jeans with chains attached to the hip. Him.

“Finally! Been lookin’ everywhere for you, sweetheart,” His voice wrapped around you like a reassuring embrace, but your foggy mind took a while for everything to register. When it did, you shot up, the world spinning dizzily, as you threw yourself into his arms. Sobs escaped freely, muffled against his jacket.

His voice immediately softened, gentle hands running through your hair as he cooed. “Hey.. hey… what happened?” His tone so sweetly sick that you couldn’t help but melt into him, letting his warmth take over.

Your breath caught up in your throat, and Eddie gently pulled away from the hug. Soft hands cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, grounding you with a simple touch. You gave into him, succumbing to his tenderness.

This was what you needed. And it was almost as clear as day. It should’ve always been him.

"I-I-" Your words stumbled over your sobs, the weight on your chest making it hard to breathe. Eddie's concerned eyes met yours, wiping away the tears on your cheek gently.

“Honey, hey, hey…” He caught your attention, his soothing voice breaking through the haze. His brows furrowed with worry, and you blinked open your eyes, focusing on him. "Breathe, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Like a lifeline, his words pulled you back from the edge. Concern etched on his face, apparent from his brows creasing.

What the fuck happened? And who fucking did this to you?

Eddie had a good idea who did it: Billy. The very thought of that name sent a surge of anger through his veins. Hadn't this asshole put you through enough already? What could he have fucking done now?

You drew in a shuddering breath, and Eddie, recognizing your struggle, encouraged you while soothingly caressing your hair, calming you down further and further.

"Deep breaths, just like that. Breathe for me," he coaxed, and you obediently followed, shallow breaths gradually returning to normal as you focused on him.

His touch was gentle, hands still caressing your cheeks as he asked with genuine concern, "Are you doing okay now?" He asked, gaze mellow and lips overturned with worry

You nodded, but it wasn't convincing enough for him. As your hiccups persisted, you finally managed to articulate through the tears, "Chrissy."

Eddie's heart tightened, a quizzical look on his face. Chrissy? What did she have to do with this?

"Billy hooked up with Chrissy," you revealed, it was the most clear you had spoken to him and he still had a hard time understanding it.

His brows pinched together both in anger and confusion, his hold on you faltering once he registered your words.

So, Billy cheated on you?

Oh, now he was going to kill that bastard. Once he made sure you were okay, he was going to beat the shit out of him.

"What?" he exclaimed a little too loudly, his hold on you momentarily faltering in sheer shock.

"They—what?" he stammered.

"I caught them in the bathroom, Eddie, I—" Your tears blurred your vision again, and in frustration, you ran your hand through your hair.

That's when Eddie's eyes widened, and he pointed to something, asking, "What's that?"

You froze, desperately attempting to dismiss it, but Eddie wasn't having it. His hands gently flew to your forearm, and you flinched just in time, hastily trying to put on the jacket you should've already been wearing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Now he was going to ask so many questions, and you knew he wouldn’t let go like Steve did, and he would know if you lied, in a heartbeat.

He huffed quickly, ignoring your protests as he softly held onto your arm, just around the bruise, being careful not to cause any more pain. Your lip trembled in the process. Shit, shit, shit.

“Pinky…” he murmured, worry creasing his brows at the royal purple mark.

If Eddie knew, there was no turning back, there was no way he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. A part of you was happy about it—maybe he could pull you away, maybe everything would be okay.

But the other part of you was terrified. Because you know he wouldn’t think of your bruises as nothing like you did and like Billy kept assuring you, he wouldn’t just let this go like you would. He would stand up for you, and while you were grateful, you were equally scared.

“N-nothing,” you muttered, avoiding his intense gaze.

“That’s not nothing,” his hand extended, slowly but surely making you reveal the full extent of the huge, gnarly bruise on your arm, with another one freshly forming from the hold Billy had on you earlier. Fuck.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, trying to avoid the genuine gasp waiting to escape his lips, “What happened?” His gaze found yours.

“Bike accident,” you lied through your teeth, a stupid fucking lie. He would never buy it.

“You don’t have a bike.” He heaved a sigh of breath, the thought of these bruises forming because of Billy didn’t even form his mind, sure he was awful and an asshole, but Eddie never thought he would be that awful.

“I used Mike’s.” Another lie.

“Did something bad happen?”

“No!”

“Pinky,” he said it so seriously that you felt bad. “Tell me, please.” His tone was awfully worrying.

How the fuck were you going to tell him?

“We were arguing—”

“What?” He quickly snapped back, not at you, but at what you were implying. He could almost feel the color draining from his cheeks. You surely didn’t mean…

“It-it was nothing!” You defended with a dismissive wave, but it didn’t stop his eyes widening. “We just- we were just arguing, and-and then he tried to hold me but i-it was just a little tight!”

