#ill probably be talking about this au more if you all let me

[inky-bun]

Some blacklight action as a color test thing that I did last night that ended up turning out pretty cool

This is another au version of the boss character that I made a while ago because I can’t stop making jsab aus apparently

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

if you have some, do you have any headcannons for barnaby?

honestly! not really! i don't have hcs for any of the neighbors!

[vaugarde]

also for screenwriting im basically like adapting and heavily rewriting natch and wisp’s story for like a 50 minute screenplay (partly having trouble bc i didnt care for natch’s original story and theyre now humans in an emotion driven magic realism setting about bigotry instead of the convoluted fantasy story they were in my head) and like everyones asking abt the characters and where i got the idea and i dont have the heart to say that they’re former kirby ocs that have been retooled to be their own thing twice now

[luveline]

Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding

prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k

“Hello.” 

You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 

Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 

“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 

He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 

“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 

You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 

“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 

“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”

“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 

You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 

“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 

“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 

“Yeah?” he asks softly. 

You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 

“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 

You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.

He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 

“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 

“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 

“Mm. And news from the west?” 

“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 

“Stop it.” 

“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 

“You didn’t make me sick.” 

“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 

“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 

“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 

You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 

“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 

“It’s in my face.” 

“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 

Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 

“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 

You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 

“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 

“Am I saying something wrong?”

He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 

“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 

“I’ll make you sick.” 

“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”

You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 

“Just one?” he whispers.

“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”

“Never.” 

[mintmatcha]

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

[carmesi-butterfly]

kiss me and bite me

vampire nishimura riki + female human reader. word count 1,8k. vampire au/fantasy au. warnings mention of illness and death. not proofread.

"Riki..." you murmured, the hard breathing leaving your mouth was accompanied by the soft wind, both sounds making a pleasing melody for the youthful boy, who was enchanted by you.

"Hm? What?" responded, leaving the panorama of the clear sky to look at you with curiosity, only to stumble upon your eyes shedding a few tears. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?" his body moved fast, leaving his spot where his figure lay down on the grass to reach near your body, now your faces were just a few centimeters distant from each and the closeness between your forms created a more comforting aura, appropriate for the two young lovers.

A few more tears left your eyes before you could reply, "I'm afraid of what's going to happen in the future…" your words unleashed an unstoppable sobbing by your side, leaving your lover confused for a second. After a few sobs, you took a deep breath, in an attempt to clear your throat and mind, the words stood clear in your heart searching for being released. "I'm not recovering, Riki, I'm just getting worse" you cried, "the doctor visited me yesterday… he did not tell me anything but I spied on him talking with my parents, my health is just declining and it would be a miracle for me to last long from now on" you broke the news for the boy who seemed impacted by your words.

"What are you saying…" The boy broke the silence, filled with confusion and anguish.

"I'm losing my strength, I'm tired. Soon I won't be able to get out of bed, I will lose my senses, and probably it won't take much for me to be completely worthless" Your clarifications developed more than an ache in his heart, it felt like being stabbed on the chest over and over again.

If being a vampire implied that things as such strong emotions could not be felt, why did his soul hurt this much? He felt like dying, perhaps the sin of love could kill an immortal spirit.

His body distanced from yours, not simply cutting all physical contact but also creating more distance between the two of you, getting up on his feet and looking at you from above with an indecipherable gaze.

"No… Are you going to give up this easily?!" his words hurt, from the bottom to the top of you being you were also hurting, and even though you cried incessantly, Riki didn't notice.

"I'm dying! What do you want me to do?!" your voice reciprocated his, increasing itself trying to show all the feelings it holds. "You would never understand it, because you can't die!" your body followed him, standing up from the grass to confront the situation, "you don't conceive the idea of death, because it's not something meant for you to experiment. You will never pass through the illness, your friends or family will never die, and you will never understand what is to perish in this agony" The discussion escalated quickly, reaching its end at the same peace. The things you said defined the end of this senseless conversation and for Nishimura Riki, your words didn't feel like stabs anymore, the heartache remained and his feelings got hurt, but this was the reality hit he needed.

"I know I'm being selfish…" As an abrupt act, he got on his knees desperately hugging your legs and clinging to the end of your dress, holding as if his endless life depended on it. "But I don't want you to die, please, let me help you… I c-can turn you into a vampire" Big tears ran away from his eyes, and the sobs impeded the words from coming out properly, "I know you don't want this, but please, please… I can't live without you…" you could notice a ramble was coming, about all the reasons you had to accept the proposal and how it would benefit all of you.

"How would you do that?..." your weak whisper could be hardly heard by your lover, whose ears were plagued by his cry.

The question made his body react, his head raised leaving its spot on your legs. "I can turn you into a vampire, I just need to bite you, we can do it right now if you want!" Riki rapidly got up, his hands holding your shoulders excited.

"But… What am I going to tell my parents?" The idea of becoming a vampire crossed your mind more than twice, all these thoughts generated by the presence of the youthful Nishimura who appeared in your life unexpectedly and changed the perspective of your life as a normal person in a small town.

"U-uhm… They don't have to know" he said, without giving it a second thought.

"Yes, it's a good idea because they are not going to notice that I'm not dying anymore, furthermore that I'm not getting old" Your sarcastic reply got him out of the fantasy cloud he had the opportunity to stay in for a few seconds.

"You're right, then… I will tell them! No parent wants to lose their daughter, and even if they are against the idea, we can run away together" Both pairs of hands connected, intertwining their fingers looking for more contact. "I have my family and my friends to help us! Jungwon was converted by Jay, it's secure to ask them about it"

The course of the actions being so sudden didn't help your already blurred mind, your disease has been part of you and your current life for most of it, always having hope about successfully evading the so-frightening called death, and the show up of your couple finished wrecking what lasted of your sanity. How could life be so cruel? Assembling two opposite individuals to fall into something so deep as love, the first one; was a vampire, a fortunate specimen blessed by nature, who didn't have to worry about the expected loss of life. And the second one; a poor human, the dangers of the surroundings being enough for such a weak personage.

Between your relationship was a line, an invisible border that could only be crossed by the weakest one and possibly now was about to fade.

"I don't want to die" Your lips dropped, maintaining that low tone you used before, full of fear and worry, "Let's do it, Riki"

And then, under the shadow of a big weeping willow, the connection between both bodies becomes stronger, your lips fused in an act of pure love after a few minutes of discussion that felt like an eternity.

