#where the director called 'cut' but they kept going

[ingravinoveritas]

Me right now thinking about GO 2 and The Kiss after what Rob Wilkins said today:

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SEVEN

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, abortion, alcohol, drug consumption.

MASTERLIST

You never spent much time on The Cut, unless you were being dragged by duty, mostly charity events for the local populations, fundraisers for their schools usually.

You always showed up in something tasteful but subtly expensive—pearls, understated Louboutin heels, and a blazer that whispered wealth without screaming it. 

Your mother taught you that.

Now, you sat in Poguelandia, doing god knows what.

The name alone sounded like some bad beach-themed party game. But you kept the snark to yourself—mostly. Sarah swore to you this was her new "thing," her big redemption arc, and who were you to judge? It wasn’t where you pictured spending any afternoon, yet there you were.

Pregnant. On The Cut. Drinking—well, holding—a very flat ginger ale out of a plastic cup.

You smoothed your dress for the hundredth time, light linen in a neutral tone that looked effortless but cost more than most people’s rent, while pretending not to notice Pope and Cleo staring like you were a rare bird that had wandered into the wrong habitat. 

Were they always this... intense? Did people on this side of the island not know how to look away when someone made eye contact? Your mother’s voice echoed in your head. They’re not staring at you, dear; they’re staring at themselves in relation to you. 

Whatever that meant. 

To their credit, they weren’t mean about it. Just... curious, as if you’d wandered in from a wildlife documentary called Kooks in the Wild.

You moved your weight around in your seat, hyper-aware of every grain of sand sticking to your hérmes sandals. Every time you shifted, you felt the grains grinding between the straps and your skin.

Should’ve worn the espadrilles, you thought ruefully, but even then, this wasn’t the world’s most glamorous venue. Sarah had begged you to stop by, though, and you owed her. It was also good for you to leave the house instead of being cupped up inside all alone.

“Okay, seriously, what’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face? Is my makeup smudged? Be honest.”

Cleo snorted. “No, you’re fine, princess. We’re just surprised to see you.”

You were still holding your sad little plastic cup. “Just thought I’d participate in—whatever this is.” You gestured vaguely at the mismatched chairs and string lights that looked like they’d been stolen from someone’s backyard wedding. “Community service?”

It was supposed to come off as witty. You weren’t sure it did.

Pope choked on his drink—sweet tea? soda?—and Cleo chuckled outright. “You’re funny,” she said, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she meant it.

“Thanks?” It came out like a question, and you wanted to die just a little bit inside.

Pope grinned, leaning forward with a chip in his hand. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who hangs out in The Cut, that’s all.”

You blinked, feigning shock. “You don’t think I spend my weekends in—what is this, a glorified surf shack? I’m crushed.”

Cleo laughed again, which—fine—made you feel a little better.

“Nah, it’s just... you’re different up close. Not like, scary kook different. Just human. Y’know?”

“Great. That’s exactly what I was going for today.”

Pope gestured to the bar. “You want a snack? Chips? Cookies? We have...three options.”

You straightened, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

Food. Your stomach growled loudly, as if it had been cued by a stage director. “What kind of cookies?”

He blinked, not expecting you to care. “Uh... chocolate chip? Maybe oatmeal raisin?”

“And the chips?” You pressed, leaning forward now.

“Salt and vinegar,” Cleo piped up, eyeing you curiously. “Barbecue too, I think. Why?”

“Okay, shit, great.” You clapped your hands together decisively. “I’ll have all of it. All the chips, both kinds of cookies. Do you have anything else? Pretzels? Popcorn? Random condiments? I’m not picky.”

Cleo stared at you, her mouth slightly open. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything. Is that a problem?”

She blinked, her eyes darting to Pope like he had an explanation. He shrugged helplessly.

“Woman” she muttered under her breath. “Did you not eat for a week, or...?”

The salt and vinegar chips were divine, borderline transcendent, as you shoved another handful into your mouth. The truth was, you weren’t just hungry—you were still terrified. Every bite, every easy conversation with other people that weren’t Sarah, was a game of jenga to you. One wrong move, one offhand comment, and your secret could be out in the open.

Six more days until this would all be... over. Until the secret growing inside you—the one you’d barely admitted to yourself most mornings—would be gone.

The past three days had been the best you’d felt in ages, cravings and all, thanks to Sarah. She’d slept over, stayed up late talking with you, making you laugh, distracting you from the endless pit what-ifs and why-mes.

It was the longest you’d gone without crying in three months. The longest you’d lived without feeling like you could suffocate at any given moment. With her help, it had been easier to forget—to pretend that things were still okay.

But Sarah wasn’t there, she’d left earlier with John B, something about helping him with a tour.

“You good, princess?” Cleo’s voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked at her, realizing you’d been crushing the chip bag in your hands like a stress ball. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to fight that bag of chips,” Pope said, grinning.

You forced a laugh, leaning back and tossing the bag onto the table. “No fighting. Just... intense snacking."

You reached for the chocolate chip cookies he had offered earlier, focusing on the sweetness, the comfort of food that tasted good for once. Sweet, crumbly, safe. If only the rest of you life felt like that.

Pope and Cleo knew something was up, they all did, probably.

Sarah had been glued to your side, and it wasn’t exactly subtle.

Her sudden move to “stay over” at your place had obviously raised eyebrows, especially since you two hadn’t had a proper conversation in months before all this. And there was the beach clean-up, Kie and JJ had been there when you felt ill, and while you’d been too disoriented to keep up with the cover story once Rafe drove you away, Sarah had stepped in later to handle it.

Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Totally fine.

Still, to your relief, neither Pope nor Cleo seemed inclined to pry, perhaps it was pity, or maybe they were just decent enough to let you keep the little shred of privacy you had left. Either way, you were grateful.

“So,” Pope said, leaning back on his elbows and flashing you an easy grin, “How are you finding our place? I mean, other than our fine selection of snacks.”

You swallowed a bite of cookie, forcing a smile. “It’s...charming. Rustic. A real je ne sais quoi vibe.” You waved your hand vaguely, trying to mimic the way your mother used to describe terrible restaurants we’d never go back to.

Cleo snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“It’s cute,” You offered, looking around, “I can tell you guys put your heart into it.”

Pope smirked, lifting a brow. "That's nice of you to say."

You gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance, but you meant it.

For all the mismatched chairs and questionable decoration, there was something undeniably warm about the place. You weren't used to that—spaces filled with love instead of decorators and florists, it wasn’t bad. Just different.

“I mean it,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lap. “It’s very authentic. ‘Pogue Chic’ or something.”

Cleo laughed, loud and genuine, her grin lighting up her face. “Pogue Chic?"

Pope chimed in, “Hey, don’t knock it. We’re trendsetters. Ahead of its time.”

You smiled, but your mind was already falling back to the sand clinging to your dress and the ginger ale that tasted like disappointment. You’d never say it out loud, but you admired them, that ability to make joy out of scraps. It was something you didn’t quite know how to do. Not yet, anyway.

Cleo leaned forward, her elbows resting on the makeshift table. “So, are we going to see you around more? Or is this just a one-time royal visit?”

You hesitated, twirling the rim of your cup between your fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe. If Sarah keeps dragging me here, I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

You didn't know if it was the way he said it, the tone he used, or just your hormones fucking you up, but suddenly there were tears in your eye sockets. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head back slightly and praying that the tears stayed put.

These kids, all of them, sitting here like they hadn’t spent their lives scraping by, like they hadn’t been hurt or abandoned or let down a hundred times over by people they loved and trusted. Yet somehow, they were still full of hope, full of life.

You envied that.

You wished you could bottle it, whatever it was that kept them laughing and fighting and welcoming someone like you—a result of privilege and mistakes and heartbreak—into their home. It was humbling in a way that made your chest hurt.

“Does that mean I can choose to order better snacks next time? Maybe some sparkling water? Flat ginger ale is a crime against humanity.”

Cleo snorted, still not fooled by your deflection, but she let it slide.

“Good luck with that, princess. Our snack budget’s about three bucks and whatever we can steal from Kie’s pantry.”

Pope chuckled, tossing a chip in his mouth. “And you’re welcome to contribute if you’re so concerned about the menu.”

It surprised you, how easy it was to talk to them.

On paper, you had nothing in common. They were younger, grew up in a completely different world, and you were used to the polished conversations of country club luncheons and charity galas. 

Here, things were different.

They didn’t seem to care if you stumbled over your words, if your jokes were awkward or if you occasionally sounded like a walking trust fund catalog. They didn’t care about your last name, your family’s money, or any other things that had weighed you down for years.

That was disarming.

You’d spent your entire life around people who mirrored your upbringing—kids who summered in the Hamptons or Barbados, adults who measured their worth in stock portfolios and vacation homes. Now, you were here, in this cobbled-together haven with salt-stained cushions, sitting with people who’d grown up struggling for things you took for granted.

You thought it would feel more awkward or forced, but it didn’t.

It was easy.

Pope sat on the counter, gesturing with a half-eaten chip. “Serious question. How do you even survive on Figure Eight? Do they hand you iced lattes and designer handbags when you’re born, or do you have to work your way up to that?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “Oh, absolutely. The moment you’re born, they issue you a monogrammed diaper bag and a gold-plated pacifier. It’s very exclusive.”

Cleo nearly choked on her drink. “See, this is why we can’t take you seriously.”

Your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with your cousins name, interrupting the fun. You sighed, rolling your eyes before picking it up. “Yes, Top?”

Topper’s slightly whiny tone spilled into your ear. “Can you believe Mom’s threatening to rent out the beach house for the summer? Actual strangers, staying there. What’s next? Turning it into a hostel?”

“Tragic,” you deadpanned, resting your chin in your hand. “Truly, a devastating blow for humanity.”

Pope fake-coughed, mumbling “white rich privilege problems,” while Cleo mouthed, “Hostel!” and shook her head, laughing silently.

“I know. Anyway, I’m coming over later.”

“Where’s your invitation?”

You heard him scoffing, “I’m family, I don’t need one.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Top, you can’t just announce you’re coming over. I might have plans.”

“Yeah, and I’m your family, so those plans now include me,” Topper said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Besides, I’ll bring food.”

Across from you, Pope was already gagging dramatically, holding his stomach as if the mere sound of Topper’s voice made him physically ill. 

“I don’t know if—”

“See you at noon,” he interrupted. “Later!”

The call ended before you could even argue, and you set your phone down with a resigned sigh. 

“Looks like I’m hosting a one-man Topper pity party,” you said, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.

Pope clutched his chest. “Will you survive?”

You only left once the sun dipped lower into the horizon, you gathered your things promising Sarah you’d drive safely and talk to her tomorrow.

Cleo, Pope and John B were mid-argument about the best way to fix something in the shack. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.

With a few more quips exchanged and goodbyes said, you walked back to your car. That night, the ache in your chest wasn’t completly unbearable. You weren’t okay, but you weren’t drowning, either.

You’d been terrified of this afternoon all day, worried you’d stick out like a sore thumb or say the wrong thing.

But the Pogues hadn’t cared about your awkwardness, your polished self, or even the giant invisible cloud you carried everywhere these days. They let you just be.

The drive home was quiet, but this time you even hummed along to a song on the radio, which was strange because you couldn’t remember the last time you cared about music or even turning on that thing. When you pulled into the driveway and stepped into your house, it didn’t feel as cold and empty as it did last week.

You set your bag down on the entryway table and kick off your sandals, the floors cool beneath your feet. Heading to the kitchen, you decided to see if there was anything decent for tonight’s impromptu early dinner with Topper. The fridge greeted you with a sad bag of lettuce, half a bottle of sparkling water, and a single container of leftover pasta you weren’t sure was still edible.

“Great,” you muttered, closing the door and moving to the pantry.

The situation there wasn’t much better. Sarah’s latest health-kick contributions—a bag of chia seeds and some organic trail mix—laughed at you from the top shelf. You frowned, pushing them aside to reveal a dusty box of crackers and a jar of Nutella.

“Guess we’re going shopping tomorrow,” you murmured, grabbing the crackers and Nutella to snack on now.

You placed them on the counter and glanced around. The sink held a few dishes from earlier —a couple of coffee mugs, a bowl, a plate.

You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, might as well get this out of the way.

Normally, you’d have had someone else to take care of this—stocking the pantry, cleaning the dishes, even deciding on the menu for your lunches. But lately, you’d been scaling back. You hadn’t let anyone go, of course. You could never do that; the staff had been with your family for years, and many of them felt more like extended family than employees. Still, you’d quietly rearranged their schedules, giving them more time off.

They didn’t question it—probably thought it was some new phase, another eccentricity of a bored, privileged young woman.

Truth was, you liked doing these things.

Focusing on something small, tangible, gave your brain a break from drilling itself into a million dark corners. Folding laundry, washing dishes, even the routine of chopping vegetables—it kept your hands busy and your thoughts manageable enough. It wasn’t that you’d suddenly become a domestic goddess or anything. Most of the time, you’d forget to pick up groceries or burn whatever you tried to cook.

It wasn’t about being good at it. It was about doing something.

You looked around the kitchen, noting the little imperfections you wouldn’t have noticed before. A small water stain on the counter from where your glass had sat too long, the scuff marks on the cabinets where your chair scraped when you leaned back. They weren’t problems to be fixed—they were just signs of life.

And right now at that very moment, life felt…okay.

The house didn’t seem as cold or empty when you were doing things for yourself, even if it was mundane work. You finish up wiping down the counters, glance at the time—definitely cutting it close—and head toward the dining room to tidy up a bit.

Topper was not the type to notice if the place is spotless, but you always liked things to look... presentable, yourself included.

You heard the doorbell ring in the distance, he was early as usual, probably checking his watch just to make sure he wasn't a second late.

"Of course he’s early," you muttered to yourself, a little smirk pulling at your lips.

You walked towards the front door, ready to greet him, but when you opened it, your eyes immediately locked onto the large takeout bag in his hand. It smelled... amazing.

Topper grinned at you, an exaggerated flourish as he held up the bag.

“Guess what I brought?”

“You brought... Korean chicken wings? Really?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” He stepped inside, completely ignoring any formalities and heading straight toward the kitchen, “They just opened.”

He placed the bag on the counter with the confidence of a man who knew he’s just won “Best Dinner Host” without even trying. You peeked inside, the crispy wings drenched in a glossy, sweet-spicy sauce that looked downright delicious.

Topper laughed and took a seat, pulling out the wings, not even bothering with plates. “You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes but sat next to him, picking up a wing, the heat of it still making your fingers tingle. The crispy exterior cracked open with a satisfying crunch as you bit into it. It was everything you'd hoped for—tangy, spicy, perfectly cooked. You nearly moaned in pleasure, not even caring that your cousin was watching you with that cocky grin on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen the light,” He teased, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed a wing of his own.

“I mean,” you said, savoring another bite, “this might make up for you barging in uninvited.”

“Barging?” He clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense radiating from every inch of him. “I'm saving you from a night of sad dinners, and this is the thanks I get?”

You gave him a pointed look, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.

“Fine. Thank you, Topper. You’re the hero of the day. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he said, grinning as he reached for another wing. “What’s new? Still slumming it with my ex and the Pogues?”

“First of all,” you said, wiping your fingers on a napkin, “slumming it implies I’m suffering, which I’m not. And second, Sarah’s not a pogue. She’s pogue-adjacent.”

“Pogue-adjacent?” He snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time over there.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you shot back. “You basically live at Kildare Brewing these days. That’s like, one pogue away from full assimilation.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, realizing you had a point. “Okay, fair. But only because they have good beer."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity got the better of you. You hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you knew by experience, that was never a good thing.

“So... Ruthie,” you started, watching him over the rim of your glass as you took a sip.

Topper paused mid-chew, looking up at you like he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation. “What about her?”

“I mean, you two are still together, aren’t you?”

He wiped his hands on a napkin. “We’re… not talking right now.”

You tried not to look pleased, but a rush of vindication bloomed in your chest. You'd grown to hate her, plain and simple. Her recent proximity to your cousin had always baffled you. He wasn’t perfect, but surely, he could do better. 

“I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, reaching for another wing. But then he stopped, like whatever he was thinking was messing with his head.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to sound more curious, concerned, than nosy.

You weren’t sure if he’d tell you, but the look on his face made it clear something big had gone down.

He hesitated, debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. “She... started a rumor about you.”

Your head jerked back in surprise. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced like he’d swallowed something sour. “She said you passed out at the beach cleanup and decided to spread some bullshit about you doing drugs.”

You just stared at him. “She what?”

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised.

You knew what she was capable better than anyone, especially when she was bored out of her mind.

“I didn’t believe it,” he added quickly, his tone defensive, as if that made it better. “I told her to shut the fuck up about it, but you know how she is. She thought it was funny.”

“Funny?” Your voice was sharp now, “She thought it was funny to spread lies about me? About drugs? What the fuck?”

“Yeah, it’s so messed up. That’s why I’m not talking to her. I told her if she couldn’t act like a fucking decent human being, we were done.”

You blinked, stunned.

You weren’t sure what shocked you more—the fact that Ruthie had stooped so low or that Topper had finally stood up to her. You shook your head, biting back another nasty comment about how awful she was. You’d been saying it for months, and he hadn’t listened.

No point in beating a dead horse now.

“It’s about time you saw what she’s really like. She’s really bad fuckin’ news, Top. Always has been.”

He gave a low grunt, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. “Yeah. Took me long enough, huh?”

You didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow and sipped your water.

“She’s always been weird about Sarah,” Topper muttered, almost to himself. “Even when we were together, she’d find these ways to dig at her. Like that one time at Midsummers—”

“—When she ‘accidentally’ spilled her drink on Sarah’s dress,” you finished, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I remember. She’s always had this thing about trying to one-up her. Honestly, it’s so pathetic. But you never listen to me, so.”

“Okay, ouch.” He threw a crumpled napkin at you, which you easily dodged. “I listen to you sometimes.”

“Do you, though?” You gave him a pointed look.

“Yeah, I do!” Topper protested, though the whine in his voice made him sound more like the teenager he used to be, back when he’d follow you around during family holidays like a puppy. “Just… selectively.”

“Selective listening isn’t listening, dumbass. You’re just proving my point.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but didn’t answer, reaching for another wing instead. He took a bite, chewing dramatically, as if the exaggerated crunch would somehow end the conversation.

“Look, I’ve been saying for months that Ruthie’s bad news. Since she showed up at last year’s Christmas party wearing a dress identical to Sarah’s, just in a different color. You thought that was a coincidence?”

Topper groaned, dropping the wing. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Are you happy now? Can you stop rubbing it in?”

You grinned, propping your chin on your hand.

“Oh, I could. But what kind of older cousin would I be if I didn’t remind you how often you’re wrong?”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

You shrugged. “Old enough to know better than to date someone that awful.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. I get it.” He looked over at you again, his gaze softer, this time, “But seriously, you’ve been off lately. If there’s something going on, you can tell me, y’know? We’re family, even if I don’t listen to you half the time,” he added with a small smile, though his eyes were searching, hoping you’d let him in.

It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that you were pregnant, scheduled for an abortion in six days, and drowning in uncertainty and dread.

But he was still Rafe’s best friend, and the risk of this ever reaching him was too high. Instead, you forced a lightness into your voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And right now, I desperately need the bathroom.”

He looked at you skeptically, not fooled for a second.

“You’re really okay?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a level that told you he wasn’t going to let this go easily, "I texted and called before, you didn't answer. Thought you were resting from the scare."

You’d been having such a calm, easy time with Sarah, you almost forgot about everything else. The thought of picking up the phone, letting all that anxiety and worry back in, just wasn’t appealing—so you’d ignored his calls, but not on purpose. You were doing him a favor.

You plastered on a smile and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you passed. “I promise, I’m fine. Just felt a little light-headed and needed some peace."

His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. “That’s all?”

You forced a giggle, hoping it would sound more genuine than it felt. “Yes, Dr. Thornton. Just needed to eat more or drink water or whatever the fuck it is you’re always telling me to do.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, crossing his arms, watching you closely. “Because you’ve never just fainted before.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think I’d tell you if something serious was wrong?”

It took everything to maintain eye contact, your stomach twisting at the lie. He was family, and you wanted to trust him, to let him help you. But you couldn’t. He hadn’t even told you about Rafe and Sofia until you found out by yourself. 

Topper tilted his head, considering you, then sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, fine.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weird,” You pushed back from the counter, grabbing your glass. “I gotta pee,” you announced casually, as if this was the most normal interjection in the world. The wings were good, but running away was tempting. And also, the pregnancy had made your bladder a ticking time bomb, and you really didn’t want to risk any accidents. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You offered him one last smile, hoping it was convincing enough. He whined some sarcastic comment about your water consumption as you hurried away, but you barely heard him.

All you thought about was the blessed relief that awaited on the other side of that door.

You didn’t usually spend this much time with Top nowadays—your own tendency to avoid “close” family drama—but tonight had been oddly… nice.