“H-he did this to you?” Eddie’s jaw clenched in an instant, and he tried his best not to react, trying not to show you how he could feel his blood practically boiling, you’d been through enough, you didn’t need to deal with calming him down now, too.

“No, no, it was just a little accident. It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes, it fucking does!”

“No, it doesn’t!” Frustrated, you spat back, a bit of your pent-up anger lashing out at Eddie.

“I’m going to kill that asshole,” He scowled, rising to his feet, eyes spitting fire and you were quick to have a strong hold on his arm. “N-no! Please.” You whispered, the desperation in your voice slicing through the tension. Your touch brings him back to the present, reminding him that you matter more than his impulsive reactions.

Eddie stopped with a sigh of breath, gaze returning to you, and you nervously licked your lips fingers combing through your hair to gather your thoughts. “Look, Eddie, I-I just needed to see you, I just needed to feel normal for a moment, please, not now.” Your gaze was sympathetic, you looked so hurt that Eddie’s brows scrunched in pain.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, about to tell you that he could protect you, but your brows furrowed, and that teary-eyed look returned on your face. “Please,” Desperate, tugging on his arm, and he had no choice but to nod. He could deal with this later.

“O-okay,” he muttered, meekly, swallowing the lump in his throat. His stomach churned in pain and anger when he realized that bastard actually fucking hurt you. And you really thought it was all okay…

“What do you need, honey?” Sickeningly sweet tone was back again, and it warmed you up, removing the coldness that sat on your chest.

“A hug…” You muttered, “and maybe a joint.”

That brought an unintentional grin to both of your faces. “C’mere.” He whispered, arms quick to wrap around you, holding you close. The subtle sway of his body rocked you in the promise that you were not alone, his gaze filled with concern and you couldn’t help but melt into him when he pressed a kiss onto your hair.

Too engulfed, too distracted to realize someone almost sprinting toward the two of you. Before you could process the approaching figure, a voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory. “You didn’t kiss him? Bullshit!”

Confusion etched across your face as Eddie's protective arms tightened around you. “What the hell are you—”

Billy, possibly fueled by alcohol, swaggered toward you both with an air of aggression. “Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend.”

The scent of alcohol wafted from Billy, and Eddie’s unbridled rage was now on the surface, he wore a scowl, eyes daggering through Billy. His hand protectively remained on your hips, gently pulling you aside. You tried to look at him, silently pleaded that you didn’t want this, that you didn’t need him to do this. But it was no fucking use.

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, dipshit.”

“Stay the fuck out of this, freak.” He ignored Eddie, rage now full on display as he fully turned toward you.

“What, you gonna deny it, or no?” Caught in a crossfire, you felt a surge of panic, and just as you were about to speak, Eddie did it for you.

“No, she’s not gonna fuckin’ deny it.” Your eyes widened, blinking rapidly to process what Eddie just confessed to.

“Eddie—” You tried but again, no use, Eddie took a step closer to him.

“We did kiss.” A smirk played on his lips, he was doing it on purpose, he wanted to get Billy to punch him.

“I fucking kissed her, asshole.” Shit, you internally cursed at him.

The tension thickened, you could see it in the ticking jaw and bulging vein on Billy's neck. He moved forward, poised to strike at Eddie. “You have the nerve you fuckin’ freak!” He stepped forward, attempting to get at him.

You acted quick, acting as a shield to Eddie, you didn’t care, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of you. You couldn’t handle that.

“Billy, don’t!” Your desperate plea was drowned out by the pounding music and the escalating chaos. Despite your efforts, Billy's aggression only intensified. A forceful push sent you sprawling to the unforgiving ground. Tiny rocks bit into your palms, and your knees scraped against the abrasive cement.

The impact on the ground sent a shockwave of pain through your body, a groan escaping your lips at the pain. Your world spun harder, you didn’t even know what to focus on first; the throbbing bruise on your cheek, Billy's kiss with Chrissy, the haze of your drunkenness, or the startling fact that Billy had pushed you to the ground. All of it made you dizzy.

You could barely blink when Eddie knocked Billy out cold, with three well-aimed punches, lunging at him the moment he laid hands on you, your gaze narrowed to make sure you saw it correctly.

Eddie was fine. Eddie was okay.

“Sweetheart, oh my god.” Eddie's voice cut through the haze, his worried tone a soothing balm. With a gentle scoop, he lifted you to your feet.

You didn’t want to be there when Billy woke up, some drunk idiot could help him. Or Chrissy would, for all you cared. And as if Eddie understood you, he quickly helped you move away from the scene, guiding you towards the row of parked cars, away from everything.