When the sun went down and the secretive night welcomed everything that reached its perimeter, the figure of your loved one could be seen from your window, stealthily letting himself into your room.

"Psst, hey y/n, wake up" With light footsteps, he moved closer to your bed, where you lay comfortably while sleeping.

"Hm?" Your eyes opened slowly, trying to adapt to the nonexistent light in the space, "Riki? What are you doing here?" asked while changing your position, taking a seat on the mattress and patting softly on your side inviting him to do the same.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait anymore" Imitating your action he got comfortable on your side, talking with the lowest tone he could manage to, "I spoke with my mom about this, she was a little… concerned? But in the end, she permitted me to do it" said with his characteristic big smile. "I also talked with Jay and Jungwon, the conversion should be something easy, just a bite"

"Okay, we should do it now then?", you offered, "Mom and Dad, they… we can tell them later" Searching for contact in this moment of nerves, your hands reached his. His head nodded in response, "But wait!" your voice raised, luckily not enough to be noticeable by the other people in the house, "First, kiss me"

"Why? Do you need me that much?" The boy asked playfully, teasing you up a little bit.

"I want comfort, I'm about to be bitten you know? What if this turns out wrong and we can't kiss anymore? Of course, kissing is not the only problem, what if I die? Or end up defective? I may be immune-" a verbal vomit built by anxiety came out of your mouth, only being stopped by your boyfriend, who placed a peck on your lips.

"You don't have to worry, I'm not an idiot to do it wrong," said, with a jolly smirk and a bit of an "arrogant" manner, nothing new to see on the young Nishimura.

"Okay, let's do it…" With that the conversation ended and the so-called conversion ritual began.

Riki didn't want to bite your neck, not simply for being a pretty visible zone but also because he did not want to inflict you more pain than the one you're already passing through, evidently, something like sinking his teeth into her lover's skin wouldn't be painless, but if he can avoid generating her additional pain than the needed, that's okay. Your arm was grabbed so softly and delicately, the tact being so gentle that you could feel like he was holding a porcelain doll, both hands pressed smoothly in your extremity, finding the perfect spot.

"Should I count to three? Maybe it will help" suggested by pure courtesy, his body positioned and mouth near your upper limb waiting for you to give the green light.

"Please," you responded, accompanied by a few scared nods.

"One, tw-" and then, completely omitting the countdown he suggested, sank his fangs into your left arm, drilling your skin and releasing the poison.

You barely had any time to react to the puncturing pain of two deep needles piercing your skin, it hurt so much that you felt like you were burning, groans departing your mouth, such was the case that utilizing your free hand you had to seal your lips, and then, a huge wave slam your senses, sharpening every one of them; your ears? Possessed by an incessant whistle; your tact? It was overwhelming, even the slightest fold in your clothing could be felt; and probably the most shocking one, your vision; nothing could escape your new falcon view, small details on your walls that you hadn't noticed after years of living there were now extraordinarily detailed, the presence of tiny bugs hosting on the corners of your room is now detected, everything felt clearer.

By the time he was done, you had fallen into a trance, the venom running through your veins made your body temperature increase, and an unpleasant sensation spread to your teeth focusing on the fangs, implicating that the transformation already started and soon your hunger would awaken, and as an act of love between two vampires, he could ask you to kiss and bite him.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in April 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #61 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🌼 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

🌼 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics

(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 

🌼 In a swirl of flashing lights by @lunaticcat009

(M, 15k, friends to lovers) Harry taps on Louis' window with a sad smile and they sneak into a closed carnival. A starry night of them running around the abandoned premises with their fingers intertwined ensues.

🌼 Fuck You For Ruining New York City For Me by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 11k, exes) Louis broke up with him in their New York apartment, so Harry left the city for good. Except now he’s back, visiting with his new boyfriend.

🌼 defying stars by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 9k, high school) the marching band au only one person (and that was me) asked for.

🌼 Half a World Away by @silverstuff50

(E, 9k, omegaverse) Bothy: A bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge. Bothies are found in remote mountainous areas of Scotland, Northern England, Ulster and Wales. 

🌼 Where All Roads Lead by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(NR, 7k, neighbors) Harry's Christmas takes an unexpected turn when he discovers a misplaced holiday card in his letterbox. He never thought that braving the snow to return the card to its sender would be so worth his while.

🌼 Does it Ever Drive You Crazy? (Just How Fast the Night Changes) by xx_soup_xx

(G, 7k, strangers to lovers) Baker Harry Styles takes it upon himself to get his mysterious grumpy customer, Louis Tomlinson, to like Christmas by taking him on a disastrous first date.

🌼 Girl Crush by Hopeless_blue

(T, 7k, strangers to lovers) He used to be so close to fulfilling his dreams when he participated in X-Factor. But that was four years ago, and now, on a rainy day, he wanders the streets looking for a pub where he could sing sometimes. Charming bartender Louis is ready to give him a shot...

🌼 Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 6k, omegaverse) Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts

🌼 I Might Say Yes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, established relationship) the one where Harry buys a wedding dress on a whim. And his very doting boyfriend, Louis, is more than happy to indulge him

🌼 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 5k, 5 times fic) Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest.

🌼 Crimson Clover by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(T, 5k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are soulmates, but one is already promised to another. When their plan to flee is discovered and they are separated, Harry falls gravely ill.

🌼 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 2k, girl direction) Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

🌼 All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue

(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.

🌼 beech tree in autumn by @juliusschmidt

(E, 1k, summer romance) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree.

🌼 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 1k, omegaverse) The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.

🌼 skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.

- Rare Pairs -

🌼 Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence

(NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis) the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

🌼 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 3k, ot5) Zayn and Louis are soulmates. They're also missing some soulmates. For extra flavour, it's Christmas.

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 2

Part 1

Warnings:- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise: Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 11 more chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

“We’re done for today.” The large man reaches for his robes. You don’t bother to move. Just breathing hurt. It was his off day and he was deciding to break you in, deciding to keep you for however long you were durable. He was amused with your reactions. He liked it. He found it interesting how you were also trying to survive. He’d play along as your god now. 

You lay in the bed and his finger prints stained your skin, each strike created blots of purple and blue and green. You liked bruises before, it showed how you fought for it. 