Even if you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck half the time. Even if you hated lying to him. If he’d just pushed a little harder, maybe you would’ve folded, let it all spill right there in the kitchen.

Every time you thought you’d come to a decision, another doubt would take over you, leaving you back at square one. You knew what you wanted, so why was this so hard? 

Topper had looked at you with such genuine concern back there. The “if you need me, I’m here” sentiment was the same one you’d grown up with, the kind of care only a cousin, practically a sibling, could have.

This was hard.

When you came back into the kitchen after taking your sweet time in the bathroom you immediately noticed something was off.

Topper was by the counter, staring at the half-eaten pile of wings by the table like they’d personally offended him. He looked paler, too—almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“Uh…” You stopped mid-step, furrowing your brow. “What’s with the stupid face? Did the wings betray you or something?”

He jolted slightly, as if he hadn’t even heard you come in. “What? No. No, the wings are fine. Great. Amazing, even.”

“Okay…” You gave him a skeptical look, setting your glass down and crossing your arms. 

Topper laughed, but it was this oddly nervous, stilted sound. He glanced at his phone, tapping the screen for no real reason, then shoved it into his pocket.

“You know what, though? I totally forgot—I have something planned. Like, super important. In about… ten minutes.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You forgot you had plans? Sounds fake, but okay.”

“So unlike me!” He got up from his chair with such sudden energy that it made you take a step back. “Anyway, I should really get going. Don’t want to be late. Uh, thanks for… hanging out. And for, uh, letting me use your wings as a form of therapy. Yeah. Later!”

And with that, he was sprinting for the door.

“Topper!” you called after him, confused and mildly annoyed. “What the hell is going on? You’re acting fuckin’ weird!”

“Nope, not weird! Just busy!” he shot back over his shoulder, not even looking at you as he opened the door.

You didn’t have time to yell at him before he disappeared out the door, the sound of his Jeep starting up echoing from the driveway a moment later. You stood there bewildered, staring at the now-empty doorway.

Something was definitely up. He was many things—dramatic, stubborn, occasionally insufferable—but shifty wasn’t usually one of them.

You went back to the kitchen, glancing at the counter, ready to brush off his weird exit as just another of his dramatics, when your eyes landed on a random envelope— the one you’d been using to scribble down everything lately. 

Extra small grocery lists, reminders, and, unfortunately, the number for the abortion clinic.

Rafe’s fingers curled loosely around the tumbler of bourbon, eyes set on nothing in particular. The lunch rush was winding down, country club regulars filing out.

He’d been there for over an hour—first, the meeting, listening to those finance guys ramble on about numbers, projections, all that bullshit he usually liked to hear. 

He’d faked his interest well enough, but his mind had been miles away. Mostly thinking about you. And the company, of course, because that was his priority right now. Or, it should be.

The whole thing with you, three days ago, it was a slow-mind-burning headache he couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. And he had wanted to, tried to, in fact.

He took another slow sip, hardly tasting the bourbon. Across the room, Sofia was working between tables, balancing trays and forcing her best country club smile.

All he saw when he looked at her was you, it only made him force down another swallow, running his thumb over the rim of the glass, mind somewhere between the company projections and the mess he’d made of things with you. 

It was ridiculous that you were still in his head. He should be thinking about that deal, about locking down his place in the Cameron empire. 

Rafe pushed the glass aside, signaling for the check when something caught his ear—a conversation from a nearby table.

“Yeah, she actually passed out the other day. Pathetic.” The voice was loud, sneering.

A dude’s voice followed, fake sympathy dripping from his tone. “I heard she was a fuckin’ mess after the whole breakup.”

“Oh, totally.” A different girl laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “She’s probably on something. Can you blame her? I’d be desperate too if he dumped me.”

It didn’t take a fucking genius to know who they were talking about. Small town and all, of course, things got around, mostly turning into half-truths and petty rumors.

He stopped all his movements, jaw clenching. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, the only thing keeping him from breaking something, preferably bones.

They were talking about you. 

About some made-up version of you, the fact that these spoiled, airheaded brats thought they could shit talk about you like that, rip you apart for fun just because you weren’t there to defend yourself made him sick.

He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room with long strides. He didn’t care about the eyes following him as he walked up to their table, the laughter stopping the moment they looked up and saw the look on his face.

“What did you just say?”

The girl who’d been laughing, a petite brunette with too much makeup and a self-satisfied smirk, blinked up at him, her smile faltering.

“Oh, Rafe! We didn’t see you there. We were just…joking around,” she stammered, trying to backpedal.

“Joking?” He laughed, the sound making them flinch. “That what you call it? Spreading some bullshit rumor because it’s all your pathetic little lives have to offer?”

The brunette’s face went red. “I mean, we all heard about it. I’m just saying what everyone’s already thinking—”

His fists clenched and his patience, already thin, snapped the second he heard the guy—one of those trust fund preps with an overdone tan and a too-tight polo—chime in.

“Oh, come on, dude,” the guy smirked, leaning back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not like she’s worth all that trouble, is she?”

His entire body went rigid, and before he registered it, he was leaning down, letting them feel the weight of his glare.

“Say that shit again,” Rafe taunted him, something almost amused twisting at the edge of his mouth, daring him to keep talking. “I’d love to hear you repeat yourself.”

“Relax, man—”

He didn’t even let him finish, eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, more dangerous than shouting ever could be.

“You think it’s funny? Talking about someone who’s not even here to defend herself?”

The guy’s face paled, and Rafe swore he was seconds away from landing a punch, from wiping that smug grin off his face. Just as he prepared his fist, ready to make good on his threat, he felt a hand on his arm, a small, insistent tug. 

“Rafe,” a soft voice hissed. Sofia. He barely glanced at her, shrugging off her grip.

“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharp, dismissive.

He kept his eyes on the guy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second, squirming in his seat.

Sofia’s hand still hovering near his arm, cautious now. “Rafe, come on, this isn’t worth it. You’re better than this.”

She looked scared. Scared of him, scared of the situation. He wasn’t better than this.

He’d never been, and he’d been good enough at lying and pretending for her even to think that.

You would’ve known better.

Fuck, you wouldn’t have wasted time talking.

You would’ve yanked him back by his collar, shoved yourself between him and the guy, shot him that warning glare, daring him to keep pushing you so you’d have to drag him out by force. You always knew when he’d get like this, that edge in his voice, that look in his eye that told you he was seconds away from snapping. You knew better than anyone how to pull him back when he hit that switch.

But you’d never bothered with gentle.

Sofia’s eyes darted around the room, clearly embarrassed, maybe even afraid of drawing attention. He knew this wasn’t fair to her, that she hadn’t signed up for this part of him—the anger, the unpredictability. It wasn’t in his nature to stay silent, to ignore things and walk away. 

He could almost see it—feel it, like a familiar bruise under his skin. You’d shove him hard enough that he’d stumble back, half-pissed and half-shocked. You’d get in his face, not even close to scared, cutting through his spiral. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? You wanna end up in jail over some loser? Grow up.”

If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have given him a choice. You’d have grabbed his arm and dragged him away, kept a grip on him until he’d snapped out of whatever dark place he’d dropped into. You’d push him until he finally let go, forced him to come down from that blinding fury and face the mess he’d just caused. It was the only way he’d ever been able to listen—when you pushed him to wake up, forced him to look at himself and see just how reckless, just how stupid he was about to be.

But Sofia? She had no idea. 

She thought saying “you’re better than this” was going to do anything, that with a light touch and some empty words, he’d suddenly be calm, reasonable, soft. 

But he’d never been that way, never with you, never with anyone.

She hadn’t done anything wrong; she’d just seen the version of him he’d wanted her to see. The version he’d put together, patched up and polished, all so he could convince himself he was something he wasn’t.

With her, it was easy to pretend. He could smooth his sharp edges, show her just enough of himself to keep her interested without letting her close enough to see the mess underneath.

He’d let her believe he was the kind of guy who could just calm down, let things slide. The kind of guy who’d listen. He’d wanted her to believe he was controlled, calm. Sofia’s softness had appealed to him, but now, it only highlighted the differences between them.

With you, he’d never had the luxury of pretending.

You’d seen through him from the start, never let him get away with putting on some act.

You hadn’t let him pretend to be better than he was, hadn’t let him off easy when he’d tried to brush things off or shut down. You knew every side of him, even the ones he’d rather ignore. You’d always known exactly who he was, who he wasn’t, and you’d never been afraid to remind him.

He didn’t want to let it go, didn’t want to give the guy an inch of leeway to think he’d won this. Rafe sighed and released his grip, his hand falling from the table as he finally stepped back. Sofia relaxed, giving him a relieved smile, but it only made him feel emptier. 

“You talk about her again and I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” 

The guy sputtered, looking down, embarrassed and shaken. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an apology, but Rafe didn’t care enough to hear it.

Sofia’s hand was still on his tail when he left, and as soon as he walked out of earshot of the table, she followed him, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with an expression he’d never seen from her —disbelief. 

“What was that?”

Everything.

Rafe didn’t speak. He was staring past her, back at the group, mind far from the confrontation and miles away with thoughts of you. She seemed to notice, her lips pressing together.

“I can’t believe you did that. You threatened to kill him, Rafe. Over what, a stupid rumor?”

A stupid rumor? She was making him feel like he was out of control, irrational—even though he couldn’t explain why this mattered so much.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s not your problem.”

She flinched a little, her face falling, but to her credit, she didn’t look away. “You’re right. I don’t get it. Tell me.”

He wanted to believe that it could work with Sofia.

Nice girl, pretty too. She laughed at his jokes, and she didn’t call him out on his bullshit, because she didn’t even know that side of him existed. On paper, she was perfect. But she wasn't you.

He looked back at her, her worried eyes scanning his face.

It was frustrating—seeing the fear, feeling her judgment when she didn’t even know what she was judging.

To her, this was just some meaningless outburst, something he could turn on and off at will. This wasn’t her fault. He knew that. He hated how this wasn’t something he couldn't put into words, not in any way that would make sense to her.

“Forget it, alright?” his tone was harsher than he meant.

Sofia shook her head, clearly not willing to let it drop this time.

“Why would you get so worked up over something like this?"

To her, that’s all this was—just noise, harmless, inconsequential. 

She looked up at him expectantly, her brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for some reasonable answer.

And it pissed him off, how she kept waiting, expecting him to offer some calm, measured response when he didn’t even understand it himself.

Sofia’s eyes softened, but it only irritated him further.

“She’s nice,” Her words drifted out casually like she didn’t know she’d just cracked him open. “She defended me, last week, when I was serving brunch.”

He couldn’t stop the self-loathing.

You had always been that way—ready to defend anyone, even when you were the one hurting. Rafe winced, hating himself for it, hating that you could still be so good even after everything. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression blank.

“Did she?” he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

“Yeah,” Sofia replied, watching his reaction with mild curiosity. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, that familiar hurt in his chest.

His mind was already conjuring all the times you’d jumped in, backed people up, and called out anyone who crossed a line. Even when it came to people you barely knew.

It made him feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that you’d been there for Sofia of all people, that you’d shown her that same loyalty. It made him hate himself even more.

His phone buzzed, saving him from the inevitable conversation, his hand brushed the side of his face as he glanced down at the unknown number flashing across the screen. He didn’t hesitate, before swiping the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Cameron, this is Dr. Harris from the hospital,” the voice on the other end said. “We’ve been trying to reach Miss Thornton about the blood work results from her visit three days ago. Unfortunately, there’s been an issue with our system and a few patient’s data has been deleted, except for the emergency contact information.”

Rafe’s stomach dropped.

He was still your emergency contact, not by choice probably. The hospital was calling about your blood work.

Was something wrong?

His blood ran cold. “Is she okay? Did something happen?” The urgency in his tone made Sofia’s eyes widen again, her confusion growing.

“We’re concerned about a possible infection. We need to run more tests to rule it out, but the symptoms suggest it could be more complicated. We must check thoroughly to be sure.”

“An infection?”

“Yes, but it could be nothing serious. We just need her to come in as soon as possible for a follow-up,” Dr. Harris explained.

There was a pause as if he expected Rafe to say something reassuring or offer to pass on the message. 

Sofia’s brows knitted together as she watched him. “Rafe?” 

“I’ll tell her,” he said, the words cracked in his throat. The doctor thanked him and hung up.

He stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again with more news, a reassurance that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. 

You probably hadn’t changed your emergency contact because it slipped your mind.

He couldn’t stand the idea that something could be wrong, and he was not the one you called when you needed someone. All he’d ever done was mess things up between you.

“What’s going on?”

How the fuck was he going to tell you when you'd blocked him everywhere?

He couldn’t call, couldn’t text, couldn’t even show up unannounced without risking the usual argument that would end with you screaming at him to get out, or worse, you looking at him with that unforgiving stare.

He knew you’d locked every door, bolted every window to keep him out, and he deserved it. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, the lie slipping out automatically. He could feel her studying him, waiting for another explanation he also didn’t have the patience to give.

Maybe Topper could help.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—he’d given your cousin the mission of checking in on you, playing the careful messenger while Rafe kept his distance. That was supposed to be him.

But the reality was you hated him now, hated him enough that Topper was a safer option and yet, the private information still landed on his lap. As if he still had the right to be in your orbit, let alone the person trusted with this kind of news.

It felt wrong.

He knew you were going to hate him even more for still having access to your private details. It wasn’t really his fault—the hospital called him. He should have hung up the moment the hospital mentioned your name, told them they had the wrong guy. But he didn’t. He listened. 

“If you need to go—” she started, trailing off when he didn’t answer. Her voice softened, tentative. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Rafe’s jaw ticked, and he looked away, out at the horizon where the sun was setting.  “Yeah,” he muttered, not bothering to lie this time.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed something out, then deleted it, then typed again.

Finally, he just went with the simplest thing he could think of and hit send.

Can we meet up? Tannyhill in 30. I think I know what’s wrong.

He half-expected some lame excuse or joke from Topper. Instead, the text he got made the deep lines across his forehead make an appearance.

Shit, you do???

Did the fucker already know?

Did he suspect? Or was this just the kind of baited question someone asked when they thought they were the last to know something big?

He frowned, gripping the phone tighter.

If Topper did know, why hadn’t he said anything?

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[berzahoes]

moments | tom blyth

summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)

an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼

ON SET OF BILLY THE KID

since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).

“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.

“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”

“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.

“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”

“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”

“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.

eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.

“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.

“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.

“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.

“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.

the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.

“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.

then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.

“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.

“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.

before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.

LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY

it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.

“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.

“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.

tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.

“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.

“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”

“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.

“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.

“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.

eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.

KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL

“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.

“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.

“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.

“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.

“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.

“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.

“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”

“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.

the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.

“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.

“is tom blyth single?”

the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.

“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.

“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.

“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”

[miru667]

The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!

Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!

Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:

Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP

Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆

Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:

-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now

-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment

-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)

-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe. You guys can pretend the arms holding the phone is Miss Funce-ler.

-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.

-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:

This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔

So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]

What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, the fact that I was able to include every truffula colour, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊

That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!

[icarusredwings]

Watching interviews from the olden days and finding gold.

Finding out that Hugh Jackman having to "be the alarm clock" for James Mcavoy and Micheal Fassbender because of how hung over they were is simply hilarious.

Also finding out that James slammed them into a Lexus (only doing 12 miles an hour) got thrown 10 feet, immediately got up and looked back to see Micheal (who was once on the back of the golf cart) now sitting upright in the drivers seat after smacking his head on the seat and got a gash scar on his leg from it- Only to start "maniacally laughing" and literally RAN AWAY once blamed, Is also so young cherik coded.

These crack heads definitely were getting into some nonsense trouble.

Micheal saying he thought the scene from the strip club with charles and angel "I thought we looked like the two old men from the muppets"

Micheal calling the x men "Charlie- boy's kids". Perfection.

Also the way James looks at him when ever Micheal just bursts out into song is so pure. The "wow this idiot... thats my idiot." Glitter in his eye.

James finding out that Micheal isn't american by driving up to him on a vespa, and screaming at him in his normal voice is so funny.

"Fuck you erik-"

"His names derik."

"How long has he name been derik?"

"Since the begining- you just keep calling him that."

Even the bloopers of Hank and Charles are such a vibe.

"Hold your breath but make it look like you aren't holding your breath" Man these leather suits gave them so many problems fr.

"I already said im not a man. I cant jump this damn wall!" I think storm says as the director goes right up to hugh and is like "Litsen when I say so youre gonna jump this wall" and hughs like idk about that mate. "Ill be talking to you through the big microphone that everyone hates" says the director. "Were gonna take the batteries out if it" says someone else.

Hughs stunt double: *screams*

Hugh: Let it go sis

Hughs stunt double: *dies*

Something about how the directors talk to hugh and how hugh speaks directly to multiple set members makes me feel like half the cuts they had to make was because of him joking and being a silly theater kid LMAO

Everyone randomly dancing all the time, including old magneto.

James too. The blooper of him violently killing a bug on the chess set in the plane scene is so "insane charles" iconic.

Also poor Evan peters. He kept slipping everywhere. And theres so many shots where hes just standing there in charater getting absolutely soaked while charles and Logan do some ridiculous shit lol. Him at panels is so awkward too. Describe your character " hes a little weird uhhhh hes fast. Hes quick. He talks fast he runs fast..... uhhh its like at the atm waiting for the bastard infront of you to move out the way" "I wish my dad magneto could try these 😀" "thats my dad"

Evan also wishes they would have done the scene in apocalypse where he tells him hes his son and all the metal in the room drops. Im someone has written this already but that sounds great.

"THATS MY SON, QUICKSILVER!" Shouts Micheal multiple times. "My boy!" "Its in the genes darling." "I had him when I was very young 😁"

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE ONE : PIZZA DELIVERY !

Starring… PORTGAS D. ACE 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Hi hi hi!!! For the follower request event, can i get a pizza delivery Ace? Sweet boy, kinda clueless, and a sweet reader as well? 🥹❤️”

MATURE WARNING(S) : unprotected penetrative sex, cheesy porno dialogue, cunnilings (you sit on his face), slight breeding kink if you squint, afab/fem reader, Ace thinks you’re really pretty, thick!dick ace (canon), switchy!ace, & he calls you “sweetheart/pretty girl.”

DIRECTORS CUT : for my love @kingofthe-egirls !!! I loved this prompt so much and have been itching to complete it since I saw it. Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy. 🖤

A Friday night with nothing to do, a product of boredom. You didn’t feel like doing anything tonight, especially cooking. Sitting in your apartment in shorts too tiny for your ass and a tight tank top, waiting for your pizza delivery.

Getting your usual favorite combo from the local shop guarantees a good comfort meal with some quiet TV before you head to bed. The couch offers you adequate back support after a long week at your desk, sighing and falling into the cushions while ads play in the background as ambiant noise.

Time slips you before there’s a series of knocks at your door, playing a rhythm as you’re pulled from your trance. “Yo, Delivery.”

Checking the peep hole before unlocking the door you’re faced with the cutest delivery boy. He’s in shitty combat boots and cargo shorts matched with a half buttoned uniform shirt. His long wavy black hair kept under a hat as he reads the receipt, “a large pizza for y/n?” You open the door wider as you step into frame. “Ohhh, for miss pretty y/n,” he corrects himself, tipping his hat at you with a smile.

Giggling slightly you cover your mouth, “yeah, y/n. Thank you so much, let me get my wallet.” You wish you could invite such a cutie inside but you know it’s against better judgement. Turning around you make your way through the apartment looking for your wallet.

Ace, the delivery boy, grins watching your dainty ass sway as you saunter back inside. Tiny shorts riding up between your cheeks as you bend over the counter, but he’s just the delivery boy. A distressed look crosses your face before you walk back to the doorway where he’s leaning. One arm holding your pizza and another flexing as he rests his weight into it.

“Everythin’ ok?” A pretty girl like you should never have such a perturbed look spread across your face like that.

You lean forward, studying his name tag. “I’m sorry Ace, I can’t seem to find my wallet. I must’ve left it at work.” Feeling like an idiot you’re barely able to look at him. The guilt of making him come all the way from across town to deliver your order setting in.

“I can help ya find it,” he offers, ignoring the fact he’s on the clock. It’s not the first time something like this has happened at work, just not to someone so enticing.

“No no,” biting your lip as you try to think of a solution that’ll remedy the situation. You look at him, worried to find an annoyed expression on his face but you heat up finding such a soft handsome gaze thrown your way. A complete stranger so bothered by your troubles. “How bout I pay you back? Whaddya say?”

Confused, he tilts his head; was that not the problem in the first place? “How,” he asks curiously.

Looking into the hallway, you check down both ends before tugging him inside by the collar. “Like this.” Leaning on your tip toes not letting go of his shirt you kiss him softly, taking over his senses with your soft plush lips against his. Ace drops the pizza and doesn’t even bother to catch it as it clatters to the floor. “That ok with you?” Your eyes looking at his lips and then back to the rest of his face.