Once you were at a safer distance, Eddie tried to hold you, face etched in concern, as he ventured to ask, “You doing okay?”

The scowl you wore was anything but, “Why did you do that?!?” The words spat from your lips surprised him.

“Excuse me?” Eddie responded, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yo-you shouldn’t have told him!” Worry was etched all over your face, Eddie didn’t realize the consequences of what he did would have, but you did, oh, you did.

“D-do you realize what you just fucking did?” You wanted to cry, or you were already crying, you couldn’t tell when your cheeks were wet already.

“I—”

You interrupted him. “I-I don’t need this, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset—”

“I’m not upset!” Your scowl deepened, face flushed with frustration.

He tried to reach closer, tried to help you but you refused. “Don’t- just don’t!”

“I-I don’t need to be saved or protected, okay?” Your lips wobbled, “just l-leave me alone, Eddie.”

“What?” His face fell, lips downturned, as he struggled to comprehend your sudden detachment.

“Leave me alone, I-I can take care of myself!” You begged, but that anger sank on your chest, it made you bitter, made you want to close up entirely.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He spat, hands ruffling through his hair in anger. He took a step closer to you, stomach churning with the need to hold you.

“Pinky don’t you fucking see it? I care about you, you’re the only thing I care about in this goddamn world! How the fuck do you expect me to leave when you’re hurt?” His voice cracked, and your gaze softened with it.

“How do you expect me to not beat the shit out of that fucking asshole for doing that to you?” The raw emotion in his voice was enough to pierce through your defenses, making your heartache.

“I get it, I get that you’re tough, but shit—”

“I can’t just sit and watch you get hurt… I can’t.” The truth in his words hung heavy in the air, it was almost like a shift between the two of you, like the barrier finally dissipating, so that the true feelings would prevail.

Yet, despite that you pushed back, your own stubbornness overtaking you. “But I want you to leave me alone!”

You knew your words were nothing but a lie, you needed someone, him specifically. Sure, you had always been tough, but this? This was too much. And you knew he was the only one who could make you feel better, yet like an idiot, you pushed him away. That’s all you were good at, wasn’t it?

Your tears came back when you saw his face, defeated, all because of you. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He deserved better, he shouldn’t be roped up in this mess. You had to push him away, you fucking had to.

He didn’t do anything but look at you. Really, really looked at you.

And you looked a mess, hair disheveled, mascara running down your cheeks, bruises on your arm, knees scrapped, lip wobbling, and you could barely stand. The worst possible condition he saw you in.

He knew what you were doing, you were pushing him away because you were afraid. A move, he always pulled, a move he was good at until he met you. He understood you, possibly in a way no one ever could.

Eddie, undeterred, stepped closer to you with a calm determination. Your head snapped up at the movement, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration.

“No.” He muttered.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“But—”

“No but’s, wear your jacket, I’m taking you home.” His tone was clear, not harsh, not soft either. Just letting you know that he was here, he was always going to be here and he was not leaving, even if you tried so hard to make him.

“I-I don’t think I wanna go home.” You muttered.

“My place?” You nod softly.

You don’t know why it caused you to break down again, but it did, tears were your friend and they were overspilling faster than you intended them to. His arms opened up instinctively and you didn’t hesitate to let him engulf you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured between sobs, the words catching in your throat. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean it, ‘m so sorry, sorry, so—” Hiccups interrupted your apologies, but Eddie hushed you gently, his presence making you feel at ease.

“I know, I know…” he cooed, hand ghosting over your back, the hold he had on you tight enough to let you know that you were safe. “It’s okay, honey.” He reassured. The sweet name had your heart beat faster once you looked up at him.

“I-I didn’t mean it.” You stammered all teary-eyed, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his chest tightened, you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to cry. He was going to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, hey, I know.” He cooed softly, gently caressing your face.

“P-please, don’t leave.” Your tone framed the words so gut-wrenchingly painful that Eddie ached, his heart broke a million times, over and over, pieces to pieces.

“Never.”

“I’d never leave you.”

NOW STEVE'S BRUNCH.

With the missing pieces of the puzzle finally being revealed to Eddie, that memory was what he replayed in his head, over and over, until he finally couldn’t handle the way Steve reassured you, hand on your waist as he told you idiotic jokes.

He couldn’t shake off it, he shouldn’t just leave it like this. He should fight for you, he should do something. His hand was quick to fish out the notebook, his eyes scanned through it to find the perfect note, maybe, this would help you realize that he had always been there for you. A feeble attempt, but he didn’t have any other choice, you didn’t want to talk to him, so he just slipped the note to Jonathan and left.