You apparently woke up two days later, and he lets you rest. Your body finally turns off survival mode for a second, just a second to adjust to the warm room. Four walls, the nice smell, it was just another thing you weren’t used to. Stillness. It was boring. But under these circumstances you were glad to have your own padded room to deal with this.

The time you were left alone, you didn’t know how long that would be. Another hour or so you’d think he’d come back in, hearing as you’re up. Time for more torture, though do torture victims get a bed and tended to? It felt more like you were a sacrifice, meant to appease him, though no one handed you over. 

You were brushed, scrubbed raw, and even felt a bit of shame for the way you were living compared to the two ladies who were taking care of you. But you didn’t know how long they’ve been in this line of work. Hell they honestly looked like they were born into it with the cold looks in their eyes. They could care less about your well-being, though they found and scrubbed every inch of you. Of course you didn’t want strangers to look at you, especially after such a moment that brought you here. To be real, these twins are probably the only people who knew you more than anyone you currently knew. 

Friends? You had a few, some to help you out sometimes, some to let you crash at their place. It was all fair game to the people you knew. Life was never easy for them and they knew of you being a free spirit. You didn’t leech off of them for you’d always show up with something in exchange, usually something you stole but it would never get traced back, it was either too common (but useful) or just something that would never be brought out of shown off. 

You weren’t a bad friend for it, if anything you were the perfect guest, though this time you didn’t mean to give yourself away for a few nights stay.

“I gotta get out of here, but where would I go? These people have already seen my face and I can’t tell how many more there would be. I can’t request anything to learn the layout of this place and no one will talk to me. If I leave I’ll have to run further and faster than I already have been…” You ponder more, sitting at the table placed in front of the window. 

They’re smart enough to know what I’d do if I wanted to pick a fight with their lord, of course there are guards at more doors, even under the window out your room, and it’s safe to say that there’s even a guard at each vent that’s connected to your room. 

“Why does it seem like I’m so special?” You sit and open the window, the guard below moves from his post to observe you on the same side has the other posted to view you. You look down at then and offer a wave, saying you’re not doing anything stupid, but you just wanted some air. One of them leaves, probably to get Sukuna. 

“I bet he’s just a lonely loser and I just happen to fall into his lap, or maybe I was one of many and was the newest. The girls here looked like they could be in the same position as you, though why weren’t they? They didn’t look like they were his blood, and there was no way that he could be their dad. That would make things even worse since you’re close in age as the twins. 

You see the guard go back to his post, nonchalantly. “Weirdo.” You thought. Not even a second later your room door whips open. Jumping from your place at the table, you turn and see who other than the man with the unpredictable entrances. “Finally up?” He leans on the door frame. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic for that.” He teased, being strangely familiar to you.

“Dude…” You caught yourself about to tell off this stranger. All you’ve known from him is that he’s having fun taking you and making you a toy, that his name was Sukuna and how everyone seemed under his control. Not that they enjoy it, but it didn’t look like anyone, even in their numbers, would stand up to someone like him. 

It still wasn’t apparent for you. He only told you his first name, his last could tell you that you were in even more danger than any “normal” man doing this to you. It could be such a metaphor but you’re literally trapped in the best place you’ve ever been. Was that just life? all the bad comes up when you’re supposed to be happy, and realizing how good you’ve had it as it gets ripped apart in front of you? The balance of it all only comes with ignorance, which was also why you wouldn’t get attached. You didn’t run to one person for everything you didn’t need more than what you’d ask for and that wasn’t much. If they were lucky you’d be there for 3 days at most. 

You lost your voice, his presence set in, bringing you out of your (if you can all it that) relaxed state. He notices you tense up, the look in your eyes begging him to give your body a break. He huffs and saunters into the room, taking a seat at the end of the bed, the side that’s facing you. “You had some time to clear your head, now tell me what was your intention. Playing dumb suits that pretty face of yours… But that’s not why I’m here.”

You sure knew nothing about this guy. Other than his name and how his body looked. How he felt was different, it just happened so fast that you could only remember how it lingered in your belly after he left you the second time. It wasn’t something you can forget, those were the best orgasms of your life. “Sukuna… I’m serious.” 

“You expect me to believe that? Did I hit you too hard?” You almost wanted to laugh, you saw stars and colors you couldn’t before his knuckles contacted your skull. Lifting his hand from his side to place under his chin made you flinch, a bit too hard for his liking apparently.  It took a lot for you to muster standing up on your own, much less realize you had to get to the table by needing support from the wall. It was like you were in an ice skating rink and had to hold onto the walls for dear life, except there was no ice, it was just pain in your body not letting you level yourself out.

“When you’re ready to talk, I might hear you out. My patience is thin you already know.” He stands and closes your door, sent a shiver down your spine. Him not being close to you, or hurting you, having this quick visit was so unsettling. 

It haunted you for hours. He didn’t touch you. The edge of the bed where he sat still held an energy, like he left a part of him right there to keep watch over you. 

He definitely hit you too hard, you were thinking more outlandish things to go with this scenario. Like why didn’t the touch you? You thought he was going to keep a pattern, that maybe after this he would come in periodically to taunt you. That maybe his patience has worn out and he was going to get rid of you any minute now, or to use you again. 

The trauma you got from this certainly messed with your self soothing methods. Every time you catch yourself hitting your peak of your self imposed orgasms, you were almost wishing you had more than just your fingers. You didn’t want him, but seriously its already been 2 weeks. You were gonna go crazy in here. The girls kept bringing you your meals, and a bathroom is attached, though you couldn’t do much by yourself. 

You were to let the others feed and bathe you, and you honestly hated it. It was way too weird, you never talked to them, and they never tried with you so it felt like there was an agreement to just not speak about it. That none of you were here willingly. That gave you some insight. Your body healed itself enough that you didn’t need the wall to walk anymore, making your trips to the table in front of the window more frequent. 

You notice some sort of schedule Sukuna follows, as well as a few other noticeable men in this kind of gated community. Whatever he has gong on here, it felt like you were almost a stolen princess locked away in a tower or something. “You have GOT TO get a hold of yourself.” You didn’t need to see a doctor or someone, you were fully aware that these thoughts were just you daydreaming to escape reality, yet again. Though this time it was getting boring, you couldn’t help yourself, literally. 