He’s lit up bright red as he nods dumbly, “more than ok.”

You push him back against your front door chasing his lips once more. He tastes like cinnamon gum as you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, eager for entry into his mouth. He grants it to you unquestionably, equally craving the feel of your heated tongue sliding against his. Muffled groans escaping him as your hands caress his warm exposed skin beneath his shirt.

“You’re s’good at this,” he says in between each wet smack of your mouthes. His hands wrapping and groping along your waist and backside, kneading the plump flesh like playdough. The cutest part is he’s much taller than you, bending down so you can kiss him how you want.

“You think so? I can get better.” One of your hands leaves his chest, trailing down his toned body as you palm his hardening cock in your hand. “Oh, and you’re so big Ace. Almost like you’re paying me with all this.” Heavy breaths leaving him as you cup his dick tenderly and give such feverish love to his neck all at once. It has him rutting into your hand trying to satiate that itch that’s been bothering him ever since he saw you in the doorway. Little shorts leaving nothing to the imagination.

You unzip his cargos, leaving only his thin boxers between his growing length and your nimble fingers. He rolls his hips harder each time you tease the waist band and lick his lips as you both swap saliva. “Stop teasin, thought I was ‘sposed to get paid.”

“You’ll get compensated, delivery boy,” you grab him by the belt loops as you lead him to your couch. Smiling as you push him back, he plops against the cushion with a soft ‘hmp’. Ace takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side as he man spreads to ease the ache in his balls, bulging erection awaiting your attention. “Want your dick sucked or what?”

While that sounds like a great idea, Ace is more eager to taste the sweetness between your legs. “Sit on my face pretty girl, wanna eat you.” He pulls you by the back of your thighs, edging you closer to his body as he starts to slide down your shorts. His forwardness makes you glow, slotting your hands in his hair, ruffling it slightly while he tends to your clothes. For a delivery boy, he sure knows the art of seduction. You’re practically dripping for him already.

He kisses your hipbone while waiting for you to join him on the couch. Sliding down the cushions, grabbing hold of your legs as you mount and hold the backing. “You sure?” He stares up at you from the valley of your swell breasts and smooth tummy, not having any of your objections. He sits up to swipe his wet muscle from your clit down. A soft ‘oh’ leaving your lips as he gets to work.

“Mhhm,” he moans as he taste you, almost analyzing its components like a savory sauce. He plants his hands on your waist, pulling you down further onto his mouth— it’s as if he’s not afraid of suffocating down there.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, dipping and curving his tongue into your oozing hole before suckling on your clit. He ignores the mixture of spit and slick on his chin as he devours you greedily. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good, could eat this every day.”

Your soft moans encourage him to give you more, he needs you to fuck his face. He uses those same hands to hook around your ass and thighs, dragging you down on his tongue as he licks your insides. “Oh shit, ah— wait Ace,” you try to sit up, running from all the attention but it’s no use.

His strong arms keep you planted in place, “no runnin’ m not done yet.” Fuck this guy is hot, it’s like he’s straight out of a shitty 80’s porno as he makes you cream against his mouth. He slurps and sucks your hole as you whine loose chants of his name.

Adding his hands into the mix when he slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you. Scissoring your tight walls, you shake feeling those calloused pads massage your g-spot. “Gotta cum for me sweetheart, then I’ll fuck you as a tip.”

It feels even closer cause his tongue does not relent from your throbbing bud. Sliding it back and forth while his fingers give you something to squeeze on. “Yes yes, like that!” You sound so raunchy taking advantage of his face; running your hips in a figure eight along his tongue.

He’s grinding against the air trying to find friction, shallow thrusts up that match the pace of his fingers inside you. So close, you start pinching your nipple trying to tip yourself over the edge of raw pleasure. The pizza delivery boy of course notes this, groaning as he watches you play with yourself. He wants to replace his hand with yours, pinching and tugging at your dark bud. But, he has to keep you in place while he fucks you on his fingers. “Gonna— oh fuck,” here it comes.

Your orgasm crashes hard, washing over you in one big wave as you almost collapse on his face. He drinks whatever you offer as you whine and cry out, it’s too good. “Think you’re stretched? Cause I really wanna fuck you now. Ya look really hot when you cum.”

He’s swiping the culminating wetness from his face into his mouth, sucking the fingers he had inside you like a greedy bastard. Licking and suctioning onto the pads to emphasize how needy he is for you. Oh, he’s good.

“Be my guest, pretty boy.” Ace has never really thought of himself as pretty, so hearing someone as beautiful as you say it, it must be true. He flushes a light shade of pink while removing the rest of his clothes.

“Condom?” Like an idiot, he didn’t bring any and his wallets downstairs in the shitty delivery car where he typically keeps one if he’s lucky.

“Want you inside, I’m on the pill.” Oh.. and he gets to pound you raw? He’ll definitely be coming back here. Shaking your ass back and forth at him as if to invite him over. “Cmon I want the tip already.” He laughs at your two way pun, rubbing your ass in his hands as he marvels the sight of you bent over the side of the couch.

Ace sees his hard work continuing to drip down the insides of your thighs, smirking while lining his fat tip up with your cunt. He spits in his hand before pumping himself to make sure it’ll fit just right. You’re pushed forward till your hips meet the arm of the couch, sandwiched between two immovable forces.

He’s trying his hardest to not just slam into you, your pussy is so warm and wet around his cock and there’s nothing separating the two of you. You’re squirming from the sheer size of his length even after all that work he did to prep you. “Doin’ so good taking all of me sweetheart. Just a lil’ more.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying that for you or himself at this point, the way your bare walls grip his cock makes him double over.

The couch gives before Ace does, each thrust of his strong hips into you makes it creak and slide forward. He starts off with deep punctuated strokes, each one earning a high pitched cry from you. He’s pummeling your cunny, making your hips rub against the arm as your knees begin to buckle.

“Feelin’ good pretty girl?” But when you go to open your mouth any answer is replaced with moans that sound so pornagraphic. “Fuck your cunts so good. Suckin’ me in.” Being drilled by the hunk of a man behind you and the friction of being fucked into the couch is bringing you near your second orgasm of the night, you start to feel it licking at your insides tentatively.

Ace isn’t in much better shape himself, fucking your pussy raw is taking all of him to shoot his load right in you. He needs to get his moneys worth after all. “Can’t cum yet pretty, wanna see you.”

He moves you both to the couch so you’re flat on your back, one leg hooked around his small waist as another dangles off the couch. “Easy baby, remember to breathe,” he says before easing himself back in. That feeling of fullness returns and brings a dopamine rush with it as he flashes a toothy smile your way. Savoring the feeling of sliding his tip through the gummy resistance.

Your body is so warm beneath him as he drives in and out of your soaking cunt. “Cmon’ give it to me baby. Know you were so close…” Ace trails a hand down your abdomen, spreading his palm across your stomach as leverage while he fucks you stupid. Hair shrouding his face as he coos at you. “Please, dont wanna without you.”

The way he pleads for you is what does it, breaking the dam that was holding back another mind shattering orgasm from this sexy delivery boy. “Ahh fuck, cumming— oh! I’m-” you’re gripping onto him for dear life, firm biceps not budging an inch even when you start to dig your nails into his skin.

It all happens so fast he doesn’t even realize he’s also cumming right behind you, too caught up in the way your sultry lips fall into an “O” shape as you scream his name loud enough to be heard by the entire complex. He buries himself to the hilt, mind boiling with the thought of how he’s fucking his cum into you raw. For some reason the idea only pushes him to not pull out, letting you keep all his seed as he mewls. “Take it, take it all,” sweat accumulating at his hairline.

You’re squeezing him like a damn vice while you come undone, face scrunched so pretty. It makes his cock ache inside you, relishing in the soft sighs that come from your parted lips.

You both start to come down from your lust filled highs when he speaks again, “mhhhm, you’re still a few cents short.” He kisses you, leaning forward and almost suffocating you into his large chest.

Oh boy, hopefully he clocked out.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

Cut!!!!!!! Actor Wally x Stagehand GN Reader Part 3

I made sure to add the rest of the TikTok on this one. Remember it’s by frillsand. Not me. I just like the au

🎬You sigh looking through the add pages for work. The studio was off today so no one’s knows you have been fired yet. Oh gosh you hope that the puppets will be ok when they find out you are gone. You search through all the adds and each job said you have to have experience in the field to be hired. You did not . Groaning , you finally find a job as a coffee maker at a cafe. No experience needed . Learning on the job. You circle it and decide to go call the number to see if they will hire you.

Days later

🍎Wally walks into work sipping on his drink seeing his friends upset. He’s asks what’s wrong and they say they haven’t seen you all day. He looks shocked and goes to ask the director where you are . He is silent. Wally growls and asks again. Where are you. The director says to not be mad and shows the sheet of paper with all the stage hands names on it to where the signed for (y/n) to be fired. Wally threw the papers from the directors desk. He says. Don’t expect any good scenes today. And that he is telling the others. He goes out and straightens his clothes. Fixing his hair and goes onto acting for now. Letting his friends know at the end of the day what happened.

🎬 You sigh and announce the name for the coffee you just made. You started to get the hang of this but it’s been a bit boring lately. Unlike the sound stage, you only a minimum wage employee dealing with unruly customers. You hope the puppet actors are being treated well. The television in the cafe starts an episode of Welcome Home but the actors don’t really seem like they into it . You look a bit worried. You hoped they were ok. They didn’t seem to have the energy or their smiles reaching their eyes. You sigh and clean the counter.

🍎Wally grumbles heading to a cafe because today they kept messing up his drinks no matter what he said. He was seriously about to wring their necks if you were not found and hired again. Entering the cafe, he had on a disguise. Plain bleh clothes, glasses, a hat on his head. He heads to the counter where one of your coworkers takes his order. You hadn’t noticed him and he you. As he sat down thinking of ideas to get you back, your in the back making his drink. You say that you got an apple cinnamon decaf coffee for a Mr. D. He comes up and gets his drink then becomes shocked . “(Y/n)????”

Cliffhanger for y’all. You got to wait till Saturday now. Lol. Again. Y’all are able to message me and ask questions tomorrow. No requests though. I got to rest. Love y’all

[imaginedanvrs]

home, sweet home

masterlist

dark(?)carol danvers x reader

word count: 4.5k

summary: when carol is sent a gift she refuses to accept, she discovers just how much she's been seeking a companion

warnings: human trafficking, past conditioning, elements of pet play, soft carol turned kind of dark? it's not her fault you're so cute

“I’m gonna have to call you back, Fury,” Carol mumbled, hanging up the coms device before the director could object. She stared down the unexpected delivery for a few short moments, trying to assess its reliability. She didn’t often get deliveries sent to her ship and it was even less common for them to be safe, though the small holes placed in the top of the crate sparked her curiosity enough to overcome her caution. 

  The Captain hooked her fingers under one of the top edges of the crate and pulled the lid off in one fluid motion and raised her glowing fist to shine on whatever creature was inside, slightly alarmed to see the face that peered up at her. Carol was quick to pull two of the sides off and grab the blanket that was hanging on the nearest chair to pass to you, becoming more confused when you merely stared at her blankly as you hugged your knees. 

  “Um, do you…hi,” Carol greeted tentatively as she placed the spotted blue blanket down in front of you and kept her eyes level with your own, hoping you would cover your bare form. You blinked, staring back blankly at the blonde crouching before you and gripped your knees tighter until there were half moons indented despite your nails having been cut the day before. She noticed the anxious gesture and moved back to give you some space, only then noticing the note attached to one of the discarded crate sides. 

  A gift of gratitude, the people of Krylor. Carol reread the note several times, taking a few moments to realise what your presence on her ship meant. Of course, she had heard the rumours of the intergalactic trade of humans that were passed around the cosmos, but she had never found enough solid evidence to even begin to tackle the issue until you arrived on her doorstep. Clearly the people of Krylor had greatly misinterpreted the kind of hero that Carol was if they had thought you were an appropriate gift, sparking a deep anger inside the Captain at such an assumption. 

  She looked back at you and immediately softened her features upon seeing the clear fear in your wide eyes that watched her apprehensively. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured with a nervous smile, entirely unsure of how she was meant to deal with you. “Do you understand me?” She asked. You nodded. “Good, good…” she muttered. “You can come out of there if you want,” she offered, backing away again. You continued to watch her without moving a muscle. She nodded as she glanced around her ship for any clues as to what to do with you. She couldn’t keep you there, that much was clear. But where could you go? 

  Of what Carol had heard about the human trade, they all carried the brand symbol somewhere on their body which meant that the blonde had to be cautious where she sent you in case you ended up back in the wrong hands. Of all the people Carol could trust with you, none of them were better suited to take care of you. Her allies bases were too hectic to place you in, the most neutering planets wouldn’t be able to protect you if needed and other heroes stuck to themselves as much as she did. That only left her with New Asgard, though Carol had sent so many refugees Valkyrie's way that she was hesitant to give her more to deal with. It was easier to do when they were together and Carol could be around more to help, but since the mutual break up Carol's distance meant she couldn’t always aid her people. 

  The Captain glanced back at you mid pace where you were still glued to the spot and redirected herself to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and placed it down next to the crate. You didn’t acknowledge it. “You should drink something. I’m sure it’s been a long journey,” Carol winced. She pushed the glass closer and stepped away. “Drink,” she insisted, which seemed to click something in your mind. You reached forward, but instead of holding the glass, you made your hand into a scoop and reached inside to gather some water in your hand and bring it up to your mouth. 

  “No, you-” Carol went to interject, startling you enough to shrink back into your crate. “Sorry,” she muttered, wondering if it would be best just to leave you for a while. You were clearly scared and confused and understandably didn’t trust the person you had been gifted to. Carol just wanted to try and communicate some reassurance to you, but she supposed that if you weren’t going to be with her for very long then there wasn’t much point in putting you through the additional stress it would take to get there. But sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. 

  Taking a hold of the back of the crate, Carol pulled it against her as she walked backwards through the small ship and felt you stumble back inside. She brought you over to the corner between her sleeping area and the control panel and slotted the crate as far back as she could before grabbing a new blanket and hanging it over the front as a makeshift curtain, leaving a small gap in the side for you to peer through. It was the best she could do to make you feel safe for the time being. She placed the water back outside and put together a sandwich for you to eat, unsure of what you were used to and hoping that you would be okay with what she had. 

  “Okay, you can handle this,” Carol said to herself, a habit she had developed ever since spending the majority of her time alone with Goose who wasn’t big on conversation. She gathered that you weren't either. 

  “Crap,” she muttered when she saw her route to Earth was going to take a few days and that she would have to stop on the way for fuel too. She glanced back and noticed that the spotted blanket had vanished only to realise you had pulled it in. Carol smiled at that, hoping it gave you some kind of comfort, and looked around for some clothes for you to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt, some underwear and sweatpants and placed them outside your crate with the announcement that they were there. She wasn’t entirely sure you would take them, but a hand crept out from behind the curtain and dragged them inside. 

  Carol figured it was best to leave you to it for a while and turned back to her control panels that monitored any unusual activities in the galaxies closest. There was always work to be done, even if she did have a guest in her home. It was common for the blonde to spend several hours there without realising and it was always Goose that snapped her out of her workaholic trance, though that time the flerken did so in a new way. 

  Carol turned around at the sound of a distant meow, assuming she had gotten herself trapped in a cupboard as she often did when she went wandering around the ship, only to see the ginger tail sticking out from behind the curtain on your crate. Listening closely, Carol heard the familiar purr rumble from Goose and smiled, suddenly getting an idea. 

  “Goose,” Carol called as she sat cross legged a few steps away from the crate. The flerken appeared from behind the curtain and trotted over to the Captain obediently, nuzzling into her hand as she continued to purr happily. The curtain twitched and you peered around the gap to see where Goose had gone and blinked at the sight of Carol’s gentleness with the ginger creature. You pulled the curtain back further to watch with interest and Goose strolled back over to you, clearly enjoying the extra attention she was getting. 

  “She likes you,” Carol commented with an easy smile. Pretty. “You can come out of there if you want to. I’ll leave the crate there so you can go back to it whenever you want to,” Carol explained. You glanced around the room just as Goose sprang from your lap and jumped up onto the nearest counter to patrol her territory. You watched curiously for a few moments before stretching your legs out of the cramped space. The blonde averted her eyes at your still bare form, knowing that at some point she was going to have to help you dress. 

  “The bathroom’s just down the hall,” she told you. Your eyes flickered between Carol and Goose as you crept out of the crate and peered in the direction that she had pointed. When both feet were on the warm floor of Carol’s ship, you assessed her closely for any sudden movements and upon finding nothing, you continued cautiously down the hall. Once you had disappeared from view, Carol inspected the crate and noticed that the clothes she had given you had been pushed together with the blanket to form a nest. The glass of water was empty though the sandwich remained. That meant it had been a long time since you had eaten anything and seeing as it was Goose’s dinner, the Captain decided to make something up for all three of you. 

  When you reamurged from the hallway, the smells that hit you from the kitchen were heavenly. You didn’t recognise them but all you knew was that you wanted to know what was at their source and when you saw Carol standing over the stove, you approached slowly. She noticed you and smiled, following your gaze to the pot. 

  “Do you like rice?” She asked. That, you knew. You nodded. “It’s like that but an adapted version I learnt from the Skrulls.” You nodded again, deciding that you liked the sound of the blonde’s voice. “While we let it cook…shall we get some clothes on you?” She enquired. You glanced down and then back at Carol with a hesitant nod. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything, but you followed a few steps behind Carol as she retrieved the clothes she laid out for you, knowing that if it was something she wanted then you should accept. 

  “Put your hands out,” she instructed gently. You did so and she bunched up one sleeve to slide up your arm and then did the same with the other before pulling the top over your head, chuckling softly at the sight of your dishevelled hair. You liked that sound too. And her sweatshirt. It was mostly white but had a few splashes of pink and blue swirls across it that you found yourself examining while Carol reached for the underwear. 

  “This foot up,” she coached with a tap to your left foot. You lifted it, then the other, until the underwear were pulled up your legs and fit comfortably around you. The sweatpants followed in the same way and you immediately felt considerably more comfortable in the clothes you had been gifted. They were a size bigger than what you needed, but you wondered if that made them better. 

  You gave her a small smile in recognition. “You can sit down while I plate up,” she told you, turning to go back to the kitchen but stopping when she saw you try to sit down on the floor. “Somewhere more comfortable,” she assured and pulled out a chair at the small table by the kitchen. You couldn’t recall ever having been let on furniture before, so it took you several embarrassing moments to get attempt to get on the chair, constantly wobbling until Carol muttered that you could stay on the floor, though not entirely happy with letting you do so.

  You sat patiently there as you watched Carol finishing preparing the meal and plate two full dishes. The food was mounted so high that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to finish the meal and feared what would happen if you couldn’t. You had never been given so much food in one sitting before.

  “Do you remember Earth?” Carol asked as she sat down at the table next to you. You didn’t recognise that name, so you shook your head and watched as Carol tapped her wrist band a few times until a hologram appeared between you. “That’s it,” she said, zooming in slightly on the sphere so that you could see it was a planet made up of majority water and that the land contained a vast variety of different conditions. It looked quite overwhelming and you certainly didn’t feel any compulsion to return if that was apparently where you came from. 

  “It’s not without its flaws,” Carol chuckled when she noticed your hesitance. “But it’s your home,” she said. You tilted your head in recognition and Carol took it as a positive sign. She focused on the hologram more. “Maybe here,” she suggested, bringing up a visual of New Asgard. It did look nicer than the rest of the planet, but Carol’s ship was growing on you unusually rapidly. 

  Of all the people you could recall ever meeting, none of them had been like Carol. They had been cruel and treated you as less than human, perhaps seeing you as such, and you hadn’t liked any of them. They kept you in cramped, cold places that you couldn’t escape from, making you unable to believe just how warm Carol’s ship was. And not just that, her as well. You had felt it when she dressed you, her hands radiated a gentle heat that you hadn’t ever experienced but were instantly fond of. Carol was the only person you had ever met who you had reason to trust, so you didn’t hope to part from her anytime soon. 

  You watched as Carol ate the meal she had prepared and glanced down at your own bowl and the spoon that sat in it. It smelled really good and it looked really good, you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait too long to eat it. “You can start,” Carol told you when she noticed you refraining. You blinked at her and the utensil she held in her hand that you couldn’t use. 

  Of course, the blonde thought as she realised why you hadn’t eaten the snack earlier either. You needed help. That explained how you had approached the water as well. Carol crouched down in front of you as you looked to her for guidance.. 

  “I’m gonna help you,” she told you gently, bringing the glass up to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently for the Captain to coax the water past your lips gradually. She watched closely to ensure you weren’t taking too much at once and pulled back accordingly to replace the glass with a spoonful of the hearty meal she had prepared. After several moments, she sat down with you and stretched her legs out comfortably.