You watched him leave, a scowl on your face, heart aching when he didn’t even utter a goodbye to you. It was hypocritical, considering that you had asked him not to acknowledge you, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help yourself when it came to him.

Hours had passed since that moment and you had apologized to Jonathan and Nancy a hundred times by now, but they shrugged it off without a care. God, you really didn’t deserve them, did you?

And everything was going finally back to normal. Sipping the cocktails and munching on the amazing pancakes Steve had made everyone, and dabbling your feet in the water as laughter was all that surrounded the group.

This was what it should’ve been, all of you, and Eddie. If he hadn’t brought her.

But of course, all the bliss disappeared once Steve decided to bring it up again.

“So… how do you feel?” You threw him a glare, splashing some of the chlorine-filled water directly at his hair.

“Jesus, not the fucking hair!” He groaned, ruffling it with his daggering glare thrown at you. “Now you have to tell me!” He insisted, shoulder nudging yours.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you muttered, facing away from him as you felt everyone eyeing you.

“Maybe, we should.” Jonathan chimed in, making you furrow your brows.

“What does that mean?” Steve replied before you did.

With a sigh, Jonathan extended a rustled paper, and you immediately recognized what it was, “He said he wanted me to give this to you.”

“A note? So brave of him,” Steve mocked with a roll of his eyes, groaning when Nancy elbowed him.

Robin hid her giggle with her hand, and Nancy threw her an icy glare, shutting both of them up.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief, lips kissing your teeth as you snatched it out of his hand. “Oh, he did?” You didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it was pissing you off at this point.

He didn’t utter a single word to you. And now he didn’t even have the decency to give you this?

Steve was right.

Why was he being a fucking coward?

You were quick to get up from the side of the pool, plopping onto the nearest chair to read the contents.

You could feel their eyes on you but they were quick to hide it, going back to their chatter.

“When she gave me this, I never thought I’d actually end up writing in it for anything other than lyrics. Some ideas. But ever since we kissed, I can’t stop or control my thoughts, it’s been nonstop flowing and this is the only way I can express it. The only thing to make me feel sane, to make it seem like it really was real. My mouth hasn’t shut up about her since she kissed it, my thoughts haven’t been okay ever since I saw the curl of her lips right after she kissed me. I know how hard it is for her, I know how much she struggles with that dipshit who doesn't deserve her. But it doesn’t matter, now. I’ll wait. I’ll wait forever if she asks me to. I’ll do anything if she asks me to.”

You turned the note over, nothing else was written, with your brows pinched together angrily, you smushed it into your pocket, ignoring the protests of everyone while you jumped into your car in a hurry.

What the fuck was he thinking giving you this?

What the fuck was his problem?

If he wanted you, why couldn’t he just tell you?

And if so, why did he even bring Chrissy?

It wasn’t long till you made it to Eddie’s trailer, and with your harsh knocks, it wasn’t long till Eddie opened it.

“Jesus Christ—” His words fell in the air at the sight of you, eyes widening.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled, lines on your forehead deepening into a frown as you held up the note in his face.

“You didn’t utter a single word to me, and you’re just giving this note to Jonathan?” He stammered, mouth unable to find the words to speak, not really expecting you to confront him like this.

“Why don’t you just say it to my fucking face?”

“I would, if you weren’t so busy.”

Your brows pinched together, “excuse me?”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” He asked.

“Y-you tell me not to speak with you! You tell me that we shouldn’t ever see each other again, then you leave with Steve and somehow I’m the problem?” He said, exasperated.

Was he… jealous? Of Steve?

“No, the problem is you being a coward!” You raised your voice, hand pressing the note to his chest dramatically.

“You think I’m a coward? I’m the furthest fucking thing from it, and you know that.”

“You think a coward would put everything aside for you? You think a coward would run away with you?”

“O-okay, okay!” You want him to stop speaking, because you know he’s right, he wasn’t a coward, at least when it came to that. But he was a coward when it came to his feelings, and maybe it wouldn’t have pissed you off this much if you weren’t one too.

The two of you were dancing around what you actually needed to talk about, feelings, and it was getting ridiculous at this point, because neither of you could pull away, no matter how many times you said you would. He pulled you in, and you pulled him in.

“I fucked up, I did. But don’t ever act like I’m the one who ran away when things got too hard, okay?” He leaned further on the door frame, face inches away from yours, it made your breath hitch, heart thumping inside of your ribcage.

Your words meshed together when your gaze stooped on his lips. He was close, so close, and he occupied your mind. “H-How did we even go back to this? It’s like we’re moving around in a stupid fucking circle and—” You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

“I told you I didn’t want to do this back and forth with you and here we are again!” It was frustrating, everything with him was frustrating, but you couldn’t stay away from him, how could you?