At this point you wanted to even ask one of the guards if they wanted to come in and help you out, but you didn’t have to do that, because a day later you decided to act. Rolling around night time, you decided to open your window a noticeable amount. By then the guards usually leave one guard to patrol the grounds in each quarter. 

The ones outside your door either end up sleeping or one leaves the other for a bathroom break, some nights they both go, probably to blow each other you thought. It wasn’t any of your concern, they did it before when you could barely move, but now you were agile again, enough to move around without hissing at each moment.

 Placing your ear to the door, you heard light snoring through it. “Okay, just find his room you thought. You knew that it took about 60 steps to reach a stair case, then that would be about 24 steps down. You could hear his footsteps through the pairs of others who followed him, as his echoed with pace, and the others almost scuttled behind them like bugs.. 

You find your way slipping past heavy wooden doors, making sure it wouldn’t creak, you saw the walkway in the garden. You looked up and saw your room, you knew it was yours as it was the only one with the window open. you knew that the guard just left this fourth of his grounds. You were searching the area for his room. Peering through the windows, it would have been hard to tell if it was him, but his tattoos were honestly unique. 

None of them were him, you go back to the walkway, going down the opposite end, just blindly working your way through. You couldn’t just walk through any door, it could be your last mistake, it being Sukuna or not. But it just had to be him, you wanted so badly to find his familiar face and just, you don’t know. 

You decide to be more ballsy, there’s surely no way he’s be in the same quarters that has this many people,” you decide to take your chance with the left corridor. “I wouldn’t take him for a cuddly guy anyway.” 

Listen, you know it sounds crazy, but if you even got to escape, you’d be hunted like a fox, unnecessarily, and as a spectacle for others to watch. But if you could find him, and do it yourself, “I mean, at least I’d die with something, and what a funny way to go.” You loved to joke about these kinds of things. Anytime it seemed dark, you’d find yourself cracking a joke or going off an other tangents from the barrage of thoughts coming your way.

You hold your breath as you set your fingers around the doorknob, you pull it back slowly, and turn it, to silence any squeaks it may have. After turning it fully, you let it go back and unclenched your fingers to let it go a second time, making sure there was no noise from the metal trap, and decided to go in. 

What fucking luck you had as if you broke into another room you’d think your breathing would start to give you away. As you head towards the bed, the raising figure laying there was him. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark, so much so that you could just stand in front of him. 

Looking down at him you wondered what you should do. You’re not going to kill him, that’s one thing, though you had nothing to lose, you still liked your life and you enjoyed whatever adventurous you got yourself into. It was always just one thing after the next and you’d rest when needed, but you loved it. 

This was totally different though. Before it was like you were born into this work and have to abide by its rules. As of right now you could do /anything/. What else would you do? 

You look down at him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to face him. Looking at his face like this, completely defenseless, his harsh eyes weren’t poking at you or telling you exactly what he was thinking. No he was just, he looked human. Like if you were to have met him at any other place it would possibly be on a magazine cover or an army recruitment booth posted wherever. 

“Damn bastard is beautiful.” You thought. “I didn’t get this far to stop now. Fucking 2 weeks you keep me here and don’t do anything? Do you know how boring that is? You can’t just keep me here and forget.” All that time alone had gone to your head, did you forget how he treated you the time you met? 

Tbh it fades in and out, your memory’s cut up pieces of film that randomly plays an old memory, and since you can’t recognize it, you call it a dream. 

Nothing could take you away from where you were now. Looking over him, still not a care in the world. Nothing could wake him if he’d allow it. You cocked your head to align your eyes with his, and reach out and brush your fingertips across his jawline. 

How much of this could you enjoy before he kills you for breaking out? Just that thought had you slowly leaning in, your hand before tracing his face was leaning onto the bed to support your intrusion. 

First, you kissed his forehead. The poor fuck probably hadn’t felt the touch of a real lover in ages, he just finds and uses whatever and whoever he wants, whenever. Of course you didn’t pity him, but does he even know what being loved properly was like? You’re really one to be asking. 

You peck the smooth, hot skin, and kissed a line across his cheek, getting more sensual with the next. His touch, even sleeping was still so manly. His body was so, honestly the words seem odd, but he looked so edible. Like you almost couldn’t keep your lips off of him. He was so yummy when you get a good look at him. 

Cupping his face, your lips reach his, beginning to lightly stimulate the connection. You lean in further, applying yourself onto him, guiding open his mouth with yours as you lick his lips. This shit was getting you so excited, considering all that he’s done to you, having this moment, where you’re in control and he was at your mercy, and only you know this.

Continuing to make out with your kidnapper, you moved yourself to get on top of him. His lazy reaction of kissing back had you think he was a deep sleeper, god you really wished. 

You opened your eyes just to make sure he was still asleep, but his eyes were staring back at you, with the same look he always has. You didn’t have time to even make a sound before he had you under him. His hand grabbed your waist and turned kept you parallel to him as his leg pushed his body to get on top.��

You could feel his erection, he was basically stabbing your thighs with his head. His hands pushed your wrists into opposite sides of your head, and he has you immobilized as he sat on your legs. Most you could move was your toes and neck, but he had pressed his face up against yours. 

“I don’t even know where to start with you. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already. Maybe I can believe you’re just some random, …but you wouldn’t have come to my room.” He lets a wrist go to reel back and strikes your face as a warning. Seriously, no sane person would just come straight back to him in your situation.

“The guard fell asleep?” Nothing gets by him. You can’t tell if he was just prepared for everything or if he planned this out. The excitement you were feeling before was being clashed with the sudden shock to your face. “Depending how the rest of the night will go will determine his punishment.” 

Keeping everything in place, he moves your chin up by his nose, giving him space to start attacking your neck. “We’ll just start with yours.” His grasp tightened around each wrist, so much so that he was pulling on the tendons in your forearms, making your fingers involuntary curl. 

Your luck may have run out, but you weren’t as scared. Trying to enjoy the moment as much as possible, knowing fully well that you’re about to be eaten alive, and god, youve been waiting. His teeth grazed your collar bone, making their way back up, making themselves a known threat to your neck. 

“Speak.” He orders. “Who sent you?” 

“You still think I’m a spy?” The spot where he hit you was pounding, but it didn’t hurt. Other parts of your body were just pulsating along with your heartbeat, you knew he was going to take that as a sign of fear. 