  It was delicious, you thought as you savoured the dish while Carol did the same. You watched her closely for guidance as she ate and helped you, occasionally making comments about the various dishes she had learnt in her travels and how she had been able to share all of them with Goose given that his digestive system was practically impossible to disturb. Still, it was nice to share the dishes with another human, she told you openly with a small smile. You mirrored it, recognising that you were able to provide her of some kind of service. It felt good to please her. 

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked once you were both done with the meal. Carol didn’t often host guests in general, never mind ones of your characteristics and needs. She hadn’t had many visitors during her time on Hala or when she lived with Maria either. However, if there was anything the blonde was neglecting in her hosting duties, you weren’t about to notice. 

  You watched curiously as Carol set up a movie for you near her bed and though you didn’t recognise the images that began to play, you were transfixed by them. You heard the Captain say something about Goose stealing her speaker as she disappeared through the ship to retrieve it. You waited several moments before wandering across the space and sitting down on the floor in front of the screen to admire it closely. When Carol came back, you already appeared fully entertained by the film so she left the speaker on the side and silently began getting back to work, glancing over at you occasionally to ensure you were okay. 

  You remained comfortably like that for some time until your eyelids began to feel heavy and there was a distant haze starting behind your eyes. Still watching the film, you lay yourself down and curled up on the hard floor by the screen, you were tired but unable to sleep so you peered back at the Captain who was already watching you. “You know, there are more comfortable places than the floor to sleep,” she told you with a small smile. You blinked at her. “You’re as bad as Goose,” she muttered to herself. “But it is getting late,” she admitted as she strolled over to your area and you immediately sat to attention. “Easy,” she chuckled, grabbing her sleeping shorts and a tank top. 

  Carol had her back to you as she changed, apparently unbothered by your gaze, letting you note the way her back muscles and shoulders flexed as she stripped herself of her clothes and into fresh ones. It was different having your owner not acknowledge you when they were out of clothes. A lot of Carol was different to the others, you just didn’t realise it was because she didn’t consider herself your owner. 

  “Do you want to sleep there?” She asked as she pointed to the crate. You understood the gesture and made your way over to the crate without being able to communicate that you would rather sleep elsewhere. The box was too small, something that provided comfort when you were unsure of the new environment, but since discovering that it lacked any threats, you seeked out the space that was at your fingertips. 

  Unfortunately, Carol couldn’t have known any of this and simply watched with a bemused smile as you dragged the blanket half way out of the crate so that you could stretch your legs out past the curtain. As the blonde got herself comfortable in her own bed, she continued to glance your way every time the curtain shifted until you opted to turn around completely and settle with your head outside the crate where you could keep Carol in your view. 

  “Comfortable?” She threw you another blanket despite the ship being a suitable temperature and you didn’t hesitate to bundle it up to use it as a pillow, still looking at her through sleepy eyes. Once she bid you goodnight and turned over, you let the waves of exhaustion wash over. It was the first time in as long as you could remember that it felt safe to do so. 

*

Boredom was not something that had come to you in a long time. Usually, your empty moments were ruined with fear and anticipation for what was to come, but the safety and assurance you felt on Carol’s ship had gradually put your mind at ease enough to let those quiet moments be tempted by curiosity. Carol was a busy woman, always on the lookout for issues she would have to deal with. It left you unoccupied enough to let that initial hesitation be surpassed. You couldn’t live in fear forever. 

  You had been with the Captain for several days, the pair of you falling into a routine you were becoming accustomed to. She woke up first and prepared breakfast for you both, telling you all about the latest news from across the galaxy that you didn’t really understand. Whilst she would work, you would tentatively explore more and more of the ship you were temporarily living in, curious at the possessions Carol owned and the technology her ship possessed. The only reason you had the confidence to do so was the encouraging smile the blonde sent your way every time she saw you venturing further around her home. But it wasn’t a large home and there was only so much for you to entertain yourself with before you needed something different. 

  You perched yourself onto the floor next to the stool Goose was sitting on, still not keen on sitting on furniture. You held your hand out to the flerken who nuzzled into your knuckles affectionately, then glanced up at the Captain and wandered over to her side. 

  “We’ll be in Earth’s orbit in a few days,” she told you, bringing up an image of New Asgard again. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t want to leave, so you looked away. “I know it might be scary to move again, but they’ll take good care of you,” Carol said, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. The contact was unexpected, but you liked it. You met Carol’s unsure eyes and responded by resting your head against her leg, nuzzling into the soft fabric of her sweatpants slightly once you realised how gentle it felt on your skin. Carol was taken aback by the act, feeling a tenderness overcome her at the contact. She smiled to herself when you opted to stay put for a few moments longer. She didn’t have much contact with other humans herself and she didn’t realise how much she needed it until you offered it to her. 

  “You need a bath,” Carol broke the silence by saying. You pulled away and scrunched your nose up at her, making the blonde chuckle. “Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she insisted. 

  You watched as she walked off down the corridor and heard her start the taps in the bath. You remained stubbornly fixed to that stop on the floor until a faint smell of flowers travelled through the corridor. Following your nose, you wandered through to the bathroom where the sizable tub was soon filling with bubbles. It did look tempting. 

  “You wanna get in?” She asked with a knowing smile. You nodded. “Lets get those clothes off of you then,” she continued as she gently pulled the clothes off of your body and into a pile on the floor. You had been wearing the same clothes since she had given them to you because you hadn’t gotten them dirty and she was cautious of making you uncomfortable by stripping you too often. To her surprise, you didn’t react to her taking the clothes because your attention was fixed on the growing mountain in the tub. She chuckled and encouraged you in with a hand to the back. 

  Unfortunately for you, the tub was too high and you found the task of hiking your legs over steadily to be of some difficulty when you considered how you could slip on the other side. Fortunately, Carol’s strength was more than ample to lift you into the tub herself, something that made you smile fondly at her. You liked how strong she was, because you were learning that she wouldn’t use it against you, only as aid. 

  Once you were submerged in the bath, Carol brought over the flannel and soaked it in the water before ringing it out and bringing it up to your face. “Hold still,” she chuckled when you playfully darted away, stopping when you felt how warm and refreshing the cloth was against you. You allowed Carol to continue washing your body tenderly, humming softly to herself as she did so. She made the occasional comment about the different places she had acquired the unique soaps and you listened intently, wondering if she would ever show those places to you. 

  To her credit, Carol cleaned you thoroughly, using her soaps, cleansers and some shampoo once she began finding her own comfort in the task. The warm, soapy water felt just as good on her own skin as it did over you and there was a certain fulfilment in the way she was able to handle and aid you. She especially enjoyed massaging the shampoo into your hair and the small content noise it brought out in you. You both could have stayed there for much longer. 

  Once you were sitting on the bath mat next to the tub, Carol wrapped you up in a heated towel to stop you getting cold and did the same for your hair, effectively cocooning you snuggly. You didn’t like the hair dryer, she learnt, but not so much that you struggled too much against her when she began to use it. You sat obediently with a displeased look upon your face that was soon changed when you were dressed into a clean pair of Carol’s clothes. 

  “Did you enjoy that?” The Captain asked as she crouched in front of you. You smiled at her and nuzzled into her shoulder affectionately, making the blonde chuckle. “Me too,” she admitted. “We'll have to get another one in before you go.” Carol hadn’t expected to feel so disappointed as the words left her, but it was clear a part of her wanted you to stay. But by letting you stay, surely she was no better than the people who had taken you in the first place? 

  “Let's get some food,” she said to distract herself. You followed promptly behind her and stayed that way for the majority of the day as well as the ones that came after. Whenever Carol was working, you would sit or lay by her feet, content to feel her tower over you in a way that seemed to block the rest of the world out. When she cooked, you sat to the side and watched with eager eyes and a growling stomach. When she took some time to unwind and watch some tv, you listened out for her chuckles with soft anticipation. 

  With you becoming so used to seeking out a close proximity to the blonde, nighttime was hard. You didn’t like the crate anymore, even with all of the blankets and sweaters you had stuffed inside. It wasn’t enough and it was lonely, so one night you ventured out to her bed. 

  As you peered at Carol’s sleeping form, you frowned at the small lights that were attached to her temple. She didn’t look happy to have them on, despite being asleep. She was restless and a crease was permanently embedded between her brows. You didn’t like to see her like that and wondered if the device on her was hurting her, so you scrambled into her bed and patted the device. Carol awoke with a start, eyes locking on your as she panted heavily. She was scared. You had never seen her scared before. 

  You whined, high in your chest, and burrowed yourself into Carol’s chest, nuzzling your head against her wildly beating heart. The blonde froze at first, still recovering from her nightmares until your efforts appeared to smother her terrors because you pressed yourself so firmly against her. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up her body until your face was between her neck and shoulder and you took the cue to settle yourself there as you held her. 

  “Hey,” Carol whispered once her heart finally returned to its resting rate. She brought a hand up to your hair and began to absently comb her fingers through, wanting to feel you in your entirety. It soothed her to no end, she realised, and it was something she would soon have to give up. You would be in Earth’s orbit by the morning. She didn’t want you to go, so she held onto you tighter as her chest pulsed with the thought that you wouldn’t be there the next night. 

  Did that have to be the case? She wasn’t hurting you or manipulating you or exploiting you. She was caring for you, something that very few would be able to do as much as she could. Even if she took you to New Asgard, there would be no one on one connections like she had formed with you because they would all be too busy for that. 

  You had found solace with her, who was to say you would be able to find it elsewhere? With someone who could care for and protect you as well as she could? What if by sending you away, she was ridding you of the only home you would ever truly have?

  “Do you want to stay here with me?” Carol asked. You held her tighter and tenderly brushed your lips against her neck. “Me too,” she told you with a relieved smile.

  Her mind was made, your home was with her.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

behind the curtain

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

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

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

Word Count: 4.2k

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were going to see Ruby again.

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

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

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

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

“Who are you wearing?”

A fucking blue dress. “Valdrin Sahiti!”

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

Overwhelmed. “So excited!”

“What are you most looking forward to tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I missed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All hell broke loose. Interviewers screamed questions from across the room while paparazzi cameras flashed in your face. Those without cameras pulled out their phones and filmed the both of you, desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Anxiety overtook your body as you felt a lump rise to your throat and your heart sink to your feet. You turned to look at Ruby, eyes full of fear, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking straight at the flashing cameras, with an expression that made your blood run cold.

You had never seen her bright blue eyes filled with so much anger.

The pit in your stomach grew as you scrolled through the tabloid headlines and Twitter articles featuring your and Ruby’s “stunt” from the other night. This was bad. So bad, that both of your agents had gotten together to hire a public relations manager just for the situation.

Two days after the movie premiere, an emergency meeting was called. Five of you were called to the manager’s office, with both of your agents sitting on either side of him, and you and Ruby placed across from the three of them.

The manager, named Rick, held out his hand and you gave him his phone back, sick of scrolling through the headlines anyway. As far as you could tell, Rick didn’t seem like a bad guy, but it was clear Ruby didn’t feel the same. She hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meeting, instead keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointing a cold glare towards the man in front of her.

She didn’t trust him, and everyone in the room knew it.

Rick gave the both of you a sheepish grin. “As you both can probably see, you’re kind of the flavor of the week right now.”

Ruby’s agent nodded in agreement. “I have a friend in New York, and she heard a rumor about an SNL sketch being written about the whole thing.”

Your agent sighed, clearly having heard the rumor herself. Ruby simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” You piped up.

All eyes turned to look at you, making you shrink in your seat. “I mean, can’t we just wait for it to blow over? All we did was kiss at an after party.”

“It’s not like we were fucking, Rick.” Ruby growled through her teeth, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

Rick cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Ruby’s candidness. “Well it’s not really that simple…”

“No one knows what you are.” Your agent interrupted. “All the public knows is you were caught going at it like teenagers in a basement, and now the media is going to be on top of everything you do until they figure it out.”

Ruby’s agent nodded. “Before this, we wanted you both to appear single to the public. You’re both very attractive girls. People want you, and we want them to think they can have you.”

“But that’s not really an option now.” Rick pointed out. “Fortunately, both of you have pretty reputable status in Hollywood. People see two of their favorite actresses together, feedback is bound to be mostly positive.”

He opened up a notepad in front of him and started scribbling down something you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m thinking, we take this relationship and go completely public. Social media posts, dates open to the paparazzi, everything. That way, the media won’t have to do any guess work and this whole thing will blow over sooner.”

Suddenly, Ruby stood up from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Ruby!” Her agent called after her.

She turned to flash an apologetic smile towards all the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this. I’ll talk to her.”

She ran out of the room after Ruby, leaving Rick and your agent to go over the details of the plan. Their voices faded into the background as millions of thoughts swam through your mind. You had a bad feeling about this ‘public relationship’ idea.

How were you supposed to go public with your relationship, when you weren’t even sure if there was a relationship to go public with?

You adjusted your oversized hat and sunglasses while staring up at the cafe sign that read “Grind n’ Dine,” shuddering at the slightly suggestive name.

One week after the meeting with Rick, he worked with your agents to schedule a public date for you and Ruby, tipping off the press to make sure there was media coverage. Grind n’ Dine, a local business, had apparently paid Rick a large sum of money to schedule your date here in the hopes that the publicity would be good for business.

Taking a deep breath, you walked in through the restaurant doors and looked around. Several members of the press were already present, wearing cameras around their necks and sipping coffee at various tables. You breathed out a sigh of relief that they didn’t recognize you yet, thankful for your agent who suggested arriving in disguise.

In the very back of the restaurant, tucked into a booth, you spotted Ruby hiding behind a menu. She had her body and hair buried under a large black hoodie, and masked her face with sunglasses similar to yours. You made your way over to her, trying to act natural, and making sure to avoid press members as much as possible in case they recognize you before you’re ready.

You slid into the seat across from her and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence. She put down her menu and laid it flat, before tilting her sunglasses down to meet your eyes.

Her blue eyes, once lively and bright, were now bloodshot and emotionless. Dark circles hung like bags underneath them, as if she hadn’t slept in days. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Ruby had never looked at you this way before, and you wished more than anything that she would stop.

“Ready for this?” She asked, her voice monotone and lifeless.

You gulped, nodding defeatedly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ruby removed her sunglasses and pulled down her hood, shaking out her wild brunette locks. You followed suit, taking off your hat and slipping your sunglasses into your purse.

Almost immediately, members of the press recognized the both of you, and practically trampled the poor servers and other diners to get to your booth. Cameras were suddenly shoved in your face, followed by microphones and what felt like hundreds of pointless and rather invading questions.

“Is this a date? How would you define your relationship?”

“If you had to describe your sex life using only three words, what would they be?”

“Ruby! Do you think every liberal democrat should take home a migrant to show their support for the proposed open border policy?”

The two of you mumbled terse responses to some of the questions, and completely ignored others. After several minutes of verbal torture, a perky blonde waitress fought her way through the press and stopped at the end of your table. She sported a wide politician's smile not directed at the two of you, instead flashed to the surrounding cameras in search of fifteen minutes of fame.

“Hi guys,” she started, her voice unnaturally high pitched. “My name is Bethany, what can I get started for you today?”

“I’ll have a quinoa salad and cranberry juice, please.” You answered, handing Bethany your menu.

The press murmured imperceptible comments regarding your order, some even scribbling notes on napkins. “Quinoa… salad…”

“Just a coffee’s fine.” Ruby mumbled, order being followed by press comments as well.

As soon as Bethany walked away, the paparazzi shoved the cameras back in your face and bombarded you and Ruby with questions once more.

“Did you order cranberry juice because you like cranberry juice or because you have a UTI? How did you get this UTI?”

“I noticed you were the only one who ordered food. Could it be because you’re eating for two?”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you order food, Ruby? Are you battling some kind of eating disorder? Would you like to comment on it?”

“Enough!” Ruby exclaimed, perhaps louder than she should have.

Immediately, the press was silent, with only the sound of sporadic camera clicks being heard. Ruby turned to look at you, tears starting to well in her tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…” she whispered, getting up and running out of the restaurant.

“Ruby! Wait, please!” You stood up and ran after her, leaving the paparazzi in the dust behind you.

You found Ruby leaning against a building across the cafe. She had her head resting against the cool brick, and her face pointed to the sky while she blinked back tears threatening to fall.

A lump formed in your throat as you started to approach her. You couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked so… miserable.

“Ruby…” you muttered softly, reaching out your hand.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the concrete, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just wasn’t hungry! It’s barely ten in the fucking morning!”

You sighed. “Ruby, we both know that’s not what this is about. What’s going on?”

She sniffed, and focused her gaze on something behind you. “Can we… go somewhere else?”

Turning to see what Ruby was looking at, you noticed a teenage girl filming the two of you on her phone. You rolled your eyes, completely exasperated at this point.

“Let’s go.” You muttered, grabbing her hand to pull her away.

It didn’t take long to find a nearby alleyway, deserted except for an empty dumpster. You dragged Ruby into the back, letting go of her hand once the coast was clear.

“Talk.”

The pale brunette pushed her bangs out of her face, blinking a couple times while gathering her thoughts.

“I just… this is why my Instagram is private. This is why I’ve never explicitly labeled my sexuality. This is why I rarely talk about my personal life! I don’t want the media invading my space! I don’t want random strangers knowing intimate details about my life! It’s fucking freaky!”

You nodded, understanding her perspective, especially as you’d been recently dealing with the wrath of the paparazzi as well. She continued.

“I mean fuck! I can’t even order a damn coffee without some tabloid claiming I have a fucking eating disorder!”

Her breathing seemed to be evening out the more she spoke. She let out a shuddering breath and crossed her arms, staring at the gravel beneath her feet.

“I just… I just wanted to kiss you at an after-party. I missed you. And now everyone’s forcing us to be in this relationship and make it public but…”

“But no one asked us if we were even together,” you finished.

She nodded. “Exactly! We never even had a conversation just between us. Everyone just assumed.”

You pulled the brunette girl into your arms, wrapping them around her torso. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you stroked her soft locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known that’s how you felt…”

“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything, I… listen…”

She pulled away, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You waited for her to tell you that she didn’t want to see you again, that it was too hard, that it meant nothing.

You held your breath as she took your face in her hands, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“I like you.”

“You… huh?” Shock painted your features as Ruby said the last thing you were expecting to hear.

“I like you.” She repeated, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire eight months we didn’t talk. I should have reached out more, I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was scared? I don’t know…”

She was babbling, and you didn’t think she could get any cuter. You took her hands off your face and held them in yours, flashing her an encouraging smile.

“I like you too,” you replied giddily. “More than you know.”

Ruby chuckled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She stared down at the gravel again, chewing on her lip before speaking.

“I like you… I really do, but if we’re gonna start this… something, I’d want to take it slow and be completely private. No socials, no media, at least for now. Would… that be something you’re okay with?”

You squeezed her hands, flashing her a goofy grin. “I would… love that, actually.”

As you stared at your former celebrity crush, turned co-star, turned friend, turned… something, a wave of courage suddenly washed over you. Letting go of her hands, you seized her face and brought your lips to hers, tentatively, testing the waters. She gasped, but soon kissed back, sighing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned into your body.

You moved your hand towards the back of her neck, then slowly inched upwards until your fingers were entangled in her hair. An almost inaudible moan escaped her lips and vibrated against yours as you played with her soft tresses. You smirked into the kiss, remembering exactly how much she liked having her hair played with before getting caught at the after-party.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity, you pulled away from each other. The two of you gasped for breath, both smiling like giddy children at the other.

“So… what now?” You asked breathlessly.

Ruby hummed to herself, seemingly in thought. “We could… go on a real date? Just you and me? No paparazzi. There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I like to go to when I don’t want to get recognized.”

You tilted your head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “That sounds perfect, actually.”

Before leaving the alleyway, Ruby put her sunglasses back on and pulled her hood over her head again, while you dug your sunglasses out of your purse and readjusted your hat. The two of you were disguised, hidden from the world, but happy to be able to pursue each other away from public opinion.

Ruby reached out her hand, her blue eyes somehow still managing to shine behind her sunglasses. “Ready for this?”

You smiled back at her, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. “As I’ll ever be.”

[goldenempyrean]

Back To Bed With You

« Day 10: “Honey, you’re supposed to be in bed." »

« Pairing: Lizzie Olsen x Reader »

« Notes: lil' bit late oops, I had to wait till I finished work to make the post :P »

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Advent 2023 Masterlist! 〙

"Alright. Cut. Take 5 while we set up the next scene, I want makeup touch-ups done on everyone in the next shot please!" The voice of your director dismissed you from the current scene as people began rushing around to set up everything for the next.  

"Lizzie?" You tilted your head in surprise at the sight of your wife leaning up against some equipment behind the main camera. On any normal day you wouldn't have thought anything of it. But she'd woken up sick this morning with little to no voice left, and it'd taken you almost half an hour to convince her to go back to bed and take the day off. Yet here she was. Standing just off set... in her pyjamas. “Honey you’re supposed to be in bed. What are you doing here?”  