Those five years had been hell.

“Are you kidding?” His words were dripping with irritation, “You came to my door! Started screaming in my face and waving notes!”

“I only did it because you were too much of a fucking coward to give me the note!” Now it was fully getting ridiculous, arguments turning into a bickering old couple.

“I told you I’m not a coward—” He defended.

You interrupted with, “Fine, fine! You are not a coward whatever!”

“What you are is fucking infuriating!” You spat, taking a step closer to him.

“Infuriating? You started this!” He fueled it, mirroring your steps, one more step from either of you, and his lips would be pressed onto yours.

“Oh, so I kissed Chrissy?” You scoffed, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jesus, that’s not what I meant!” He almost groaned, frustrated.

“You want me to prove it to you? You want me to tell you how much I messed up? I’ll fucking do it.”

There was that tension between the two of you again, it wasn’t filled with hatred in the slightest, but there was so much unresolved shit that it might as well suffocate you if Eddie stepped any closer, it ached, making a way to your heart.

Three hours ago you wanted him out of your life, for good. Now, all you wanted to do was see him prove himself to you, it was stupid, psychotic, and maybe a little selfish. But you couldn’t help yourself when it’s him.

“You will?” You stammered, you didn’t fully know what that meant, but it was somehow making your heart jump knowing that maybe the notes still meant something. Maybe, just maybe he wanted you, still. Your forehead relaxed, and lips itched to curl into a smile.

And of fucking course, Eddie caught it. “Yes.” He said, all smugly, making you want to roll your eyes.

“G-good, uh, until then, I-I mean it, I don’t want to see you.” You shifted uncomfortably in your place, fully realizing how close he was to you, and it somehow brought confidence to Eddie.

He tssked, “Then you probably shouldn’t come to my door, then.” His nose scrunched sarcastically, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Munson.” You warned.

“Pinky?”

“You really are infuriating.”

“Am I?” He tilted his head all adorably.

“Yes.”

“See you tonight, sweetheart.” He winked.

And you groaned with that, flipping him off while you hurried back to your car.

He closed the door with an amused smile, his nose scrunching as he replayed the conversation in his head.

“So you two good now?” Wayne’s grouchy tone almost had Eddie jump in place.

“Jesus Christ, Wayne! Were you just eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“What? You said y’all had the worst fight of your lives, that don’t seem like it to me.” He shrugged.

“We did— but uh, I don’t know, I just don’t know what the actual fuck is going with us, I thought I was dead to her but then she just barges in—”

“She cares about you, Eddie.” Wayne sighed.

“I know that girl like the palm of my hand, if you were dead to her, she wouldn’t even acknowledge you, just her bein’ a big fireball shows she still cares.”

Eddie sighed, “But she said—”

“Hell to what she said! Both of y’all are idiots when it comes to this, you go prove to her that you’re sorry, tell her how you feel and then you can thank me.” He exclaimed.

“But—”

“Boy, do what I told you, apologize to that sweet girl, and make sure you do it until she forgives you.” Eddie threw a look at Wayne.

And Wayne dismissed it with his finger pointing at him, “I mean it, Eddie, after all the shit you told me about what that little blondie did to my Pinky, you should be on your knees beggin’!”

“Okay, okay!” Eddie admitted the defeat.

“Jesus, old man, it wouldn’t hurt for you to just take your nephew’s side once in a while, would it?” He mocked dramatically.

He threw a daggering look at Eddie, “Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.” Wayne narrowed his gaze. “A proper apology.” Eddie muttered, almost embarrased. “And?” Wayne raised his brows. Eddie groaned loudly, “and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

✦ final authors note — okay i promise the next two chapters are going to be less angst-filled (like gonna be worth the wait i promiseee) 🤭 and yes the note was inspired by alex turner's letter to alexa chung okay!! reading that at like 13 altered my brain chemistry a LOT. anyway like i said pls leave some feedback i swear it motivates me a LOTTT. thank u for reading ilyy💗

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #getaway car #getaway car series

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maxident-xx · 7 months ago

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i have romantic feelings for you too prev except I don't feel like screenshotting all your text

new pjsk fandom challenge!!! Try to describe minori without using anything that relates to being a lesbian girlflop GO!!!