“Hurry up, we have a meeting tomorrow so I’m trying to be considerate for everyone else.” 

He’s still not listening. You weren’t either at this point, finding his roughing up sort of endearing. Maybe he didn’t want to get blood on his bed, or maybe he did care about that stupid meeting. All you could feel was vigorous pulsating from your wrists, your face, your heart, and more than anything else, your pussy. 

This was literally what you came here to do, this was why he even took you with him wasn’t it? Seriously whatever big shot he thinks he is… this shit wasn’t legal; You were serious on going out with a bang, raising your hips to create some friction on his hard on. 

Sukuna seemed to notice the look in your eyes and gave you another firm slap. “Focus, doll.” He adjusts his hips a few inches too far down your liking, his hands being the only thing touching you. 

“Put it back.” You got this far, now he wants to start questioning you immediately after waking up? He picked you up after meeting and ignored you for two weeks, you’re about to do what most others would. Especially if they’re in the same situation with the same circumstances.

“You’re not the one to be giving orders, much less to me.” 

You raise your hips back up to his head, having it dip into you, crossing your clit but unable to enter fully. His tip could find its way in no problem, it was just his call, and that almost drove him over the edge. You’ve stopped fighting back, for something like your freedom and what’s better for you. 

What you were after now was just one more orgasm brought by that monstrous mf. He doesn’t drop his guard, or change his face at all as he accepted “your bait/distraction”. In this position, you’re still straight legged, laying in his bed as he has you held down, arms pinned, palms up, and legs trapped as he sat on your thighs. 

He could easily kill you now, but it would honestly leave a bad taste as no one’s been killed in his room before, much less even entered without permission. You both didn’t know what to think really. 

To you he’s some strange and strong asshole who’s been unclear if you were his sex toy or if you were “invited” and he was just being a terrible host. Honestly, it felt worse to you to have everything you needed; Without your freedom, you were honestly thinking it’d be better to be dead. 

To him, you were dangerous. You got it all right. From the room, to the person to bump into, to the alley. You could have been a spy laying low, from whichever gang he thought you were from, he thought it would be good to hold you off to send a message to see who would come collect you first. They wouldn’t send someone if they didn’t have something to say. 

At first he did just want to keep you until one of them sent them back another message. It didn’t matter what happened to you, honestly he got bored. He’s a busy man, there was really nothing else to say. 

So imagine his surprise how you came crawling all over him tonight. He knew an assassin would’ve done it before he even knew the door opened, they were to make sure it was quick. The attack would have had to been fatal, whether they succeed in one shot or have them die as they’re leaving. And how quick they leave is how desperately they want to live. 

You, just came in to stare at him and decided you wanted something else. And it didn’t seem like revenge. That was a first, especially for him. Right now he was allowing it, letting you go. There was no way you could harm him, he concluded. 

Looking down at you squirm and pout, upset on how close you were to getting what you’ve been aching from and for. He won’t drop his guard, but he sure as hell was silver platter served. Really how badly did you want it?

He connects your wrists at the top of your head with one hand, the other has its index finger and thumb at the base, controlling himself with those two fingers. He raises his erection and knocked it against your clit, the strikes sent waves of pleasure from your core to the top of your head and palm of your feet, having you whimper out. 

Your aching hole needed him, it was taking him so long. Seriously you wish he’d kill you now because this so actually torture. The only thing you could do was start to cry, tears leaving their corners and running into your hair. You were more than frustrated. Angry, horny, needy, powerless, you wanted it so bad you were losing control, it didn’t matter, no one else could judge you, and who would be worse than Sukuna?

“You came in here, climb all over me, just to cry now? You’re so pathetic.” 

“Please,” You whine. “I want you to put it in.”

His face changed, from laughing at you beg, to sharpening his focus. Even after all this, getting caught, threatened, insulted, you’ve started to beg for it. He takes his legs up from pinning yours, putting them to your sides as he aligns himself to your front hole. “Say it again.”

“Please Sukuna, put it in-“ He lowers his hips and dives deep into you. He watches as your head writhes. Instantly youre spread apart, the sudden plunge casted a warm blush across your face and electricity towards the tips of your fingers. “Oooh,” 

“Fuuuuuck.” He finished for you. He continues to grind deeply into you, quickly using his now free hand to gag you from waking everyone up. Good thing too as you were messy, fucked silly couldn’t cover it. You gave up control a long time ago. He wouldn’t kill you, not right now anyway, you especially wouldn’t let him without trying to get one last nut. It was diabolical how down bad he had you. It was more of your unhealed trauma and he just happened to be the best person to help you out, willing or not.

——————————————————————————

You lay there as the base of your back ached. Every part of your body was bruised again, you could only imagine to move again as you tried catching your breath. You had lost count on just how many times he’s forced an orgasm out of you, mind numbingly rich euphoria every time. Nothing else mattered, you were more than thrilled the first 2 times but started to wonder if he ever got tired. 

It wasn’t until after your fifth orgasm that he managed to get his first one in. You were honestly almost regretting climbing into his room but his second had him pinning you on your back as he lay on your lower torso and legs. You couldn’t feel anything but your pulsating cervix, half feeling good from the pain and lingering pleasure, the other half making you know that this was a mistake and the nausea was on you. 

Raising your free arm, you weakly start to pat his head. It was over, you insatiable perverted needs were fulfilled, so what were you going to do now? It’s not like you’re in love with the guy, you don’t even know if you’ll get to wake up tomorrow with this stunt. “It was worth it.” You thought. Running your fingers thorough his hair, and tracing his back, you fall asleep holding him, accepting that this is it.

[jalluzas-ferney]

Soooo….I made some nationality headcannons! At first I was a liiittle bit unsure if to do so cuz then again.. they live in ninjago…. And im pretty sure countries like argentina or Morocco don’t quite exist in the ninjago universe LMAO. Butttttt. Already seen others make headcannons, so hell, why not? I uses they apply to some irl au or what if they lived in our world uk? And what different countries would I see them coming from and etc.

I can imagine that the EM might have travelled all over the world, either to go into hiding, or missions, or escape conflict, etc. Or maybe simply that’s where they came from! So yeah that’s my little explanation that is mostly for myself cuz im a little bit too literal sometimes lol.