She only shivered in response and goosebumps ran up her exposed arms as she pulled them round herself. “Oh, come here sweetheart,” You shook your head, taking off the jumper you’d been wearing and pulled it over her pink pyjama shirt. It was slightly baggy but on her, but it was better than that thin fabric that seemed to be doing little to keep her warm, “That better?” 

She nodded before clearing her throat, "I missed you," Lizzie whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. "And I wanted to see your scenes. You always watch mine.” She sniffled before muffling a cough against the collar of her borrowed jumper, making you raise an eyebrow slightly knowing you had to wear that later. 

You cupped her flushed face in your hands, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "You're the sweetest really, you are, but I don't want you getting any sicker. Your voice sounds awful darling. So how about this? You stay right here, I'll finish up this next scene and then I’ll walk you back to our trailer and get you settled back down, okay? How does that sound?”  Lizzie gave a weak smile, appreciating the warmth of your jumper and the concern in your eyes. "Okay," she agreed in a raspy whisper, her hand finding yours as you began to lead her over towards where one of the runners had plugged a small portable heater into an extension cord. 

“You just concentrate on getting warm, okay?” You murmured, kissing her hand, “I’ve gotta sort out my makeup. The scene’s only short but if you really don’t feel well, just head back without me. I’ll catch you up.” 

With that you turned to quickly run over to makeup to get touched up before making it back down in front of the camera. The scene went well. Everyone had delivered their lines well and you’d only needed to do a couple to retakes to get the perfect shot. 

As the director called for a wrap on the scene, you wasted no time in heading back over to where you had left Lizzie. She looked a little more tired now but at least the heater had been doing its job and had kept her warm as she watched. 

“Alright, you, we had an agreement, didn’t we?” You smiled, knowing it was time for her to go back to bed. Your wife pouted but nodded in agreement and with a bit of effort, you helped her to her feet, wrapping your arm around her for support as you walked back to your trailer 

"You're a terrible patient," You teased once you’d gotten inside, still holding her hand as you led her back to bed, a bundle of blankets that she more than willingly climbed back into. 

Lizzie grinned weakly as you leant down to press a soft kiss to her warm cheek once she’d gotten settled, "But still the best wife, right?" 

"Absolutely.” You chucked as you pulled the blanket up to her chin, “Now rest, my love and I'll be back as soon as I can." 

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @danveration @idkeithershawty  @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart @loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @scarlettssub @paisley-yy @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Alice Roberts (Pandora's Box)—I dunno if she was a star per se but she did this groundbreaking lesbian role in a very groundbreaking 1920 movie and she won my heart while doing so. And his 1920's butch style is on pointtt

Lillian Gish (The Wind, Broken Blossoms)—Known as "The First Lady of American Cinema," Lillian Gish was an Academy Award nominated actress that actually began her career as a child actor onstage in theater plays. She was a prominent actress during the silent film era and her ethereal beauty made her one of the most popular actresses of the time/ She was a favorite leading lady of famous director D.W. Griffith, starring in several of his films, including the controversial Birth of a Nation. She was known to go to extremes in preparing for roles, such as sustaining permanent nerve damage in her fingers on one hand after filming a scene in Way Down East where she fainted on an ice floe and kept her hand partially submerged in the frigid water. Her screams during the famous closet scene of Broken Blossoms were supposedly so realistic and horrific that tale has it that bystanders outside the studio had to be stopped from rushing in to help. She is listed on AFI's list of the greatest female stars of classic American Cinema and was awarded several honors during her career.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

3/3/2024 EDIT: there has been a lot of discussion on this poll that I'm currently examining. Please read the propaganda carefully and weigh your options before voting.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lillian Gish propaganda:

"I love her just. So so much."

"Was in (arguably) the first movie ever and yeah it was a crap movie but still. Also watch her in Broken Blossoms, man can she ACT (and if an actress is good at her craft it does in fact make me more horny for her)"

"she's literally everything to me i'm not even kidding. quite LITERALLY called the First Lady of American Cinema, she was a damn pioneer of silent movies and acting. she wrote! she directed! she is exactly what i think a fairy would look like actually. she slayed in The Wind. i mean. look at Her"

[wildestdreamsblog]

The more you hate

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Summary: They say there is a thin line between love and hate. But they never told him crossing that line was dangerous. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Power imbalance, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: see, he was serving looks for days in Paris that I knew I had to do this 😭 this is an 8k one-shot. I hope you enjoy!

Jung Hoseok’s smile faltered when you entered the dressing room, much to Jimin’s amusement. He was in the middle of a sentence, literally in the middle and the moment you entered, Hobi faltered. This was not the first time. No- this had been happening ever since you became one of the group’s temporary staff. It had been three months now, and not a day went by that he did not flounder when you entered the room he was in.

One may think it was because the main dancer liked you.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

Hobi could not stand you. He could not even smile at you. He could not even mention your name without gagging. And yes, he was that dramatic.

Jimin watched his hyung as the said hyung followed your movement with daggers in his eyes. It entertained him to no end. He, together with the other members, could not pinpoint the reason why the seemingly always happy J-hope treated you that way. Regardless, he would take advantage of Hobi’s current state.

“So my take is okay now, right?” Jimin asked slyly, taking advantage of the fact that you were now here and that he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore on another take just because it was not up to his standard.

Hobi nodded absentmindedly, drinking from his water bottle as he kept on watching, well…more like glaring on your form.

“You don’t think I should move a little to the left, right?” Jimin clarified with mischief in his eyes. Hobi blinked before turning to him. He looked at the tablet he was holding where the dance record was transferred for him to review. He frowned before looking down at it again.

“Jimin, I think you should do-“

“Hey guys, back to studio in five minutes,” you passed on the order from the director, your smile pleasant and respectful as you looked at Jimin, and slowly shifted your gaze at the emotionless Hobi who didn’t even lift his eyes to look at you.

“Okay, Y/N. Thank you,” Jimin replied before telling you that they would be there. You nodded your head slowly, glancing at the stoic Hobi before lowering your gaze and going back to the studio. It was no secret to the other staff, and to the members as well, that treated you differently. He didn’t even attempt to conceal it, no. He made it obvious.

He would literally stop laughing when you entered the room.

He would stop talking to his members when he caught sight of you.

Hell, you thought that if could stop breathing just to not share the air you breathe, he would.

Which was ironic to you considering that you were here for him.

And which was a shame, really. You did love his smile.

“Hyung?” Jimin called him for the third time since you left.

“Yes, Jimin. Your take is perfect.”

The following week was the group’s video shooting for their music video. It had been a hectic week for everyone, including you. You were tired, yet seeing the art made by them come to life was everything. You felt like you were part of a masterpiece, despite you working from behind the scenes. Everything was going well, except for the current part of the MV.

If looks could kill, you’d be buried six feet underground now. Hobi was getting distracted with the way you were laughing with another staff. A male staff. How dare you laughed with another man, he thought. You should be serious. You were working. What was more important to you than your job, he thought. He was so occupied at throwing daggers with his eyes- daggers that you didn’t notice, that he missed his cue for the fifth time. The director yelled cut, gesturing for them to go back to their original position.

Taehyung sighed before whining, “Hyung, what is the problem?”

He didn’t say a thing for a moment that younger man thought he wouldn’t reply. Taehyung was about to go back to his original position when he finally said something.

“I need a coffee. An iced coffee,” Hobi suddenly declared, his eyes still trained at you.

“Do you want my coffee, hyung? I barely took a sip from it!” Jungkook quipped up, on his way to grab his iced coffee when Hobi shook his head.

“No, I want a fresh iced coffee,” he replied in a fake sadness that Namjoon definitely didn’t buy. Suga rolled his eyes. The two of them saw Hobi’s eyes trained on you. They knew what he was doing. They weren’t born yesterday. “In fact, Y/N, why don’t you buy me coffee?” He called out to you, deliberately increasing his voice to get yours and the whole staff’s attention.

You blinked owlishly once you realized that he called for you for the first time in months. You felt everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for you to move. Hoseok sauntered to you, his smile seemed permanent on his face yet his eyes looked cold as he glanced at the man you were talking.

“You know that coffee shop where we bought our coffee last week?” He asked quietly, his tone pleasant. You couldn’t help but nod- so unaccustomed to his proximity. “Can you please buy me an iced vanilla latte?”

You cleared your throat, “S-sure,” you said before turning to look behind him, specifically to the six other members who were looking at the two of you with varying reactions: Jimin seemed like he was generally having a good time, V looked like he was still confused, JK was pouting that his hyung didn’t like his coffee, while RM looked like he was done with everything, Jin was whispering at Suga, and lastly, Suga especially looked sleepy. “Does anyone else want coffee?”

Suga immediately raised his hand, and at the same time, J-hope who never took his eyes off of you lost his smile. “Nobody else wants coffee, right? She’s just going to buy for me,” he announced, turning to look at them with smile on his face, pointedly ignoring Suga’s raised hand.

“Go along now. I’m craving for something sweet,” he murmured with a smirk before turning to walk back to his position.

“But it’s a one-hour drive,” you realized to yourself, already calculating that it would take you more than two hours to travel back and forth, and waiting for the order. You just prayed that there weren’t a lot of people at this hour.

“I guess you have to run along now, Y/N,” Hobi said cheerily, raising his fist as if to gesture ‘fighting’ to you.

You were running as fast as you could without spilling the coffee you were holding. It was more than two hours, and you were stressing. Your co-worker a few minutes ago messaged you that they were almost done with the shoot. You feared that you were already too late. To your defense, he did send you to buy him a coffee knowing full well that it was a full hour away without the traffic. Your temper was shooting up. You were not the most patient person in the world to begin with. He was not like said this in the beginning. In fact, he was normal with you. He smiled, he laughed, he said thank you every time you did something for him- and then one day he just stopped. You thought you had offended him somehow. It was a good thing that you were only a temporary here. In all honesty, all you just wanted was to repay him for the kindness he showed you when you were at your lowest, when you thought that life and everything good in it left you.

So what happened to him?

Where did it all go wrong?

You entered the studio, seeing only few of the staff remained to pack up. The rest were security patrolling the building before calling it a day. They told you that the members left, but that J-hope might still be in the building. With a sigh that you prayed could provide you the patience you didn’t possess, you went up to his room. But when you arrived, he wasn’t there, and only his assistant was left. And that was how you knew your prayers weren’t answered. You offered her a tired smile before turning around.

“Oh, you’re here! He’s been waiting for you,” his assistant said in relief, instructing you to go to the parking lot.

Which you complied.

You hated how he had you running like a dog. You were starting to think if he was really that man who showed you kindness when you needed it the most a few years ago. Did you play that scene too many times that you started to place more meaning to it? Did you hold on to that memory for far too long that you had started to romanticize that moment?

Still, nevertheless, he did save you that day.

You only wished to pay his kindness back.

Finally, you saw him leaning against his car, his attention focused on his fancy cellphone. He looked serious, his brows pinched together. J-hope was now barefaced, and he was now only wearing a white button down shirt and pants which somehow made him more attractive and manly. Regardless, your patience was running thin and no amount of his attractiveness could alleviate what you were feeling.

You meant, who would order an iced coffee knowing full well that by the time it arrived, all the ice would have long melted by then?! He knew it was a two-hour travel, and yet he still insisted. Your steps were quick, and quite frankly sounding provoked that he looked up before you could even call his attention. You handed him the iced coffee carelessly, the content slushing around and not even the lid could saved him from the escaped droplets. He looked down at his drenched hand, not knowing why it didn’t irritate him. He shook his head with amusement in his eyes before turning his attention to you.

“How’s the travel? I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” he lamented in a fake sympathy. He didn’t know why he enjoyed tormenting you, why he wanted all your attention on him. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why, and he was too naive to realize it himself.

You knew he was testing you, waiting for you to take the bait. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, no. You smiled at him, about to answer him when he lifted his hand that was now dripping from a little coffee and licked it, savoring in the rich taste of the coffee. All while looking at you.

It was too…sexy(?!) for you that you choke on nothing. You felt your cheeks heated up from that that you forgot what you were going to say for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“W-what?”

“Would you drive me home?”

See, why did you say yes? You were just too weak when he was paying attention to you, or when he said please. Or when he looked at you with his soulful eyes that you thought held a little too much emotions, both sadness and euphoria.

Why then did he only let people see his happiness, but never his desolation? Never his regret? Never his weariness?

You watched him warily as you maneuvered out of the basement parking lot. He was sitting beside you, leaning his head on the head rest. He had his eyes shut closed that you could observed him freely. He looked tired, evidenced by his slumbering form.

You thought that it must have been so exhausting to project a happy, lively image every single day.

And so, you told yourself you’d give him the time to sleep by driving as peacefully as you could- which was not easy because you weren’t a good driver in the first place. You thought that it was a miracle you were able to pass your driving test when the examiner looked like he was holding on for dear life. But you knew the road signages, knew the laws, knew the do’s and dont’s, and so by miracle, you were able to pass your exam.

Driving on the main road was no easy feat. You were intimidated by the fast cars, and because of that, you were driving even slower than usual that the less than one-hour drive to his house turned to an almost two-hour drive. The man sleeping beside you was not even aware of what was happening, lost in his own dreams. The movement of the car moved his head to the side, facing you. He was even more angelic when he wasn’t busy glaring at you. He was even more ethereal when he wasn’t giving you meaningless tasks. In the silence of the car, absent of the noise that his world brought, he shone more.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were with him now, that you were breathing the same air he was breathing, that you could see him the whole day when he was just a mere memory of your darkest day- the day you buried your parents.

You were numb, so numb that you could barely feel your tears falling freely from your eyes. Your black, funeral dress was in contrast with the gentle picture that the sunset was quietly painting. You were staring at the ocean, the forgiving way the waves kissed the sand didn’t bring you peace. You thought that nothing could bring you peace anymore, that from this day forward, all you would feel was the cold loneliness from losing the only family you had. You thought that you would ran out of tears now that a week passed since you lost your adoptive parents from a horrendous accident. But the tears never stopped. And your heart never ceased to break.

You didn’t know how long you sat on the sand, you didn’t know how many tears fell, or how you were the picture perfect of melancholy. But Jung Hoseok knew, that day he knew.

Your hair had long fell from its confines, now freely flowing with the wind when you turned to look behind you. There, you saw him. He was sitting on the sand just like you. He was resting his arms on his knees. The young man was looking at the sea. He looked so serene, yet his eyes were troubled.

“I thought you’d never stop crying,” he voiced out. He had been sitting there almost as long as you. He came to clear his thoughts, only to find a young woman crying on her own. It was a difficult time for him. He thought that his career was not going anywhere, that he was wasting his time, that no matter how hard he worked, their group wouldn’t make it. He felt like his dream was a like a punch to the moon- impossible. He was torn between giving up and trying, yet this time as a soloist. To add salt to the wound, he watched as everyone received fan letters but him. Jung Hoseok had problems of his own.

So why then did he choose to stay?

He didn’t know why, but he never had the heart to leave you alone. Something was telling him that he was supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t leave you alone.

That you needed him.

You sniffed at the young man with a kind face behind you. He thought you were the most beautiful person in the world, regardless of the endless pit of sadness you were drowning in. He didn’t smile at you. You didn’t need a smile right now. He wordlessly stood up, walked near you, and placed in your hand a white handkerchief. “Cry more if you want. I’ll wait until you’re done,” he stated. And you did. You cried so hard, you cried so much until no tears fell anymore. All the while, he stood there with his hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on the crashing waves. He was humming a song you weren’t familiar with, but you found it soothing. You found him calming.

“You must think I’m a lunatic,” you whispered, his handkerchief drenched with your tears.

He shook his head, “It’s not crazy to cry. It’s how you express the love that has nowhere else to go,” he said tonelessly, as if it was just the truth of life. And it was. “What’s crazy is that people stop themselves from feeling when we aren’t made to not feel. If you’re sad, then cry. If you’re happy, then laugh. It’s not crazy to cry. It’s human to cry.”

He finally looked down at you. He didn’t know why he cared so much when he had burdens of his own. But he wanted you to know, “You’re not alone. I don’t think you were put in this world to be alone.”

No one, not even your closest family friends knew what to say to the pitiful young orphan that was you. Their words seemed empty to you. Their hugs seemed meaningless to you. But this young man that you didn’t even know stood by you as you cried. This man was able to comfort you more than anyone could. This man told you that you weren’t alone. And you held on to that. That day was your saving grace.

It was almost a year ago, yet you didn’t forget him. You couldn’t. His handkerchief was still with you, a remembrance of the day you felt like the world turned its back on you. You were walking to your university, enjoying the calm breeze of the morning when you heard a song from the store you were passing.

That same melody.

That same unfamiliar song he was humming.

Without any thought, you entered the store and saw that the owner was watching a performance by an unknown group. And there he was.

That day, you learned his name.

That same day, you wrote his first fan letter.

J-hope opened his eyes. For the first time in months, he felt rested. It was dark outside, he noted. He was still in the car. He turned to look at you, and there you were smiling so gently at him.

“Slept well, sleepy head?”

The car was parked in front of his house for almost an hour. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up, and so you stayed with him. He deserved the rest after all the hard work he was putting to their craft. Without any makeup on, he looked just like the young man you met on that day. He looked younger without the stress that was piling up on him.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked, his voice still laced with sleep. “And why didn’t you park the car inside the house?”

“Well, I can definitely park your car. But I can’t assure you that I won’t scratch your car,” you confessed. You sucked at parking, as pitiful as that sounded. He blinked at you before laughing- a real one this time. He always laughed but it wasn’t always out of happiness that you hated hearing his fake laughters, loathed seeing his fake smiles.

“Cute,” he whispered. He wasn’t able to stop himself.

“What?”

“I said you looked like a shoe,” he scoffed before getting out of his car. He rounded the car, and opened the door for you.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” You pointed out, looking at him indignantly. You looked like a shoe? What did that even mean?!

J-hope smirked, before leaning down and pressing the seatbelt to release you. His face was so near you that you could clearly see his eyes. You loved the color of his eyes, the quintessential blend of brown. You loved his face. You loved how you thought he had the perfect bone structure, how straight he nose was, the perfect size for his face. You loved how he was the perfect embodiment of everything good in this world.

Wait, what? Loved? You meant, you liked his eyes and his face!

He was so near that you could feel his heat. He was not satisfied that he even leaned closer, his arm resting beside your hips while the other was propped beside your head. He was so near that you could smell his manly scent. He looked at your eyes, before whispering, “Get out.”

See, he didn’t even thank you that day.

The end of all the shootings was marked by a celebration party. All the staff, together with the members, were having fun dancing, eating, and drinking in a hotel solely rented by the company. You were exhausted beyond measure, and not just because of work. Specifically, it was because of J-hope that had you running all around the town as if you were his own personal assistant. Not only that but his mood swings drained you. Who knew this person was so moody, you thought.

“You’re a fashion design graduate?” Your male co-staff asked you in disbelief. You chuckled before you took a sip of your drink. “Then why are you working as a staff here?”

You explained to him that you were waiting for the result of your application to work for a brand you believed and supported abroad. You did interviews virtually and now you were eagerly waiting for the response. You couldn’t wait to finally live your dream, the one you had the strength to reach because you promised yourself that day to never give up.

You turned to look beside you and you almost jumped when you saw Yoongi silently drinking his choice of alcohol. How could he move so silently? And how long had he been sitting there?

“Do you want anything else, Yoongi? I’ll get it for you,” you offered politely to one of the members, smiling at him when he shifted his eyes to you.

“So you’re leaving?” He asked instead of answering your inquiries. It was out of nowhere that it took you a moment to realize he heard your plans.

“Oh, u-uhm. Yes, that’s my life plan”

“Hmm,” he thought of the headache that was about to come, seeing as from across the room, Hoseok was already throwing daggers at him with his eyes. “What did Hoseok say about that?”

You blinked owlishly in confusion, wondering why he brought up what he thought of your decision. “I didn’t tell him. But the company knows I’m only temporary here,” you trailed off your explanation, seeing the stoic Suga looked stressed. “No worries, though! I’ll make sure to finish all my commitments before I leave,” you hurriedly assured him, mistaking his silence for his apprehension on work. After all, he was known for being a workaholic.

Suga was certain it was not smart to hide this from Hoseok.

Another hour passed and you weren’t able to keep track of your alcohol intake. Everyone was loose, and the staff you grew closed to kept on drinking more and more. It was bad, you drank more than you should evidenced by your slurred words and your barely focused eyes.

“Noona, you’re drunk,” he noted as Jungkook kneeled in front of you, checking your current state with his worried, doe eyes. In your eyes, there were two Jungkook- two muscular Jungkook that looked at you with concern. “Come on. I’ll help you,” he said worriedly, placing your arm around his neck as he guided you to stand up. He, with Namjoon, had been helping the drunk staff get to their rooms, seeing as they were one of the few sober people here. He was about to lift you up when Hoseok who had been going back and forth about helping you showed up. He told himself he didn’t care, that you were merely a nuisance to him and that your presence disturbed his composure. On the other hand, something about another man touching you just didn’t seem right to him.