#MINORI IS THE IDOL EVER!#she wants to sprwad hope! she lovez her dog! and her friends! and eveyone around her #she thinks she doesnt have the idol kinda aura that her friends do BUT she makes people very happy and is sparkly and cutes so really she d #es #she got pretty bullied st rhe start of mmj but is the most integral part of it and it forming so everyone agrees #shes reslly hardworking since she hasnt been on thr idol track for schl like ai and shi have so she took a massive step up for 2nd year #with that. and did i mention SHE LOVES HER FRIENDS SONMUCHZ #shr was so worried about kohsne and shiho and missing thrm and :(#she wants the best high school experience ever!!!!#shes really inventive and always has a fresh perspective compared to the rest of mmj #she also loves her doggy :33 #shes a big sister! she has a little brother i think???#from what we know her parents are rlly supportive though they worried about the extra work shes taking on they want her to be happy !!!#shes just endlessly ready to help people which makes her so endearing #coughs. i am not the biggest mmjer so please corewct me if im wrong but i hope i pass the test i dont think theres an event translation for #but i do love her #her new event #<- there. prev tags

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kazumist · 5 days ago

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EPISODE 23 ✦ PLEASE DONT SAY YOU LOVE ME

LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 838.

with an ice cream already consumed, ajax is walking you home now. it was a silent walk; only the sounds of the leaves slightly rustling around you as well as both of your footsteps can be heard in the area.

you liked childe—it took you long enough to realize that. but it’s still a lot for you to process. you think it’s mutual, but how can you be so sure? maybe childe is just like that to the people he cares about, right? but god, it surely makes your heart drop to your stomach at the thought of someone else also receiving this treatment from him.

is this an effect of an eldest daughter who’s also a hopeless romantic? perhaps. romantic love was an unfamiliar concept to you, after all. no matter how much you read or consume media that consists of the theme of romance, it will never be enough to give you the understanding that you wish to grasp with the concept. before you knew it, you had already let your words slip.

"why are you doing this?"

"why shouldn't i be doing this?" he asks back, slightly tilting his head to the side.

"i don't get it, childe. why are you doing this?"

childe pauses for a moment, realizing that you are actually serious with your question. he doesn't reply immediately, finding the right words to say first.

"it's because... i love you," he says, only realizing it now as well. he had always liked you, of course, but ajax had only realized that he loved you. he had loved you for a while now.

"what?" you asked him in disbelief.

"i love you, (name)."

"but... why?"

"is a reason necessary?"

your breath hitched at his words. "i—of course it's necessary! i don't get it. i'm a difficult person. i refuse to communicate. i push people away even though deep inside i know i need help because, even as a child, i never got any sort of assistance to begin with. i pressure myself to the point it's way too overwhelming. i fear that one day i'll end up being useless in my own life. i can hardly even understand myself so what more if others would try? i... i find that i'm undeserving of love because there are others who need it more than me."

"so please, ajax. there's no use in loving me. you'll just get tired in the end. there's someone out there who's more deserving of the love you have to give."

please don't say you love me, because i might not say it back.

"no."

"what? didn't you hear what i just said? i'm difficult to love, ajax—"

"i heard it, but that doesn't change the fact that i still love you nonetheless," he replies, taking a step closer.

"(name), i love you with everything i am, everything i've been, and everything i hope to be, and i'll continue to love you even when you push me away. i will always find my way home to you. i'll be there to pull you back up before you sink any further under the pressure you give yourself. you'll never be useless—i'll make sure that you never feel that way. i will understand you no matter whatever it is that needs to be understood with you."

"you are not undeserving of love, because if there's one person in the world that i'd choose to pour my love on, it would be you," he finishes.

“i… no.”

“what?”

“no—i.. i can’t. i’m sorry, tartaglia.” the use of his last name stung for him a bit. “it’s fine if you can’t right now; i’m willing to wai—” you cut him off before he could finish the word. “don’t!” he flinches at the sudden raise of your voice and is taken aback. “why?”

“please… just don’t. there’s others who are better and more deserving of you than me. why me? you’ll just be wasting your time if you wait for me. i probably wouldn’t be able to give you a proper answer. i.. how are you so sure that you love me?”

“that’s fine with me, (name). it’s okay for me to go through all of that because i know i would be doing it for you.”

stop it. please.

“my answer is still no.”

i’d rather not risk it. i don’t want to take someone for granted, especially if that someone is you.

“but—”

this is for the better.