When thinking about nationality I always think a lot about where they grew up and what nationality they grew up with and would later on identify with the most. It’s a complicated concept when your parents are from a different nationality and theyre immigrants in a different country- so you grow up in this country, surrounded by this culture and people, but your. Also. Raised by your parents who also have your family living in this completely different country- where you also find home and relate to the people considering how you look, the language you speak with your parents- or the specific culture and environment your parents grew up wiooith, impacting your home life and the way your raised. Perhaps you lived in both places, or travel a lot to your parents homeland. Perhaps you live in one of your parents countries but the other. Not. but you still identify with one of your parents nationality because of the rest of your family from that side and the culture your take in from them. So it’s always very personal! So for Kai and Nya, I imagined that ray was Argentinian and Maya Filipino. And perhaps - because I want to project onto my faves- they were born and grew up in Argentina. But have always also identified a lot with their mothers homeland, since not only does their race impact the way they might feel more different and set apart from kids there, maya loves talking about her childhood in the Philippines and is always talking over the phone with their aunts and cousins, meaning Kai and Nya def were taught some Tagalog, tho theyre not incredibly fluid with it. In their early teens they probably travelled to the Philippines, (took ray and maya some time to settle down and get enough money to travel, as well as find time) and met their whole family, and the place they reside in, habit that would turn quite common as they would continue to travel other times the following years.

For Lloyd, I really wanted to make him Asian -Brazilian. It just felt right. So imagined that my queen (don’t you judge her >:() Misako would be Brazilian, meanwhile Garmadon,Japanese. i imagine that Misako adores traveling, so she met Garmadon on her trip to Japan, and decided to stay there for a WHILE because of the brothers. During her time there, she had Lloyd. Since her family heard of her new baby, she travelled back to Brazil with a two y/o Lloyd to have her family meet the him and catch up overall. but as the serpentine wars rose In japan (ill hc it happened in japan let me know what u think of that) Misako was told to wait in Brazil. Misako didn’t really like that though, and while she dreaded having to leave her son, she was sure shed come back soon after helping out the Brothers in the battle against the serpentine. So Lloyd was left to live with his aunties and grandparents in Brazil. Of course, after Misako found out about the whole Green Ninja thing and all that crap, she pulled the same stunt as in the series and ✨ vanished ✨. But then Garmadon came and fucking took him like divorced parents sometimes do uk? So then he spent some other of his childhood years growing up in, ya guessed it, Japan. This is how Lloyd identifies both with being a Brazilian and Japanese. As for the rest, I just envision that they lived in their respective countries their whole lives till they were recruited!

[shadowlali]

you're not here

COD AU - Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra x fem!reader

[18+] summary: Rudy tries, but he can't move on from you. wc: ~780 part II | masterlist | AO3

warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, some proofreading, original character introduced, angst, Rudy has sex with someone else while thinking about reader, protected sex, illusions to oral (with f!reader)

a/n: Soooo, yeah. Rudy angst. Please heed the warnings as Rudy and reader are not together and Rudy will be with another woman in this. Sorry but this idea came to me today and I needed to write it!

Her hand trails up the thick expanse of his thigh until it lands on the bugle between his legs. Rudy grips her hand, keeping it there, looking into her eyes as her pupils slowly dilate. She keeps talking, flirting with him, slowly indicating that she wants him to take her back to his place. And he will, he always does. 

Fernanda is the sister of one of the Vaqueros, so he probably shouldn’t bring her back to his place. But he’s been through so many women in Las Almas that he’s becoming desperate. All to forget you. The sound of your laughter, the color of your eyes, the scent of your skin. 

As he leads her to his truck, he wonders why he’s so cruel to these women. He wants to show them the respect they deserve, doesn’t want to look into their eyes or look at the shape of their lips and compare them to yours. He wants to enjoy their company and be romantic, intimate, but no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts always come back to you. 

“Come on, Rudy,” Fernanda whines. 

He finishes unlocking the door to his home, jolted out of his thoughts by Fernanda’s touch. 

“Will you be here with me? Tonight, at least?” 

Rudy raises his eyebrow in confusion at her question. “What do you mean?” 

“I know about her. I can help you forget,” she says, sliding her hands up his chest, “she doesn’t deserve you.” 

“Don’t,” Rudy spits out, gripping her elbows in the palm of his hands, “don’t talk about her.” 

“She left you–” 

Rudy doesn’t let her finish, instead he slides his fingers through her hair and tugs her to him, pressing his mouth to hers in a rough kiss. He doesn’t want to hear anyone speak ill of you. He tugs down the straps of her dress and swallows her moans. 

He tries to stay in the moment, to focus on her whimpers of pleasure and the softness of her skin, not as soft as yours. Rudy leads her to the couch, not his room, never his room. He won’t have anyone else on his bed. In just a few minutes they’re stripped bare and she lays across the couch with her legs spread. 

Rudy quickly slips on a condom and grasps his cock, giving it a few tugs, trying to push the memories of your naked body out of his head and instead look at her’s, Fernanda, who is here with him. But the image of you in a pretty yellow sundress crosses his mind. The last night you visited his home, where by the end your thighs squeezed his head and he happily almost drowned in the wetness of your cunt. 

It works to get him fully hard. Rudy slides in and grips her thigh, keeping his eyes closed so he can pathetically imagine it's you, even if you feel nothing like her. You probably don’t even remember him at this point, probably have already found someone new. 

“Rudy, I–I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, “I can’t live like this.” 

Wet tears slid down the apples of your cheeks. 

“You knew, mi vida. I told you and you agreed!” Rudy shouted back.

“I tried so hard to understand and to be strong for you but–but, you can’t be angry at me for being scared!” 

“You don’t need to be scared–” 

“Rudy, you almost died! And you acted like I was crazy for crying!” 

“Because you’re acting crazy–” 

“No. We’re done. We’re done, Rudy.” 

Rudy pulls out of Fernanda, having her flip around so she’s on her knees. He thrusts back in for a few more strokes, makes sure she finishes, then pulls out again. His erection deflates and he can’t even find it in himself to be angry that he can’t cum. He pretends that he does, groaning her name then quickly standing to slip off the condom in the bathroom. 

He opens the passenger door and helps her hop down. 

“Do you want to come in?” Fernanda asks, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. 

“No, I have an early morning tomorrow.” 

And he does, he’s not lying for once. 