He guessed the possessive side of him won that night.

“Jungkookie,” he called the youngest member, clapping his muscular shoulder once. “I’ll take care of her. You go help Namjoon.”

Jungkook faltered once, looking at his hyung with hesitancy in his eyes. Didn’t he hate you? Wasn’t it just last week that Hobi saw you laughing at V’s joke? And that he said that if you had time to joke around and laugh with other people, then you’d have time to take his car for maintenance. That took you two hours. Plus the drive back to the company. Plus he made you drive him to his home.

And then he made you cook him dinner.

“Are you sure, hyung?” It didn’t escape Hobi’s eyes that the maknae still did not let you go. “I can bring her up real quick and then help Namjoon hyung-“

“Jungkook. Go help Namjoon,” Suga ordered quietly, his stance relaxed that he didn’t have any choice but to place you gently back on the sofa. See, how could he slither up to anywhere without making a sound? He was like a cat, Jungkook swore in amazement.

“You know what you’re doing, right, Hoseok?” Suga clarified with Hobi, his voice bored as if he didn’t care either way. But he did. The whole members were at lost with how Hobi was treating you. It was unlike him. He was always the first to smile at anyone, always the first to offer a helping hand, the first to make anyone feel welcome.

So what made you an outlier?

“Because if you don’t, I suggest you start thinking of the reason why you’re like this. And stop playing with her.”

J-hope carried you in his arms, your dizzy head leaning on his chest. This close and you could inhale his musky, manly scent. He did smell good despite the smell of alcohol lingering on his shirt. His body was warm- the kind that was pleasant and felt like home.

Carefully, he laid you on the bed, supporting your head until it hit the pillow. With softness you didn’t know he possessed for you, he placed a blanket on your body after he made sure you drank enough water.

He knew he should leave, he knew he did the decent thing. Why then did he not want to leave you when you were this vulnerable? Why then did he want to stay?

Why then did he falter when all he wanted to do was brush the hair off of your face?

And why was he fighting against himself?

His hand hovered just above your skin, gently tracing the outline of your cheeks, of your nose, of the way your lips protruded.

The way your eyelashes softly fluttered against your cheeks was endearing. The way your brows furrowed in your sleep unknowingly made him smile. You were so ethereal in his eyes, that he made up his mind. With extreme gentleness, he brushed you hair off of your face. This close and he could see the marks on your skin, proving further how you were made so uniquely, how marvelously you were created. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, no longer wondering how soft your skin was because this time, he knew. Perhaps, he was not in control as he initially thought because he found himself touching your lips with his thumb. And at that time, he could have swore he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to feel your lips against his, to know what you tasted.

He looked so lost, his eyes trained on your lips that he didn’t notice you looking at him. And when he met your eyes, you didn’t say anything. You merely waited, waited so sweetly, anticipating what his decision would be. Yet, for the life of you, you wished you wouldn’t be alone.

J-hope would have stepped back if not for your hand holding on to his. “I don’t want to be alone,” you confessed, seeing the same loneliness that haunted you each night in his eyes. “Can’t you stay?” You whispered.

You didn’t have to ask twice.

He was only meant to stay until you fell back asleep. He only meant to sit beside you, not lie down on the bed facing your slumbering form. He only meant to be here temporarily. He only meant to keep his distance- so why then did you have your hand buried in his chest? Why then did he hold it close to him? Because now, no one could tear him away from you. Now, he was looking at you with as if the truth itself was glaring at him, willing him to finally see what he was desperately misunderstanding.

He sighed with the realization that his hatred for you was a misunderstood emotion, something that he didn’t know he could experienced in this life. The line between love and hate was definitely thin. He didn’t know when he crossed it, he just knew he couldn’t go back.

“Why are you still so good to me?” He asked despite knowing you wouldn’t answer. How could you take all the shit he had been throwing at you? How could you continuously asked him everyday if he was okay, if he needed anything? How could you still smile at him when he had been anything but good to you?

He thought you wouldn’t answer, but you did.

And in your haze, you whispered, “Because you saved me.”

The six members were all gathered in their communal room. They were all looking at each other, waiting for anyone to start. It was apparent to them that J-hope didn’t come home last night. In fact, Jungkook happened to pass by the hallway at six in the morning, looking for food because he was starving when the door to your hotel room opened. And there he came face to face with the disheveled, clothes-wrinkled, Hoseok.

“Do you think…he killed her?” He voiced out his concern, eyes wide as he looked at his hyungs.

Jimin chuckled at the youngest member’s innocence. He was the first one to notice how different his hyung was when it came to you. He was just glad that finally after tirelessly looking at the two of you interacted, his hyung finally made a move.

“He likes her,” RM finally spoke up, his eyes trained on the book he was reading.

“Really?” Taehyung asked in disbelief. How could he not see it?

“Tae, you’re so dense,” Jin bellowed, throwing V the pillow he was holding. “Don’t you have eyes?”

“Shit, he’s here!” Jimin alerted them when he saw his hyung opening the door. “Quick act natural!”

The freshly showered main dancer entered the room. He looked like he had rested well. Everyone avoided eye contact with him. It was apparent to him that Jungkook blabbered what he saw this morning. With a sigh, he looked at the culprit who had his head buried on a book.

“Jungkook, how’s that book?”

“It’s very educational, hyung!”

“Interesting,” he said in a deadpanned voice before walking to him, grabbing the book, and flipping it upside down. “Very interesting. I didn’t know you could read that way.”

He turned to look at Suga who had his eyes closed, his head bent in an unnatural manner that he was certain it was not comfortable.

“Suga hyung, stop pretending to sleep. There is no way anyone can sleep in that position.”

Yoongi cleared his throat before sitting up straight as if he wasn’t called on his lie. “How was your night?”

“It was…good,” he replied with a genuine smile on his face that Suga couldn’t help but mirror it on his own. Hoseok deserved to be happy, that was what they all thought.

He hadn’t slept that well in a long time, but he noticed that whenever he was with you he felt like he could rest. Like he could close his eyes and it would be okay because you were there. Like he could shed the happy persona he was wearing and just be himself. Like he could feel emotions other than happiness he was showing to the world.

The problem now was that he spent all his time antagonizing you that he was sure you wouldn’t give him the time of the day. To which, Taehyung articulated that maybe, he should try being kind to you.

So yes, he did try doing that. But now, you looked at him suspiciously. Just the other day, he passed you a bottle of water because he thought you looked a little parched. You passed it back to him with the lid opened, much to his shocked. Did you think he was asking you to open it for him?!

The next time, he opened the bottle himself and passed it to you, this time you thought he wanted a colder one so you went to fetch him that. His jaw literally dropped when you passed him the bottle. He even bought you flowers, certain that you would loved it. In fact, you loved it so much you put it in a vase only for J-hope to find it displayed in his office. Jin laughed himself to the floor when he saw it.

You were preoccupied with the instruction being disseminated, your eyes focused on the schedule given that you didn’t notice your shoelace was untied. Without much thought, Jung Hoseok leaned down on his knee, his mind focused on the task. You almost didn’t notice that the noise suddenly stopped, and that all eyes were on you. Slowly, you looked down to find his head bent down as he tied your shoelace. His brows were furrowed, engrossed in his task. He looked up suddenly, meeting your eyes. You felt your cheeks heating up from his gesture. He smirked and he thought that you would finally get it.

You didn’t. To which RM advised that he made it obvious this time, to make you actually noticed him, to leave you no choice but to notice him.

The following week was the group’s schedule to film somewhere remote for their segment. It was a three-day trip. You looked around the basement parking, wondering where your co-staff were. Weren’t you all supposed to drive there together? You were about to call them on your phone when you saw J-hope leaning against his car, his eyes trained on you.

“About time you show up. Let’s go,” he sighed. You guessed you were going to have to drive him again. And here you thought that you’d get to catch up on your sleep. You opened the door when Hoseok slammed it shut again, his manly hand beside your head as it rested on the door. Here he was again, standing so near you that you had no choice but to step back. But this time, you couldn’t. You were between him and the car.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m…going to drive?” You answered unsurely, breath hitching as he leaned in even further. If you thought he was handsome when he was smiling, the serious Hoseok did things to your heart.

“I’m driving. That’s why I waited for you.”

“Yeah, but why? Don’t I always drive you?”

Why was it hard flirting with you, he thought.

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove with one hand, the other resting on the stick gear. He had coffee prepared for you in his car, even a bottle of water for the travel. He was being so uncharacteristically kind and considerate to you that you were becoming suspicious now.

“Your hair looks so beautiful,” he complimented all of a sudden that you almost sputtered out the water you had been drinking. What did he mean? You didn’t even wash your hair today. Was he insulting you? Was he complimenting you? At this point, did anyone know what was going on?

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. You seem different now. If I did something wrong, I’m sorry.”

He looked at you with confusion in his face, holding your eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. “Just because I said your hair is beautiful?”

When you only blinked at him, lost for words when he looked puzzled himself before a shadow of understanding passed through his expressive face. “You don’t remember that night, do you?”

“What night?”

And there it was. He thought that he already made progress with you. And it turned out that you remember none of it.

The members watched as you and J-hope arrived with anticipation in their faces, only for Hoseok to shake his head. He spent the whole three days literally glued to your side. He brought you food, he opened water bottles for you, he sat beside you wherever you were, even going as far as glaring at any man who had the audacity to sit beside you. Most of all, he made you laughed. He listened to whatever you had to say with laser focus, as if you were the most interesting person in the world. And one night, when you all had too much to drink, he sat beside you and held your hand in his in the darkness of the night.

You could admit that as much as you didn’t want to, being this close to him was affecting you. Which was bad. Because you knew you couldn’t and shouldn’t fall for him, that you shouldn’t get attached because this would end badly for you. You were leaving. And you were just here to make his life a little bit easier as a repayment to what he unknowingly did for you. And so, you started steering clear of his path for his sake, but also for the sake of your heart. Whenever you saw him, you’d suddenly have an errand to do. Whenever he was about to go to you, you’d suddenly join a group of people so he wouldn’t come. You even went as far as jumping at the last car, which happened to be Suga’s, just so you wouldn’t be with Hoseok. Suga looked at you weirdly before looking at the window, and then sighing. You were only glad that he drove without a word.

“Don’t you like him?” He asked in a bored tone after driving for half an hour. “And don’t lie to me.”

You blushed as you looked anywhere but him. Truth, you found out, was harder to deny once it was verbalized, once it was said. You could hardly deny the truth when you kept it in yourself, what would happen to you then if you say it?

“Can I trust you?” You asked in a small voice. You weren’t close to him, but you knew he was quiet, that he was like a Cheshire cat, merely sitting there quietly and observing, always observing. From the few interactions you had with him, you knew he only had his members’ best interest in heart. He was asking not because he was curious, no. He was asking because he cared for Hoseok.

“You can,” he replied in that deep voice of his. “Or you can’t. It’s up to you.”

You smiled at his answer, this was really who Suga was. And so, you decided to tell the truth.

“I do… but this is not going anywhere. What I feel for him is irrelevant,” you began, your lips twitching as you played with your fingers nervously. “He is a good man.”

Yoongi nodded as he silently drove, lost in his own thoughts. His mind must have been interesting, it must have been too complexed that you wondered how he would act when he fell. You didn’t know if you admire or pity the woman who would have the bravery to fall for him.

“That’s not for you to decide, Y/N. At least tell him.”

You wouldn’t.

You walked quietly after you made sure that he was not around. It had been a week of successfully avoiding Hoseok and you could see that he was becoming displeased with your actions. It was apparent to him that you were avoiding him, much to his vexation. But this ended now.

You were on your way to a meeting, in your hand was your planner. This was your last month, your contract was almost through. Your thoughts were immersed with things you needed to do that you didn’t notice that it was peculiar you were the first one in the small conference room. You waited for the other attendees of the meeting, lost in your own world as you wrote on your planner. The door opened and closed, and you lifted your head with a smile on your face ready to greet whoever that was when you saw him. He entered the room with a blank face, never turning his back on you as he pressed the lock. He walked around the table and sat on it, perching his lap on the edge as he faced you. His eyes looked tired. It took him a moment before he broke the silence.

“You’re avoiding me,” he stated as though he didn’t need your answer.

“I’m not-“ you started denying when he tilted his head to the side, his expression even going more serious. You recognized this face, the expression he used when he was coaching on the dance routines. You looked at your lap, anywhere just to avoid his intense gaze. Yet, you could not escape him. You were too hyperaware of his presence, of his larger than life presence that made you want to say yes to whatever he wanted. His thigh was almost touching your hand that was on the table.

“Why are you avoiding me, angel?” He asked gently, terrified that you’d up and leave like the last few days. You couldn’t even deny when he already saw right through your bullshit. You were afraid to look into his eyes because then he would see, he would know what you felt. When you still didn’t lift your eyes to him, he held your hand, bringing it to his lap. To be honest, he was scared. He hated the feeling of not seeing you, of not talking to you, of not having you near him. “Tell me, hmm? Tell me and I’ll fix whatever it is.”

Your lips quivered. It had been too log since anyone told you they’d fix it for you, that they’d take care of it for you. You had been alone for far too long that hearing that hurt you. What you felt for him terrified you. For so long you looked at him as though he was your savior, and now you were looking at him like he could be something more when you knew you were setting yourself for another heartache- one that you wouldn’t survive. Hoseok lifted your hand to his lips, softly kissing your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me.”

“I-I think,” you began before trailing off. You chewed on your bottom lip, your eyes trained on his chest. You still couldn’t look at him, still could not f the life of you look at him as you told him the truth.

“You think what, angel?” He repeated gently, urging you to continue.

“I think…I’m falling in love with you,” you finally said as you shut your eyes closed, waiting for his disgust.

Yet it never came.

He was silent, so silent that it terrified you. You were pulling your hand away from his when he tightened his hold on you. It left you no choice but to look up at him…only to find him with a genuine smile on his face.

“Good,” he whispered, his face losing the tense look it had moments ago. Now, J-hope was happy, utterly happy. And it showed. “Because I already fell.”

He tilted your chin further, and slowly, so slowly he leaned in. His jaw was set hard with concentration, his eyes trained on you. And then you felt his lips on yours. It was soft, a kind of kiss reserved for first kisses, the one where one wanted to savor the moment. He kissed you once, twice- and then he leaned back, opened his eyes and looked at you as if asking you if that was okay. And when you nodded, J-hope decided he wanted more. The kiss began to get more heated. Suddenly, he lifted you from your seat and placed you on top of the table. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, so close that you could feel the growing hardness of his member. You have been kissed before, but certainly not like this. Certainly not by someone as grand as him. Certainly not the kind of kiss where time felt like it stood still. You could feel his tongue inside you, keen on discovering every inch of you. It was too much, it was too many emotions that you didn’t know how to handle them. You felt his other hand possessively around the back of your neck. You thought it was forever before he stopped kissing you. He leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard as he leveled you with his intense gaze.

“You’re mine now, right, angel?” He asked as he looked at you with his lust-filled eyes.

Were you his?

Could you be his?

It was as if you were awaken, as if the haze that surrounded you was now gone and in its place was the hard truth that you weren’t supposed to be with him because you were leaving.

You shook your head, your hands pushing on his chest. “No. I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears brimming on your eyes “We can’t.”

In his weakened state and shocked, you were able to push him away. You ran to the door without looking back, and left him.

What happened, he thought in confusion. He was about to follow you when he noticed that you left your planner in your haste to escape. He was about to pick up the open planner when something piqued his curiosity.

Your handwriting seemed familiar to him. He tilted his head to the side, trying to remember why this seemed like a piece of a puzzle to him. He racked his brain, trying to remember something… And then he got it. He remembered this handwriting, the same handwriting that he had framed in his office- his first fan letter. He looked at it for hours back when he wanted to give up, and until now he looked at it with gratitude that someone believed in him when he wanted to give up.

It was you. He finally found you.

If this wasn’t fate, then he didn’t know what it was.

It almost buried the hurt he was feeling when you pushed him away. Almost. He was almost okay. But then he saw you marked the date of your last day in the company- and on the next page was the list of things you needed to accomplish because you leave the country. You were leaving the country. You were fucking leaving him.

You couldn’t leave, no. Not when he finally found you. Not when he only felt this way with you. Not when this was fate itself. Not when he was irrevocable so in love with you, not when he couldn’t even begin to imagine breathing without you. No. You cannot leave him. His mind was going overdrive, his heart beating too loud with the thought of losing you.

He needed to do something.

He needed to do it now,

With renewed strength, he marched out the door. His footsteps was hard and fast, looking for any trace of you that he almost ran straight to Namjoon. The leader took a look of his hyung’s state before carefully asking if he got everything under control. To which he replied that he’d only be stable and okay once he was sure that you were never going to leave him.

“Remember to do everything smartly, hyung,” RM advised him as a leader should. But as a friend, he told him where he last saw you. And as someone who also had to do underhanded methods just to get the girl, he stated, “Do what you must do, hyung. Lock her down to you, if you must.”

You almost jumped up when you heard hard, consecutive knocks on your door. It was alraedy closed to midnight, and you were weary. Your eyes were red from crying, something that you had not done in a long time. You were on the floor, surrounded by things you were packing since last week. You thought it was just your neighbor asking for something, and so you thought she would go away. You didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone today.

Yet, the knocks only became more frequent that left you no choice but to open the door- and there he was. Standing tall in front of you was the one you ran away from.

Jung Hoseok had his hands in his pockets, his stance relaxed that you couldn’t read him.

“Can we talk?”

And as an answer, you stepped back and let him passed you inside your apartment. You had barely locked the door when you found yourself against the wall, and his lips hovered above yours for a moment, a moment for you to push him away. And when you didn’t, he pressed against your lips so tenderly and yet so demanding. All thoughts about why this was not a good idea vanished. All of a sudden, all that mattered was this feeling. All that mattered was Jung Hoseok.

His tongue caressed yours, while his hand lifted your leg to him, brushing his hardened member on your core. Pressing so gently as though he was on a mission to seduce you that you were left with no choice but to entangle your fingers in his hair, brushing the strands that fell on his forehead. His other hand journeyed inside your shirt. The heat of your skin, the softness of your skin furthered drove him to madness. His palm was hot as he kneaded you through your bra, pinching your nipple with a pressure you never knew.

“If you don’t want this,” he breathed as he peppered kisses on your neck, marking you for the world to see. “Tell me now. Because if you don’t, I can’t stop myself anymore, angel..”

You felt his hand on your bare breast, your bra not standing a chance against the man in front of you. His thumb brushed over your nipple repeatedly, earning him a moan you could not stop.

“Do you want this, angel? Do you want me?” He whispered hotly, his eyes now trained on your eyes with seriousness and lust. And you could only nod.

You didn’t know how, but he managed to carry you to your bed. If he noticed your belongings in boxes, he didn’t say a thing. You would be moving, yes. But it wouldn’t be abroad where it was fucking far from him. No. You would be moving in with him.

He moved fast; your clothes were gone while he was still fully clothed. He spread your legs unceremoniously, hooking them over his shoulders, and then his sinful tongue thrust inside of you. Hoseok never gave you the chance to keep up with his ministrations, you had no choice but to moan and fall apart. And even when you did, by heavens he did not stop. His hold on your thighs were tight, fingers digging on your skin as your thighs shook with endless pleasure he was giving you.

You were begging at this point, but you didn’t know if it was for him to stop or to go on. The third time you came, he crawled to you, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He showered you with praises about how good you were to him, how heavenly you tasted…how you were his. This time, he did not ask. He knew you were his.

You didn’t know when you passed out. Was it the second time he made you come with his cock? Was it because of the dizzying pleasure he managed to pull out of you? Was it because of his sweet, little promises about possessing you completely? Was it his promises that he’d take care of everything?

You didn’t know.

Hoseok watched you as you slept beside him, his body momentarily sated as he looked at his angel. He admired the marks on your neck, admired the bruises on your thighs. He smiled to himself as he brushed your hair away from your face. How could you think of leaving him when it was this good, he thought.

But never mind that.

You wouldn’t leave. His phone dinged from an email, and he smirked evilly as he read that the person he recommended for the job you had previously accepted was successful. The fashion company replaced you willingly with Hoseok’s promise that he would model one of their collections. You would be sad, though. But that was fine. He did this for you. He did this so the two of you would grow even closer. You shouldn’t worry, though. Hoseok thought of everything. A month from now, you would start your work with a fashion company. But this time, it as in Korea where he could see you, where he could keep you.

See, anyone was replaceable. But to him, you weren’t. You were the only one.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (yandere co-stars Younghoon&Hyunjae) 6.6k, yandere, idol/actor!reader, period drama, inappropriate behavior, power imbalance, harassment, sexual harassment, alcohol consumption, non-con, dub-con, secret recording, blackmail, tag-team, handjob, fingering, breast play, penetration, double penetration, possessive behavior (@starillusion13)

“And cut!”