“go away, ajax.”

he could feel the weakness in your voice when you said those three words. he tried to get closer by taking a step further, but you took a step back. that was when ajax realized that you were sure of your words. “let me still walk you home, just for tonight—this will be the last one,” he says. as you were about to decline, he spoke again first. “i don’t want you to walk home alone when it’s dark.”

even if this might be the last time i’ll get to do this.

extra notes.

wow double update ?!?! watch me ghost this app again for 2 months ... kidding !

had this episode sitting my drafts for MONTHS. im pretty sure this episode has been written ever since i was still uploading ep 5 maybe? somewhere during the making of the early episodes LAWLZ

smau playlist linked here !! pls give it a listen it gives u the extra feels 😋 this episode is highly inspired by please don't say you love me by gabrielle aplin <3

taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]

#( smau — love maybe ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #childe smau #ajax x reader #ajax #childe #x reader

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dfortrafalgar · 8 months ago

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

I'm going to say this on every chapter i post here LOL, but GO TO CHAPTER 1 AND READ!!!!! MY!!!!!!! WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

[Prev] [Next]

You loved your office, you really did. Two of your coworkers were your best friends from high school, the work-life balance was ideal, your bosses were super understanding and encouraging of all their employees endeavors, and the weekly catered lunches truly felt like a luxury.

The only qualm was the noise.

The office had an open layout, and while everyone had their own desk, it was very easy to move around the space and talk to everyone while on and off the job. This meant any personal phone calls had to be taken out of the entire vicinity. And in your case, into an unlocked broom closet across the industrial building’s hallway, in front of another agency’s door.

You were sitting on a plastic box containing something you weren’t sure of, anxiously bouncing your feet as your heart hammered in your chest. Each time the ringback tone exited your speakers caused another cold wave of anxiety to flood from your head to the soles of your feet. You swallowed a thick glob of spit as you struggled to maintain your breathing. You were sure your blouse was going to have armpit stains when you returned to your desk.

Finally, a voice picked up the other line.

[Thank you for calling Grand Line Gynecology and Obstetrics, how can I help you today?]

The sweet, welcoming voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line made you breathe a sigh of relief, though you weren’t out of the woods just yet. Far from it. “Hi, uhm, I’m a patient with Dr. Robin, and I was wondering if I would be able to get an appointment as soon as possible.”

A few keyboard clicking noises followed your request.

[Can I have your name and date of birth?]

You quietly relayed your information, biting your lip impatiently. More typing sounds could be heard.

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, and do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit?]

You knew it was important information for your doctor to know prior to seeing you, but the thought still made a heavy pit develop in your stomach. “Uhm… f-fertility consultation…? I guess.”

More clicking.

[Of course, I’m looking up Dr. Robin’s availability right now, hold on just a moment, please!]

You’ve dealt with crappy phone receptionists in the past, but whoever was usually on the receiving end of your calls to your gynecologist was always so pleasant. You could never quite recognise her voice in person, but her bubbly and patient speech was always greatly appreciated during your otherwise anxious phone calls. Finally, she came back onto the line.

[Dr. Robin’s next available appointment isn’t for three months, unfortunately, but I can still fit you into that time slot if you would like! I can also write your name down, so if any appointments open up sooner, we will give you a call.]

You breathed another sigh of relief. “That would be amazing, thank you.”

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, I have you marked down for Thursday, May 1st at 10:00 AM. We’ll give you a call if anything changes and you can always call us if you develop other concerns, okay?]

You smiled at the broom closet floor. “I appreciate it, thank you very much.” The phone clicked off after trading goodbyes, your arm falling onto your lap. You hadn’t realized how tight you were gripping your phone until then, your hand trembling with how harsh your hold was on the device. With a sigh, you opened your text conversation with Law.

Hi baby, I just called the obgyn, they cant fit me in until may 1st but she said if anything opens up theyll call me back. Fingers crossed something opens up sooner, hopefully you dont have to wait as long! I’ll see you later, i love youuuuu ^3^

You put your phone to sleep and stuffed it into the pocket of your trousers as you finally exited the broom closet. An employee of the agency across from yours was entering his office and tossed you a very confused glance at you leaving the innocuous room, but you paid him no mind as you walked back into your office to continue your work.

“There you are, I was wondering where you went!” Ikkaku was waiting for you at your desk with her work laptop in hand. “I wanted to go over a few designs with you, but when I went to find you, you were just, POOF! Gone like the wind!”

You laughed at her excited talking, finally sitting at your desk again and grabbing an unoccupied chair for your friend to sit in. “Sorry to make you wait, I had to take a phone call.”

Ikkaku brushed off having to wait with a cheery, “It’s fine! No biggie!” before opening her laptop and inputting her passcode. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. While Ikkaku was opening her files, you slipped out your device and tapped the screen.

Baby~~<3

Hopefully something opens up, but it’s good that you at least got an appointment. I got my appointment with urology on my lunch break today. We’re making steps. I love you, see you later.

You smiled at the text.

“Why does Law need to see a urologist?” Ikkaku whispered beside you, making you jump and hide your screen. She was looking at you with curiosity in her big, brown eyes.