“Call me, okay? Tonight was fun,” Fernanda says as she kisses him goodbye. 

Rudy waits until he hears her door lock and walks back to his truck. Another failed attempt at scrubbing your memory away. He wonders if this will be his life forever.

He unlocks his phone and hovers over your name in his contact list. In a bout of desperation, Rudy clicks on your name as he drives home, bringing it up to his ear as it rings. He hopes you’ll answer. 

-

Story and title inspired by the song "Laura no està" by Nek.

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 22/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE

CHAPTER TWENTYTWO

                They’re silent with one another and Jake doesn’t know how to break the quiet. Doesn’t particularly want to break the quiet, not to rake through his relationship history, although he knows it’s a topic usually covered during a date. Except all their dates have either been around his parent’s dining room table, or in the barn, which definitely wasn’t conducive to conversation. He looks up from where he’s leaving his boots to see Bradley stripping off his shirt, but then pulling on a loose soft-looking shirt.

                “Wh – what are you doing?”

                “Changing into something more comfortable. Figure if I’m going to feel uncomfortable internally the least I can do is be comfortable externally.”

                “Oh. Huh. Okay.”

                “Feel free to join me, looks like you’ve got more clothes here now…”

                Bradley then proceeds to shut the blinds, casting the entire space into a dim half-light, the setting sun making it feel warm and Jake strips down to his underwear, not really wanting to put anything else on and he’s comfortable in his own skin.

                “This okay?”

                “Yeah, of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with… Come here…”

                He crawls into bed, let’s Bradley wrap his arms around him, body pressing along the length of his back and legs.

                “Figure it might be easier to not be looking at each other for this.”

                Jake’s stomach squirms with unease.

                “That bad?”

                “No. Not really. I don’t have a dark shady past, or a pile of angry exes. I do have… well. One isn’t even a relationship, but it’s definitely the reason Pete jumped on a plane. Then there’s a very ill-advised relationship, which probably doesn’t help the whole thing, but they’re both over ten years ago. Pete is just… overly dramatic.”

                “Oh.”

                “You want me to just lay it all out?”

                “Yeah, like ripping off a Band-Aid right? You said that we should talk. About what has Pete and Tom flying out here. About… why my mom thinks she needs to play matchmaker.”

                He can feel Bradley’s breath, warm against his neck, forces himself to relax, that this is a sharing of information, that neither of them are looking for reasons to not be together, just maybe, hopefully, understand each other’s families a little better, because apparently they each have their own brand of crazy.

                “So… interesting that your mum wants to play matchmaker, because the two times Pete tried to match me with people it ended in divorce and a restraining order respectively.”

                “What the fuck?” Jake asks, trying to twist to look Bradley in the eye, see if he’s joking, but Bradley is holding him tight, throwing a leg over Jake’s thighs and he realizes he’s effectively being pinned. Knowing Bradley he’s probably got a fucking black belt in some obscure martial art. He forces himself to relax.

                “So, what? Do they think you need protecting? From me?”

                “No. Just… Pete matched me with both people and it ended in disaster. So despite him joking about third time lucky, he hasn’t ever tried again. Gone too hard in the other direction. He second guesses when he thinks someone might be good for me. The fact that he didn’t ever try and introduce us when he was working with you, that he brought Tom to meet you… that’s him second guessing the fact that he likes you.”

                “Tell me what happened?”

                “So,” Bradley sucks in a big breath and he feels it brush past his neck and he shivers involuntarily. “Obviously if I’m divorced I’ve been married before.” Jake doesn’t bother saying anything, figures Bradley is trying to get his thoughts in order.       “He, Pete, introduced me to my ex-wife, which, is something of a mindfuck to have to explain when you figure out you’re gay. It was very short-lived. Like. A couple of days. I was young. Nineteen. It was in Vegas, which is a cliché, but she thought she could make a quick jump into Hollywood when she found out exactly who Pete and Tom were to me. We could have been friends probably, but she just went a little… power hungry. Um. She drugged me. Needless to say I ended up pressing criminal charges and getting an annulment.”

                “Oh shit,” Jake says, because he’s starting to feel like his dating history is nothing compared with this. It actually makes him feel a little better.

                “I mean, hindsight is great, I did nothing wrong, but… this happened over fifteen years ago. I got therapy. Pete didn’t, but probably should have. Then I figured some shit out, came out, and then Pete introduced me to someone else…”

                Silence pools between them and Jake waits, feels Bradley shift against him slightly and the softest of kisses pressed between his neck and shoulder.             

                “The second person, a guy, he was a little controlling… Ugh. He was emotionally abusive. I was still young, didn’t really think his requests were too much. Until they started to be. Again, Pete had introduced us. I thought it was normal. It’s not like I grew up seeing a lot of healthy balanced relationships, but I did eventually figure out it wasn’t right. Anyway. Broke up with him, he tried to become even more controlling and hence the restraining order. He lives in New York now, and Tom made his life very difficult before that move. So… I took a break from dating, or any relationships, for about two years.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yep. Since then I’ve had three relationships, two of those were good and ended amicably and I’m still friendly with them. The other didn’t end so well, they cheated on me. I’m away for work a lot apparently. Anyway, guess which one of those three Pete liked the most?”

                “The cheater,” Jake sighs, not sure who to feel worse for.

                “Yep. Three for three. So… yeah. Pete’s happy for me. But he’ll also be second guessing everything he’s ever thought about you. So try not to take it too personally if he blows hot and cold for a while.”

                “Oh. Tom said something earlier… about hearing a lot about me from Pete.”

                “Yeah, that’s probably right.” Jake hums under his breath, not sure what to think. He’s only been with Bradley a matter of days. “Tom will make up his own mind. But yeah, there you go… once Pete comes to grips with the fact that him liking my boyfriend doesn’t end up cursing the relationship he’ll be fine.”

                Jake can’t help the snort of amusement.

                “God that is so dramatic.”

“Well, takes one to know one right?”

                “Hey!” Jake objects, and he can feel Bradley’s smile against his shoulder, his body shaking with quiet laughter, and god it feels good, despite the seriousness of the conversation, to still be close and laughing together. “I get family wanting to protect you though.”

                “Hmm. See I think of it as family not trusting me to make my own decisions. Everything else was so long ago.”

                “I guess. Nice to know they care about you so much they drop everything and fly across the country to double check anyway.”