The smile faded from your lips and you tried to move the hand around your waist, only to be pulled closer by the owner of said hand. You were leaning away from your co-star, but that just encouraged them to move closer, holding you up so you wouldn’t fall.

“The scene’s over, you can let go now.”

“Why don’t we rehearse it again, just you and me.”

“I’m good.”

You made sure you had steady footing before shoving Hyunjae off of you, and this time he got the message. You gave him a content smile and rushed off to your dressing room. Once inside you could take a breath and relax. Being around guys was always an issue since you were an idol, but this was something new entirely. Your fans would understand this was work, but if your co-stars kept being so weird it would become a problem. This show was your first leading role, and your chance to really break into the industry. You wanted this to be a success but the two male actors working alongside you, Younghoon and Hyunjae, weren’t making it easy.

This was a historical drama where you played a princess who had recently lost her family, leaving her as the sole heir to inherit the throne. The problem of course was the fact that the kingdom still needed a king, which meant your character had to be wed. Many princes wanted to take on the role, but two in particular seemed the most promising. Besides competing with each other, they were both trying to win the princess’ heart.

You didn’t mind playing a damsel in distress and having two men fight for your affections. You had portrayed such feelings while filming MVs before. The real problem was Younghoon and Hyunjae in real life. They were practically method acting, and doing all kinds of off-script and off-screen things to get your attention. It was very uncomfortable at times, but the director never called them out on their behavior. You had mentioned it before to them and the producer, but they said it all fit the characters and would only heighten the performance. It seemed like there really was no difference between the script and real life.

No one listened to you and just told you what to do. You were still too new in the field to be taken seriously. As much as you wanted this all to stop, you were determined to bite your tongue and see this through. You might not get a chance like this again, and you certainly weren’t gonna let two men ruin your career. Besides rehearsals and script reading, you avoided them. You always declined their invitations to go out after hours, or let yourself be alone with either of them. They really hadn’t gotten the hint yet, or maybe they just thought they were all that. You knew that Younghoon was rather popular, having appeared in other dramas before, and Hyunjae was also known, even if he was seen as more of a pretty face than an actual actor.

Outside of their rather inappropriate and rude behavior, they were good co-stars, and good actors. When the cameras were rolling you all played your parts and could do a good job. It’s just when they stopped that things became weird. They were so professional around everyone, like they were completely different people, but when it came to you, it was a whole other story. You could tell there was something in their eyes whenever they caught your gaze. While they stared it seemed like there was no one else but the two of you, but you’d quickly look away before someone noticed.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Why would I be excited?”

“Cause it’s our first kiss scene.”

“What!? We’re supposed to be filming-”

“I know, but I talked to the director.” Younghoon explained. “Since in the scene our characters would be kissing for the first time, I thought it’d be good to film it earlier as we’re both still a bit awkward with each other, and that reality can help further sell where our characters are at.”

“I… I guess…”

“I’m so glad you agree. I really wish we could practice the scene, but we can practice the other scenes down the line. Although Hyunjae might get a bit jealous, which is good.”

“Is it?”

“The chemistry between all of us will play well this way. We really should do our own private rehearsals, you know.”

“But it wouldn’t make sense for our characters.” You quickly retorted. “As the princess I can’t just be left alone with one of the princes. You’re supposed to be fighting each other above all.”

“Hm, true, although me and Hyunjae are good friends. Don’t worry though, we can make our rivalry look real. The news might even write about how we actually hate each other.”

“Cool, you two do that. I’m gonna go get out of make-up.”

“Ah, shall I come with? We are done for the day after all.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure you have-”

“Come on now. It’ll be good for our bonding. We have to get to know each other better anyway, we have a press tour once we’re done filming to promote the show.”

“Right…”

Younghoon pushed you along over to hair and make-up. To your unfortunate surprise Hyunjae was already in a chair. He had been reading the script when he saw you two walk in and immediately perked up.

“Hello, y/n, what brings you here?”

“Gosh you can be stupidly handsome sometimes, can’t you?” Younghoon teased. “We’re here to get our make-up off like you.”

“I wanted to hear y/n say it.” Hyunjae remarked. “But I appreciate the compliment. Do you think I’m handsome too, y/n?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Come on, you can be honest. Tell me, would you fuck me?”

You choked on air and immediately turned away from Hyunjae. You wound up coughing a bit, trying to steady your breathing. You could hear the two others, and staff, chuckling to themselves, but this wasn’t funny to you at all. Once you were alright you turned back around.

“That’s not an appropriate thing to say.”

“And you didn’t answer no.” Hyunjae smiled. “It’s alright, I know what you’re really thinking anyway. Sit down, the sooner you get out of make-up the sooner we can leave.”

“We?”

“The director wants us all to go out for dinner.” Younghoon stated. “To celebrate the end of pre-production and the beginning of the actual filming. Which means we can’t have a lot of alcohol, but it’ll still be fun.”

“Oh.”

Today had been the last day of dress rehearsal, giving everyone a chance to get used to the make-up and costumes before the real filming began tomorrow. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to celebrate just yet, but everyone could use a positive boost before the production work began. Once out of make-up you went to your dressing room to get out of costume and change into normal clothes. It wasn’t all that shocking to find Younghoon and Hyunjae waiting for you since they wanted the three of you to go together. You didn’t have much choice in the matter so you just followed along. 

The car ride to the restaurant felt awkward to you. They filled in the silence talking and would occasionally try to bring you into the conversation but you only answered in short sentences. They didn’t push anything which you were grateful for. As soon as you arrived at the restaurant you got out of the car and went off to find your manager and friends. You wouldn’t be able to avoid the two of them the whole night since the main cast was seated together. The boys made a point to sit on either side of you to keep you sandwiched between them. It was gonna be a long night, but at least you had plenty of practice on how to put on a smile.

The other two boys were more popular than you, so they easily got caught up in other conversations with staff, along with the director and producer. You made some small talk with those around you, still very new to a big production and all the people around. Everyone was still friendly, and excited to work with you for the next few months. The night went well, although you felt rather shy when Younghoon wanted to make a toast, and had you and Hyunjae stand up to give it alongside him. You were poured a shot, and it was only right to take it. Then Hyunjae insisted you take another as he hadn’t poured you the first one. You didn’t really drink, and you weren’t planning on doing so tonight, yet here you were taking two shots.

Since you didn’t drink, you were very much a lightweight and two shots could do some damage. Of course this dinner wasn’t meant to last long but by then you were a little gone and needed help. In your haze you couldn’t make out much but you could recall Younghoon and Hyunjae volunteering to take you back to your room. After that things were blurry, but you did wake up in your own bed, so that was a good sign. You had a bit of a headache but apparently the boys had left you plenty of remedies to help. Once you felt a bit better you made your way to set, getting into hair and make-up, looking over the script. Then you suddenly remembered what you were filming today. A kissing scene.

“Fuck…” 

It wasn’t something to really be upset about. You were going to wind up kissing them eventually, and multiple times at that. This was work, and none of it was real, at least for you. Once you were all set you joined your co-stars, taking in the scenery you’d be filming in. Younghoon happily approached you, coming up from behind and hugging you. A yelp escaped your lips, but he just kept smiling.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I… I guess… uh… thanks for last night.”

“Ah, do you remember?”

“Not much, but I got back safely, and my manager said you left me a lot of hangover remedies.”

“We did. You’re such a cute drunk you know that.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“Tipsy then, either way, let’s do a good job today.”

“Yeah.”

🖤

Since this was such a big project you couldn’t do any other activities. You’d leave messages for your fans on SNS and with approval showed some pictures of you on set. You avoided sharing any of you with your co-stars, not wanting to stir up drama. There had already been some backlash about you partaking in this production, but everyone was on your side to defend you. Being an idol was great, but you knew that was a short lived career compared to acting, and you wanted to be able to do both for as long as possible. At the beginning of filming the boys actually seemed to behave themselves, making things much easier for you, but of course that was only ever gonna be short lived.

“Princess-”

“Stop, please, just stop.” You took a breath and looked to the heavens. “This isn’t about what I want, it never has been, and it never will. I have to do what’s best for the kingdom.”

“What you want does matter. If you can’t do what’s best for yourself, how can you look after your kingdom? Even if I were to become king, this place is your home.”

“Which is why I must do the right thing.”

“You can do the right thing and still have what you want.”

You were suddenly turned around and kissed, deeply. Your eyes went wide and you immediately shoved Hyunjae away from you, followed by a swift slap across the face.

“What the fuck, Hyunjae!”

“Cut! Cut!”

The cameras stopped rolling and you wiped away the taste left on your lips. You could tell everyone was whispering to themselves. The director came over.

“What happened?”

“That wasn’t part of the script.” You remarked. “He just-”

“I’m sorry, I’m very sorry.” Hyunjae apologized while bowing. “I was so caught up in the moment it just felt like my character would do that. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize.” The director said. “I felt that as well. Even your reaction was on point y/n.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“This is an important moment, you’re bearing your heart but also hiding it, knowing where your responsibilities lie, yet the prince cannot hold back hearing such things. He acts in the moment to show his passion and you respond accordingly. Even in this situation, you put your kingdom first. I liked this, we should keep this in and rework the scene a bit. Good job you two.”

“Ah, thank you, sir.” Hyunjae bowed. “Thank you.”

You were left speechless, not only did Hyunjae get away with this, but he’d get to do it again. You had time so you went off to your green room, needing a moment to settle your feelings and focus on the job. You felt so dirty for the unexpected kiss. Not to mention the potential scandals that could come out of this. If anything you were lucky the director wanted to add all that in, or else any pictures getting leaked would screw you over completely. You wanted to cry, but that would only make matters worse. When there was a knock at your door you took a deep breath and went to answer. You thought Hyunjae would be there to apologize, but instead you found Younghoon.

“Are you okay?”

“Just go away.”

“I’m serious. Did he hurt you?”

“Please leave.”

“Come on, let’s talk.” Younghoon pushed his way in. “I know you feel awful, and I’m sure he does too. That was something he shouldn’t have done.”

“Well, it worked out for him.”

“And you.”

“Really?”

“Well, you get to hit him again, and everyone thinks you guys were in the heat of the moment. I know this is your first big gig, but this isn’t something you should let ruin yourself. It’s gonna be alright.”

“You’re not really helping.”

“We’re more than halfway done here. You’ve done an amazing job so far, things are gonna work out just fine.”

“Whatever.”

Another knock was at your door, except it was just a staff telling you to be back in five. You got up and checked yourself in the mirror, Younghoon adjusting your costume a bit and giving you a thumbs up. He really didn’t help, but at least his positive demeanor could get you in a better mood. When you got back on set you felt some eyes on you, but you ignored them, just wanting to focus. You were handed a revised script, looking things over when Hyunjae approached.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. It really was in the moment and just… I’m really, really, sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you hate me.”

“… let’s just keep things professional.”

“Of course.”

You couldn’t let your own feelings get in the way, so you just focused on work. After that incident both boys seemed to be on their best behavior. They were a lot friendlier with you than before, but still staying within professional boundaries. You supposed they just both really wanted to make it up to you for that whole mess. Even though Hyunjae was at fault, Younghoon also seemed to claim responsibility. Despite a rough start you began to get along with them. You’d even have them join you on some SNS posts where you’d make funny videos or do dance challenges. Along that save vein you let them post about you on their own socials. Some of the pictures they took were a bit sneaky, but they got really good angles.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“It’s gonna be hell.”

“Is it?”

“We’re filming the wedding. Do you have any idea how much clothes and accessories the bride wears? Not to mention the make-up.”

“But it’s gonna be a lot of fun.” Hyunjae chuckled. “I want to be the first to see you.”

“Aren’t you gonna fight Younghoon for it?”

“It would be very in character. I wonder which of us will be the most popular among the viewers.”

“You’ve both done a great job.”

“But I really want to know which will be the popular ship.”

“We’ll find out during the press tour.”

“I’m really looking forward to that. Although I don’t know if I can just let you go.”

“Huh?”

“You got a whole other industry waiting for you when you’re done here. When would we ever get the chance to cross paths again?”

“I’m sure we will someday.”

“You promise?”

“I can’t make that promise.”

“Ouch. You don’t like me?”

“Hyunjae, like you said, we’re from different industries. I don’t always get to pick my schedules, and you have your own things to do.”

“I’d happily make time for you.”

“We’ll see.”

A leading role was definitely a lot more work than previous jobs, but you didn’t mind. It was all the more fun, and when you had some down time you loved to watch what else was being filmed. Towards the end of filming,everyone was looking forward to the big fight scene between Younghoon and Hyunjae, which was also the end for one of them. They had been rehearsing for a long time, and when the big day came everyone was on set. You were in costume and having the stylist working on you while you watched the scene play out. A roaring applause filled the air when the director yelled ‘cut’ and you were so excited to see this on screen in the coming weeks. Younghoon and Hyunjae noticed you nearby and rushed over, still covered in fake blood and real sweat. Their staff members rushed over with them, trying to clean them up and cool them off.

“Did you like it?” Hyunjae asked. “I looked so cool, didn’t I?”

“Says the loser.” Younghoon commented. “Did you see the whole thing?”

“Yes, I did. You both did a great job. I can’t wait to see the final edit of it.”

“Gosh, I wish I could hug you right now.”

“I’m in costume, so no.”

“I’d ask if you’re gonna miss me.” Hyunjae said. “But I’m still gonna be around. I have a few scenes left to shoot, and we haven’t done our final scene.”

“I know. I can’t get rid of you that easily.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ya, nothing, let’s go.” Younghoon interrupted. “We have to clean up, come on.”

Younghoon grabbed Hyunjae and the two went off to their changing rooms. After such a scene everyone seemed in high spirits and the rest of the filming went well. Your scenes were all with other characters, so you didn’t see much of them until early the next morning. Despite going off to clean up, the boys still had some scenes in their bloody outfits, some specifically with you.

“… princess… why… why are you crying…?”

“You… you… why would you do this… you didn’t have to… why…”

“Sh, sh… it’s okay… don’t cry… this… this makes it easier… for you…”

“Liar… it just hurts…”

“You have to be strong… for your kingdom… for me… you’ll be a great Queen…”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“… you have nothing… to apologize for… be happy… my love… for me…”

Hyunjae smiled up at you, bloody teeth and all. Your tears blurred your visions and fell onto his face. Despite your pain he had a smile on his face til the very end. You held him tightly, weeping into his chest.

“Cut! Good job, everyone!”

“… y/n… y/n, darling, you can stop crying now.”

Hyunjae carefully moved to sit up, lifting up your face. You were still sobbing, and now you couldn’t help but choke out a laugh.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you did good.”

Hyunjae wrapped his arms around you and gently rubbed your back, chuckling a bit. He knew what it was like to be overwhelmed by your emotions in the moment. He held you until you calmed down, going with you back to your green room. Younghoon had heard the news and came over to see you. Your puffy red eyes made his heart melt.

“Aigoo, my poor girl, are you okay?”

Younghoon pulled you into his arms, assuring you that everything was fine. The two boys went into your dressing room with you, sitting on either side of you on the couch. You weren’t outright sobbing anymore, but you still had some tears.

“It’s okay if you just want to cry.” Younghoon assured. “You must have things bottled up inside.”

“Everyone will love the scene.” Hyunjae added. “You did amazing.”

You honestly felt so embarrassed about the fact you couldn’t stop crying. There was always a lot you had to hold back on as an idol, and the chance to shed some tears just opened the floodgates. At least that was your last scene for the day, so you could just cry until the tears dried up. The boys stayed with you until you were alright, not saying a word but letting yourself get some relief. Once you were alright, and they were sure, they let your staff in to help you clean up and get back to your room. It had been a long day for you, so you needed lots of rest.

The next day everyone was giving you words of encouragement and telling you that you did a great job. Even though you felt like that day was a misstep you got through the rest of filming just fine. Hyunjae still hung around the set, although he wasn’t always in costume. Since he didn’t have much else going on he’d always be around for your scenes, watching you and encouraging you. He was definitely there for your last scene with Younghoon, teasing the other, but also glad to be there to see things close out.

“It’s a beautiful morning.”

“It is.”

It was always hard to film with the light of a sunrise, so this scene had to be done right. You had a lot of expectations, but all these days of filming gave you confidence, and you wanted to end things on a good note. You wanted to be proud of your work.

“You’ll be a wonderful Queen.”

“I don’t think that title suits me. Neither did that of princess.”

“Yet you took care of the kingdom and its people. The title could not be held by another.”

“And what of you? Do you promise me that you’ll be a good King?”

“This is your kingdom, my love. I will care for it as I care for you.”

“I’ll keep you to that.”

Younghoon leaned down to place a soft kiss against your lips, letting it slowly turn to something with more passion. That is until the director yelled ‘cut’ but you two took your time to end things. Younghoon pressed his head against yours, the two of you catching your breath.

“I’d really like to do that again.”

“Maybe if we work together in the future.”

“No, not work, for real.”

“Younghoon, are you-”

“Yes. I am, and I mean it. I want us-”

“No. Don’t say anything, you know what the answer is, so don’t ask.”

You could only offer a smile before disappearing. There was one more day of filming, but you were done with the boys. They still watched, and you could feel Younghoon’s deep stare following you. There wasn’t much avoiding it, especially at the wrap-up party. Just like before you were sat with your co-stars. And like last time the two boys spent most of the night chatting with others. You also didn’t feel as awkward this time around, having gotten to know the people you were working with. The only problem now was the alcohol.

Since this party was to celebrate the end of filming everyone was drinking, and a lot. You still weren’t much for drinks, and it wouldn’t do well with your image. Although at one point in the night Younghoon and Hyunjae insisted they pour you a shot and it was hard to say no given that they had done this before. You took a shot with each of them, getting cheers from everyone around. At least that was done with, but later into the night they insisted on another, saying they didn’t remember the first time. No one took your side in the matter, probably too drunk to remember too, so you took another two shots.

After those you definitely didn’t feel like yourself, but you tried to act normal. It wasn’t long after those second shots that the party started to wind down and people were going home. You were more than ready to leave and go up to find your manager, asking them to bring the car around. They obviously couldn’t drink at all since they had to be the ones to drive you back. You waited outside the restaurant, thankfully the night wasn’t so cold. The car pulled up and you reached to slide the door open when another came over and did it for you.

“Heading back already?”

“Uh… yeah, gotta rest up. I’ll be going back to my usual schedules soon.”

“So you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?”

“You were busy…”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

Younghoon leaned in for a kiss but you placed your hand at his mouth to stop him. You had been worried about something like this happening all night given how much he drank. There probably wasn’t even much point in saying anything since he probably wouldn’t remember.

“You should get back to the others, I’m sure Hyunjae-”

“Where are you going?”Hyunjae asked, approaching the two of you. “You’re not gonna say goodbye?”

“It’s late and I have to get going.”

“Then we’ll go with you.”

“That’s not-”

“Come on. We got you back to your place last time, let’s do it again.”

Before you could protest, Hyunjae got into the car. Next thing you knew Younghoon was pushing you inside as well and getting in after you. He told your manager to just drive you back to your room, and that they’d be coming along like the previous time. You couldn’t really argue so you just nodded to your manager. They were likely both drunk and not thinking straight. The car ride was quiet and you were dreading when it came to a stop. The boys hopped out first, each holding a hand out to you in order to help. You put on a shy smile and stepped out. You were going to tell your manager to wait in order for the two boys to get a ride back but the quickly said they’d call for their own rides later.

They weren’t leaving much room for argument, so your manager left, and you were stuck with the two. They led you up to your room as they knew where it was, one of them getting the key from your bag and opening the door. If you had the chance to go in first you could have potentially locked them out, but instead Hyunjae walked in and Younghoon dragged you along. When the door shut behind you a chill went down your spine. Being alone with these two wasn’t a good idea. Hyunjae immediately laid down on your bed, making himself comfortable whereas Younghoon had yet to release your arm.

“Uh… you two should head back… I appreciate you bringing me here but-”

“We’re here cause you wanted us.” Younghoon commented. “So why would we leave?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Awe, you really don’t remember? We thought you were playing dumb out of embarrassment but two shots of liquor really messed with your memory, huh?”

“I… I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not sure if I should be upset or giddy.” Hyunjae said. “But I can jog your memory.”

“What?”

The two boys shared a knowing look and then Hyunjae pulled out his phone. He seemed to be looking for something, and before you could ask you heard a voice.

“Please…”

“Please, what? You wanna cum? You gotta use your words, babygirl.”

It was your voice. You were begging and whimpering, sounding like a complete mess. You didn’t want to believe it, but it was hard to deny. Hearing your voice also sobered you up.

“I… I wanna… both… both of you…”

“Ah, you think you can take us both? When was the last time someone attended to your needs?”

