Pokemon Oneshots

Gladion x Celebrity! Reader || A Model's Touch

———

"Oh? Is that her?"

"Yeah, I think so! There's Miss (Y/N)!"

"Ooh! Miss (Y/N)! Take a quick photo with us! Please? Please?"

They're back already.

I force an absolutely picture-perfect smile and graciously reply, "I'm so sorry, but I'm in a hurry, you see." I was just trying to leave the Royal Dome for a quick stroll to clear my mind and catch my breath... unfortunately, my mob of adoring and obnoxiously enthusiastic fans followed me everywhere I went.

You'd think that being famous was like living in a world of shimmering glitter and brilliance, but it was like walking on thin ice. You could crash into the freezing waters below and drown at any moment. The world would like to drag you down just as much as it shoves you onto a pedestal.

They screamed my name over and over and over, and I'd have to spin around and beam at them every single time as if I didn't have a care in the world.

It got tiring from time to time, but I genuinely loved the job. Popularity gave me access to many things and privileges, which I could use to help people and elevate myself.

"Please just one photo? It'll only take a second, I swear!" Another cries.

"No, no," I calmly wave my hand at them, maintaining my plastered, serene demeanor. "But I'll be back in a bit, okay?" Just let me get the heck out of here.

The group was not only squealing fangirls, too. Several males were sprinkled in, and were equally ecstatic, if not more in some cases.

I steadied my breaths and continued exiting the Royal Dome, eyes focused straight ahead. People were milling about, both around the building and inside it, but all eyes were on me. I felt a bead of cold sweat drip down my face.

After a moment of slowly trying not to trip over the crowds pressing themselves closer to me, I allowed my gaze to wander. To my astonishment, a blonde, edgy teen boy catches my eye. He didn't spare me a second glance when I passed by him. Time seemed to slow as I walked by, awe-struck.

He's the only one who didn't drool over my presence. Heck, my celebrity status would've rivaled the Masked Royal's reputation — except, I beat him too many times to count. And he didn't even glance in my direction?

Not just anyone can do that. I am a celebrity, after all. But everything about the guy screamed to me that he'd be a great model. His piercing, charmingly educated emerald eyes were enough to attract anyone. That, along with his slender frame and cold, none-of-your-business stance, would blend into just the perfect combination for success.

"Hey, Miss (Y/N)?" A girl's youthful voice snaps me out of my thoughts. The child lifts up a piece of paper. "Can I get your signature?"

"I already told you, I-"

They don't let me finish. Another hoard of fans circles me, and I begin to feel cornered. It was only people who loved me, so I shouldn't feel terrified as they seemingly were closing in on me. I don't remember being claustrophobic before today, but...

There is no escape.

A bombardment of questions is launched, and I make an effort to block as many as possible while politely trying to step out of the ring of idolizing fans.

"Hey, hey, Miss (Y/N)!"

"Can we see your Pokémon team?"

"Your hair is so pretty! What's the trick to do it like that?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Can I have a battle with you?"

"I was wondering, are you dating anyone right now?"