“It’s nothing, really.” You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket. Ikkaku was your best friend, she really was, but the last thing you wanted to do was bring up your potential infertility issues while on the clock, and especially while your anxieties were still fresh and raw at the forefront of your brain.

Ikkaku must have sensed your profound fear, as she shrugged and turned her attention back to her laptop. “So here’s what I was drafting…”

—

While you had to wait around three months for your appointment, Law’s was scheduled shockingly quick. Almost too quick for his liking. The following week. Which, to Law’s mutual discomfort and relief, came much quicker than he thought it would.

He was thanking the heavens above that he had the day off for once.

Law followed all the rules to a T before the appointment. No ejaculation 2-3 days prior, but no longer than 5. He’d jerk off into a sterile cup in the clinic, hand that to the doctor, and wait a few hours. While waiting, he’d get his hormone blood work collected. Easy as pie. He walked into the clinic feeling oddly confident in himself and his abilities to follow pre-procedure protocol, as a doctor himself. The brief moment of cocky joy was interrupted as soon as the fertility doctor entered the examination room Law was sitting in.

“Alriiiight! Mr. Trafalgar Law!” The doctor was shouting his name before even closing the door, making the black-haired man cringe. The nametag on the open laboratory-style coat he wore read ‘Dr. Franky.’ Next to the name tag was a little enamel pin of a robot. The door was closed with a moderate slam. “You’re that cardiologist from New World Hospital, right? You’re crazy popular, so cool to see you in the clinic! So we’re here to check on your little swimmers, huh?” Dr. Franky, who was shockingly tall and very broad in the shoulders, plopped into his seat and placed his laptop on the counter in front of him.

The force of him sitting on the stool caused the pneumatic tube to compress forcefully downwards. Law had a mental image in his head of the tube exploding and propelling the spring upward into the doctor’s ass. He barely even registered the fact that his reputation as the city’s leading cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to have followed him to his semen analysis appointment. He shook his head quickly before nodding. “Uh, yeah, semen analysis.”

Dr. Franky was rapidly typing in whatever patient portal he was using. “Semen analysis is such an uppity thing to call it, I personally like calling it the Super Swimming Meet!” He laughed, the voice echoing around the small room and making Law wince. He finally finished typing, slamming his laptop closed. It was then Law noticed a few pieces of scotch tape holding the laptop’s hinges together. (What kind of clinic is this?) Franky’s booming voice interrupted Law’s thoughts. “All you have to do is wank off into this cup here. Cap it tightly and bring it to the nurse’s station when you’re done and it’ll get sent off into the lab!”

Law carefully took the cup from the doctor, his face heating up in embarrassment. “Uhm… thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave you to it?”

Law wanted to ask if there was a different room he should be doing this in, or if handing the cup to a random nurse was proper protocol, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible. He was starting to regret his colleagues at the hospital giving him clinic recommendations. “Uhh… no thank you, I think that’s everything.”

“Alright, Mr. Trafalgar, I’ll let you get to it!” Dr. Franky left fairly quickly, much to Law’s relief. His ears were still ringing with the volume of the doctor’s voice.

Law was now left alone, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding the empty sterile plastic cup. After that interaction, the last thing he was thinking of doing was masturbating, but he needed to get it over with. For your sake, and his.

He awkwardly stood and undid his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor before placing a few napkins onto the plastic chair and sitting back down. He shivered at the cold feeling of the napkin-covered chair against his bare ass. This was the least erotic situation he could’ve ever experienced. He figured it would be far from the norm, but this was beyond any expectation he could’ve developed. He shivered.

Grabbing the cup again, Law unscrewed the cap just enough so that he’d be able to pop it open as soon as he needed to. When he stared at his flaccid dick, however, he uttered a defeated sigh.

‘Think of something to get you hard, man, think of your wife,’ he told himself. Even his inner voice was desperate.

The sterile doctor’s office was completely inhibiting any thoughts of you to remain permanent in his head. Every time he tried to think of your smell, your taste, the feeling of your bare flesh against his fingers, he would inhale and take in the bland stench of sterile alcohol and plastic. He groaned.

Reaching into his pants pocket on the floor, he procured his phone. Opening an incognito window on his web browser, he inwardly apologized to you (and double checked that the door was locked) before opening up a porn website for the first time since he was an undergrad in college.

—

Law came home a few hours after you. You were standing at the stove setting the oven preheat temperature, a loaf pan of uncooked banana bread sitting on the stove top waiting to bake. You turned to ask how his appointments went, but kept your mouth shut when you saw Law kick his shoes off and sit at the bar counter in your kitchen, placing his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately growing anxious that he had received bad news. Your stomach turned.

He lifted his head. “I… I had to watch porn today.”

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