“What the fuck is that!?”

“What do you think?” Hyunjae chuckled. “The last time we played.”

“You recorded me!?”

“How could we not?” Younghoon added. “You were so adorable.”

“Are… are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Why would we do that? No one else deserves to see and hear such beautiful things.”

“Then… then why-”

“We’re here to keep our promise, remember, well, I guess you don’t.” Hyunjae mentioned. “We only played a little bit, we didn’t get to feel you from the inside cause we had work tomorrow. But we promised to do it right once we were done filming. It’s over now, babygirl, we’re here to take care of you.”

“No, no… I was tipsy… and not thinking-”

“We had more drinks than you.” Younghoon reminded. “Perhaps you took advantage of us. Your two wonderful co-stars that were just trying to get you home after a night of drinks and celebration. We took some selfies and I accidentally hit record before you came onto me.”

“I… what are you insinuating…?”

“The life of an idol. You have to be so careful with any boy you interact with. I’m sure some of your fans weren’t happy about your role. You might get more backlash once the show airs. I know you can overcome all that with our help of course, but if we’re not on good terms… I can’t imagine how my fans will act. We wouldn’t want anyone digging around and finding our… secrets.”

“No, you guys-”

“You asked us to take care of you.” Hyunjae countered. “I have it all on video. You were whining about how you rarely get a good fucking since you’re so busy with schedules and can’t really make any guy friends. We offered our services, and you begged us to be here once we had the time. The press tour doesn’t start for another few days. Plenty of time for us to keep our word.”

“I… uh… no… no this-”

“It’s just between us. There’s no shame. I can’t imagine how difficult the life of an idol is. When you want to step away we could certainly help you get into your industry. You’d get some of your life back, as well as some freedom. When was the last time you were loved? Actually loved, and not just by adoring fans, hm?”

“I don’t know…”

“The answer was when you were with us, but I know you don’t remember right now. How about we help you with that?”

“This isn’t right, it isn’t-”

“Fair?” Younghoon questioned. “What’s not fair is you playing hard to get. Having you is the greatest gift. So many fans love you, but I’d get to love you for real.”

“What…?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel anything? We’ve spent the last several weeks falling in love. You can’t tell me there’s nothing.”

“I-”

“That heat of the moment kiss was wonderful.” Hyunjae added. “I know I certainly felt something. Still do, gosh I’ve been waiting to be done with the show. It’s not fair I didn’t end up with you.”

“Next time don’t be the second lead.” Younghoon teased. “But we both can have her now. So what do you say?”

“This… this isn’t right…”

“Then let’s do all the wrong things.”

You were still trying to wrap your head around everything when Younghoon came over and kissed you. His lips tasted like alcohol and you could feel your own sobriety starting to leave you. Although after a moment you pushed him away, taking a breath.

“No… no, I already told you-”

“This will be our secret. Just the three of us.”

You didn’t get a chance to answer before Hyunjae yanked you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and pressing his lips to yours. He kissed you roughly, clearly desperate and no longer holding back. You didn’t kiss back, trying to get him off, but he wasn’t giving you much room to move. He only pulled away for air, staring at you with lust filled eyes. 

“Stop… we’re all… intoxicated…”

“Just a few drinks.” Younghoon commented. “To get us started.”

Hyunjae slid his hands up your shirt, feeling your skin. His sudden touch made you jump, but he kept you under him. Before you had the chance to try and stop him Younghoon grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. A devilish grin adorned his face.

“Let’s create all those off-screen scenes, shall we?”

His words made you very shy, but you were still at their mercy. Your shirt was pulled up past your bra, then that was moved to expose your breasts. Hyunjae immediately took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive skin and giving your nipple a playful tug. Younghoon kept your arms pinned with one hand while the other massaged your lonely breast, getting a moan out of you. Next thing you knew there were fingers traveling down between your legs. A frustrated groan escaped Hyunjae’s lips as he had to pull away from your breast to get you out of your pants.

His movements clearly let you know he was getting impatient. He was quick to get your legs free, his face diving between your legs this time. You let out a yelp when you felt his nose running up along your panties. Hyunjae took in a deep breath, pushing your legs further apart. You felt his fingers start rubbing you through your panties, the fabric quickly getting wet as it was pushed against your folds. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but that meant your gaze would find Younghoon. That same smile was still on his face.

He made sure you couldn’t escape as he got on top of you, straddling you between his legs and blocking your view of Hyunjae. Now you could only feel what the other boy was doing, leaving the visuals to your imagination. Although Younghoon drew your attention to something else. Despite being fully clothed and atop you, he still had enough room to unzip his pants and pull his dick out. He already had a bit of a hard-on and didn’t feel shy about stroking himself in front of you. He maintained heavy eye contact as he twitched and moaned, trying to keep some control. You shut your eyes, but he didn’t seem to like that.

“No, no, none of that.”

You felt a light slap on your cheek, Younghoon encouraging you to open your eyes. As you did so you were met with his smiling face. Then you felt Hyunjae push your panties aside, running his cold fingers against your core. Another yelp escaped your lips.

“She’s wet and ready, hyung.”

“Prep her properly, no need to rush a good thing.”

You could hear Hyunjae whining but he didn’t do anything rash. Instead you felt a finger go into your core, a moan escaping you. Both boys chuckled, but continued with their actions.

“Can I cum on your pretty tits?” Younghoon asked between moans. “I’ll try not to aim for your lips.”

As you thought to give an answer you felt a second finger enter you, Younghoon taking your moan as approval. He started stroking himself faster, throwing his head back in ecstasy and bucking his hips forward. He didn’t last long after that, spilling his seed onto your chest, your breasts, and keeping to his word. You felt the warmth and stickiness on your skin, the sensation adding onto what you were already feeling. By now you were certainly getting overwhelmed.

“I can’t hold back anymore.”

Hyunjae removed his fingers then shoved Younghoon off of you. He climbed on to the bed, spreading your legs apart. He quickly undid his pants, stroking himself to get hard and then you felt him stretch you open. A loud moan escaped your lips and you arched your back, desperately grasping at the bedsheets.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck.”

“I’m that good, baby girl?”

You couldn’t really talk anymore, just feeling everything. It really had been a long time since you were last taken care of in such a manner. You slowly began to move with Hyunjae’s thrust, only focusing on your own pleasure. You didn’t even bother holding back your moans, just letting everything go and being in the moment. Perhaps it was also the alcohol keeping your mind off the reality of your situation. Hyunjae kept a steady rhythm, his own groans and moans dancing alongside yours. You could tell he was close, as were you, but before either of you could reach climax everything stopped.

Younghoon had pulled the other boy away from you, leaving you suddenly empty. You whimpered, more upset over the loss of friction and ignoring what the other two were yelling about. It wasn’t until you felt two dibs in the bed that you realized their attention had returned to you. Hyunjae pulled you up, meeting your lips with his own. You kissed back, desperate to return to where you were. Once he pulled away he was giggling, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist, the other guiding his cock back into you.

A satisfied moan escaped your lips, and you leaned against Hyunjae. You didn’t notice Younghoon coming up from behind at first, not until you felt his hand down between your legs. His fingers massaged your clit, getting you to that edge again but he stopped short. You whimpered, wanting them to stop teasing you. Although soon enough you realized this was prep for something more. You felt something else pressing against your back, and then dipping between your legs. You had little time to process before you felt Hyunjae moving again, soon followed by another joining the party.

You grabbed onto Hyunjae, throwing your head back and resting against Younghoon’s shoulder. They both moved together, overwhelming you with pleasure. You were seeing white, hands exploring your body and smearing around the fluids on your chest. You were completely at their mercy now, letting them do as they pleased with your body. You didn’t last long in their embrace, being pushed over the edge so viciously, given no moment to breathe. Your body shook with pleasure as they kept moving inside you, taking advantage of your current state and loving the way you squeezed them tightly.

You weren’t given a break. Both boys continuing in their own desire for orgasm and using your body to do so. You were partially conscious, but well aware of the warmth between your legs. At some point you were laying down again, sandwiched between your co-stars, snuggling against one of them. You felt a hand on your head, petting you gently, but you were too worn out to care. The morning would be a very different story though.

“I hope you’ll stay with us.” Hyunjae mumbled. “We’d take such good care of you.”

“Hm…”

“I guess that’s a yes.”

“Either way.” Younghoon added. “She’s ours now.”

[irondad-and-spiderson]

Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙

Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉

A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit

When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.

-

The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars

“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.

“You got shot on patrol last month.”

“This was worse.”

Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.

-

the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus

“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”

Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.

And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.

Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.

-

Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)

Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.

My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.

The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.

:)

Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway

While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.

Never did he think he’d have a sighting.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”

-

Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)

Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.

The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.

Or

5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed

-

Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))

Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.

Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.

Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.

He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.

OR

A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.

Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing

[yelenasdiary]

Take One

Pairing: Florence Pugh X Fem! Reader.

Summary: One scene is all it took to multiply the feelings Florence has for you. 

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: none

Type: Fluff 

AC: Scene’s marked with ** & I’m going to switch this one up and give it from Flo’s POV! Enjoy *This is a request from my old blog!*

Flo’s POV:

My job is great! I love it! I have worked on so many great movies and shows and worked with some amazing cast and crew but this new film is special, I’m co-stared with my best friend, Y/n. The moment we knew we were both casted for this film we laughed at the idea of playing a couple. We’re best friends, so it was definitely going to be a blast filming with her. 

** Nora (Y/n’s character) sits typing on laptop. Notices Ruby indecisive on the menu.

N: You should try the chef’s special

-Ruby turns to Nora and smiles softly-

R: I’m sorry?

N: You’ve been standing there for 10 minutes Uhmming and arrrin on what to order

-Nora looks up from laptop-

R: I’ll give it a shot -chuckles- your accent, what is it? 

N: -looks Ruby up and down, smirks- do you always ask strangers such questions?

R: -shakes head slightly- just those who are pretty

N: -smiles then gestures ruby a seat- would you like to take a seat?

R: -bites bottom lip lightly, shaking her head- nope, but thanks. -smiles and continues to order-

**

“Cut! That was perfect, thank you!” the director calls as you smile to Florence. “Okay that was slightly harder than I thought” Y/n spoke trying to keep the Romanian accent that her character has. “You did great!” I tell her with a smile.

“We need you guys back after lunch for a few more scenes, one of these scenes is the first kiss between the characters so make sure you guys are ready for that” the director smiled at us as Y/n and I walked over to the refreshments table.

“Nervous about that?” Y/n asked me as we grabbed a bottle of water each, “What? To kiss you? No, I think your nervous though” I smirked to her. “Oh please, you’re not the first big shot actor I’ve had to kiss” she joked back. Truth was, I was nervous, very! I’ve liked Y/n for a while now but I’m not sure how she feels so I have kept my feelings to myself.

The director called us over for our next few scenes which we took within a few takes, you could say we work well together. “Alright, I need hair and make-up in here before we do this first kiss!” the director told us as we sat down and waited for the lovely women to come in and give us a touch up. 

“3….2…..1 ACTION!” the Director called.

** Nora and Ruby walking back to Ruby’s apartment

R: I have one question

N: -hums in response-

R: Why did you ask me on this date tonight?  We only met a few days ago.

N: Because I make you nervous and I like that

R: you don’t make me nervous -blushes-

N: yeah?

R: yeah

N: Can I kiss you then? -both stop at street crossing, turning to face one another-

R: -nervously nods-

**

I felt my heart face as Y/n took the small steps closer to me, she gently caress’s my left cheek looking at my lips as I looked at hers. For a moment it felt like the world stopped when I felt her lips press against mine. My eyes closed instantly then I gently placed my left hand over her right hand that stayed caressing my face. The kiss was short but sweet, soft and I hated pulling away. 

“Cut!” the director called as we pulled away. “Don’t go anywhere just yet, I want to watch this over” the director added. 

“Well that went better than I thought it would” Y/n smirked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raised my eyebrows

“Nothing, I just kinda thought you’d be lower on my list” she joked 

“You have a list?!”

“Yeah… I get to kiss all these great actors, why not?” she laughed, I shook my head playfully.

“Where am I on this list?”

“A solid 4” 

“4?! Come on!” I playfully slapped her right arm.

“Perfect girls! We don’t need you back until tomorrow, thank you!” the director cut in.

As the months went on, we had more kissing scenes we had to do. Every night I stayed awake thinking about how soft her lips are, how gently she is and I know it’s just her acting but I can’t help melt into her touch every single time we had to act as a couple. 

“Flo, you ready?” Y/n spoke as she broke me from my thoughts, “yeah, let’s do this” I smiled. 

“Okay, last scene, hopefully our last shot. 3….2….1 ACTION!

** Ruby goes to Nora’s apartment, in destress.

N: Ruby, what are you doing here? I told you not to contact me…

R: I can’t stop think about you. I don’t want this to end. Don’t go.

N: but I can’t stay

R: then let me come with you!

N: I would never ask you to leave your life here for mine

R: your not asking me, I’m telling you I want this

N: I can’t… Ruby I am sorry. You have a good life here, you don’t follow me across the world

**

This was it. This is the moment were the characters share a big kiss and everything ends well. My character has to take the lead this time. I stepped closer and pulled Y/n closer to me with power, I cupped her face gently and kissed her lips. I felt her arms wrap around my waist and pull me even closer, Deeping our kiss. When I felt Y/n start to pull away I took it upon myself and pulled her close again, never breaking the kiss. The director called cut and we pulled away, I didn’t notice how out of character I was until I looked up at Y/n.

“Flo?” she spoke softly. I felt tears creeping down my face before I wiped them away quickly. “I’- I’m…sor…I’m sorry….i-“ I ran off in a hurry. 

“Florence!” Y/n called as I left the set, running to my dressing room. Closing the door, taking a moment to calm myself, replaying the moment in my head as I felt my tears fall freely. 

“Hey..Flo?” I heard Y/n’s voice enter my dressing room. “I’m fine, I’m sorry I just need a moment” I replied, not facing her. 

“Florence. Look at me, please” 

I turned to her, avoiding the eye contact. “Hey” she spoke softly and she came closer to me. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself, and I’ve probably ruined that scene now”

“Ruined? I think that’s exactly what they wanted” 

Y/n gently cupped my face, lifting it to look at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way” she said, looking at me in the eyes. “I’m really sorry if I have ruined our friendship…” I replied. 

“No honey, you didn’t” she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her hold. 

“I didn’t?” 

“No, Flo, you could never ruin what we have” she held me tighter. “How about we go get some lunch and talk about this?” 

I nodded, “please” I whispered.  

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[baw-sixteen]

the great war - dr3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x social media manager! reader

in which he has to leave and she wants to stay

August 24, 2022

The news didnt shock you. But it shocked him. It wasn't a mutual decision. It was their decision- Mclaren's decision. With just an email sent, their work was done and so was his.

"Babe, did you see this?"

You felt numb.

Of course you did. You were there. When they decided to end his contract. When they brought in the young Alpine reserve driver. A rookie. Another aussie.

You were given a choice.

To stay and take on the role as Oscar's social media manager or leave. Leave Mclaren, a team you've worked with for 7 years with Daniel.

"Babe?"

You were guilty. That orange envelope sat heavy in your drawer. You were yet to open it and read it. That one email from Zak sat idle in your inbox.

You didnt wanna read it.

You didn't want to leave Mclaren. They were your family.

You didn't want to leave Daniel. He was the love of your life.

He walked into the bedroom, his phone in his hand. "Hey, whats wrong?"

You said nothing. What could you have said? Oh hey Daniel! I just wanted to let you know that yeah I knew about you getting sacked but i didnt tell you vecause I want to stay at Mclaren?

There was nothing to say.

"I mean clearly this has to be a mistake, right? I am surely not gonna be jobless next year right? I mean who would drive for them?"

Your eyes were filled with tears. How do you tell him? You wanted to scream. To burn the whole Mclaren Centre down.

Sobs racked your body as the bed dipped down and Daniel's long arms, the ones you called home, wrapped around your body.

"This is a fucking joke it is."

The moment was cut off by the shrill voice of your ringtone.

Zak.

Daniel kept his eyes trained on you as he watched your hands tremble as you put the phone to your ear.

"Yes?"

"He needs to sign the deal. Bring him to the centre."

"Okay."

"Yn?"

"Hm?"

"Have you made a decision yet?"

"I- uhh"

You wanted to cry again. You didn't know. You knew it would break his heart if you said yes. And it would break yours if you said no.

"You still have till the end of the year."

"Okay."

Your hands fell down in your lap as you finally looked up at the man in front of you. His curly hair was still tousled from last night's sleep.

You didnt need to say anything. He knew that look. You stared at him as he paced around the room.

"Daniel."

That was the first time he saw that emotion in your eyes. Guilt. You knew.

You got up from the bed and started walking towards the door.

"You knew."

Time felt like it had stopped. There was an angry ocean in between you. He was so close yet so far. You wanted to hug him, tell him everything was going to be okay but you knew. you knew nothing would be okay now.

"Yes"

____________________________________________

The car ride to the McLaren Centre was quiet. The small humming of the engine comforted you as your boyfriend didn't even share you a glance. You got out of the car and started walking towards the conference room where everyone was supposed to be. You were shivering. It was summer but somehow it felt like you were in the bloody Appalachians.

Daniel banged open the door of the conference room as he angrily walked inside. His anger soon washed away as he saw the board of directors, Andrea, Zak and other members sitting around the table.

"Daniel." Zak got up from the chair and walked towards him. Daniel felt like a little kid who was called into the principal's office. "Listen I know how you feel but.."

You zoned out the whole conversation as different members of the room took their turns to say how incapable Daniel was, how not enough your boyfriend was.

He was enough.

He was enough for that piece of tractor they had built. He was fucking brilliant.

You could see Daniel's ego shrank as they scratched and poked at his flaws.

One thing you had learned about Formula One drivers after working with them for so many years was they had an ego. All of them. They need it to be the best. As Max used to always say, in order to be the best you need to think that you are the best.

You could see that confident Daniel fade away in front of eyes. You felt so fucking sorry but there was nothing you could have done.

Later that day, Michael and Blake had come over. Daniel being without a job next year meant he was out of a job too. You knew he wouldn't like that.

"So what do we do?"

You were in the kitchen, the both of you. Daniel was talking to his parents on the phone in the living.

"He's my best friend. And the love of your life. We both love him just as much as we love our jobs. So what are you going to do?"

"McLaren wants me to stay. They want me to move on as Oscar's social media manager."

For the first time, you felt some weight off your shoulders. You hadn't been able to tell anyone about this.

"Im guessing you're taking it?"

"I dont know."

You looked at him. The only person who could understand your dilemma was him. More than needing the money, you loved your job.

"Staying would break his heart and leaving would break mine." You sighed. "What about you? I mean now you're in the market too."

"I have got an offer"

That was the first time you had smiled in a day.

"Ooh! Where to, boss?"

"Alpha Tauri. Yuki Tsunoda's trainer is leaving so.."

Dilemma hung in the air as you picked up two coffee cups and Michael picked two up. You walked to the living room where Daniel and Blake sat, an orange envelope sat open in front of them.

You felt like your heart had stopped.

One of the cups trembled a bit but Michael steadied it before it could fall. Daniel looked at you. His eyes filled with betrayal.

"How did you-"

"How did I? How could you!" There had only been a few times Daniel had raised his voice at you but never like that.

"Daniel I was gonna tell you-"

"Oh to hell with that! You should have burned these papers the moment you even received them!"

"Oh Daniel please-"

"I can't believe this! My own girlfriend!"

You, Blake and Michael watched as he paced across the room. With each step he took, with each word he said, it felt like he was stepping on your broken heart.

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Are you gonna take it?"

Silence filled the room. All of them looked at you expectantly. They were waiting for an answer. But how could you let them know? That so were you. The war wasn't over yet. Not one side had won.

"I dont know"

____________________________________________

2nd April, 2023

"Hey, you!"

You turned around to the sound of the voice.

"Hey."

"I just met up with Joe and Grace. They were looking for you."

You smiled. Even after all this time you stayed their favourite.

"I dont know if he'd want me to meet them. He's here isnt he?"

"Of course he is. I know Aus is home for me too but everywhere I go his big-ass face is everywhere."

A small laugh came out of you. You wouldnt call the decision you made last year as the best but it sure was one of the best. Yes you had lost Daniel but you were happy. Oscar wasnt much of a menace until it came to Lando. But you missed him. And being in Australia was harder. He was the home hero. Even if he wasnt racing, he was the hero.

"We should go. Fp2 is about to end."

Michael sighed.

"Yeah. Good luck with Oscar."

"Good luck with Yuki. You need that more."

Not everyone is meant to be. Yes he was the love of your life. But god forbid you had met at the wrong time. Daniel Ricciardo might have not been the forever kind of love, but you were glad he had been the epic kind of love.

That way, even if your love didnt, you both had survived the great war.

____________________________________________

author's note: i really wanted to write about that! hope you enjoyed it!!