                “Dramatic,” Bradley says, voice deadpan and Jake laughs, but his gut is churning, knows it’s his turn now to share the details of his own past failed relationships and he doesn’t have people wanting to use him and his connections, or control him or even people that have cheated on him… He’s just failed every single one of them in different ways and he doesn’t want to fail Bradley.

                “You okay?” Bradley asks, his voice a whisper against the shell of his ear and Jake just wants to curl in upon himself and hide away for a bit longer.

                “I… I’m not good at relationships.”

                “What makes you think that?”

                “I’m just, I’m not good enough,” Jake says, and he thinks Bradley was right in doing this with the blinds pulled, no lights, the darkness slowly covering them like a quiet blanket and allowing them to feel less exposed. “I thought I’d found my person. You know when you think you’ve found them and you plan your life out, and then… it’s all pulled out from under you?”

                Bradley doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, just hums encouragingly and hugs him a little tighter and he takes a couple of slow deep breaths.

                “My high school girlfriend left me. We’d been together for eight years. Said she didn’t sign up to be famous. Didn’t want to have to deal with the hate mail, or the fans… It was horrible. She was a big part of my life. My family loved her. I’d picked out a ring. So yeah, the pressure and attention, it was just too much for her. And I thought, okay, I’ll date people who are also in the public eye, but…”

                “You’re a country boy at heart.”

                Jake laughs but doesn’t disagree.

                “I’m not… I.” Jake pauses. “I’m not used to being the more interested party. Person. I’m used to people asking me out.”

                “Pretty sure we asked each other out…”

                “Is that what we’re calling it?” Jake asks, feels Bradley give him another squeeze and he smiles into the dark, presses back against his body and squeezes his forearm where it rests across his stomach.

                “Yep, definitely reciprocal asking each other out. Anyone else you want to tell me about?”

                He sighs, because there are only two others, anyone that he didn’t bring back to meet his parents isn’t worth mentioning. Wasn’t around long enough for Jake to feel emotionally invested enough to bring them home to meet his family and see where he grew up. It’s dawning on him that he’s sort of done things a bit backwards with Bradley, and that might be the best thing he’s ever done.

                “I dated Gabriel for three years. He was great. Lovely and sweet. He wasn’t ashamed of being with me. Our life together in Hollywood was great. We had a lot of similar interests and our friend circles overlapped. He met my family and it was fine. Then we came home to visit, he seemed to like it here; couldn’t ride, but that was okay. I don’t care about that, even if my mom seems to think it’s a prerequisite. He was learning, wanted to learn. What wasn’t okay was every time my parents or one of my siblings would walk in on us, he’d jump away from me, like he wasn’t allowed to touch me without their permission. Even if we were just sitting side by side.”

                “What?”

                “I know. It was fine when we were around friends, in LA, but he just got so keyed up around my family. So the visit home was the beginning of the end and he broke up with me about six months after.”

                “That sounds like a him problem, if he had issues being affectionate with you in front of your family. It’s not your fault.”

                “I know.”

                “Do you?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “It wasn’t on you to fix his issues. Did you talk to him about it?”

                “I tried,” Jake says. “I tried to not let it bother me as well.”

                “Did he try?”

                Jake is about to say yes, of course, but then thinks about it, because Gabriel hadn’t been one to face his own flaws or consider self-improvement, unless it would have made him look better. They’d left the ranch early to return to LA, cutting their vacation short, but Gabriel had made a comment about it not being much of a vacation anyway.

                “No… I guess he didn’t.”

                “His loss,” Bradley says, whispers and Jake swallows against the welling up emotion, because he doesn’t feel like he’s a treasure worth keeping, not usually, but Bradley is definitely making him think that maybe he is.

                “Then there’s Alicia. My last girlfriend. She is terrified of horses, hated seeing me ride. My mom was glad to see the back of her. She never said she didn’t like her, but she was always so polite it was almost frosty with it.”

                “Huh.”

                “Yeah. She made you do the dishes. That was her way of subtly screaming that she already considers you family.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah.”

                “Your parents were checking I was up to scratch…”

                “Yeah. Apparently. Mom doesn’t like the glossy façade people put on in LA. Dad even less so. They both like you.”

                “Jake… did you plan this whole movie just so you could get me to meet your family and ask me out?”

                “No!”

                “I mean, I’m okay with it if you did. It’s one hell of a gesture.”

                “No. I didn’t. Not consciously, anyway,” Jake mutters.

                “Well, either way, I’m here and I like it. Especially with you.”

                “Yeah. Feels too good to be true though doesn’t it? A little bit?”

                “Nope. There’s enough bad shit going on that I don’t need to go second guessing what feels like something good. Something amazing.”

                “Oh,” Jake says to the room, the word quiet on his exhale and he feels Bradley’s arm tighten around him again.

                “I am going to tell you every day that you’re too good to be true until you believe me…”

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah. I can be very persuasive.”

                “I bet you can,” Jake says, and this time when he tries to turn to face Bradley he’s allowed to shift, face him and take his lips with his own until he can no longer tell where his body ends and Bradley’s begins.

TWENTYTHREE

[the-s1lly-corner]

Caine and kinger x reader with ADHD

Caine and Kinger x reader w/ ADHD

yahoo!! gonna knock out some requests today !! this is gonna be based off of my own experiences btw !! not much else i can think to put in this authors note so! ill just get on with it note from the future, little longer than i intended but thats mostly because admin started relating TOO much wuh-oh

CAINE:

caine is honestly really good about keeping you on track when theres a task at hand. i dont know about you, but i tend to wander about when im working on something; to check on something else repeatedly then coming back to what needs to be done and just go back and forth.(shit im even doing it now, the getting up and checking on things thing even though i know the thing is fine/complete) i like to think that caine would be pretty okay at making sure you get the thing you need/want to do done! i dont think theres meds in the digital world, i mean yeah sure you can ask for them but since theyre digital theyre not going to actually. do anything. but lets say in a hypothetical au where this all takes place in the real world and caine is a real person, he would make sure you take them consistently and on time. honestly this hc isnt really part of the ask but; i generally like to think that caine likes to follow routines and schedules as closely as he can... maybe its the ringmaster thing since hes tasked with keeping everything running but... shrugs

very supportive when you make a small mistake in something (like this is just a general thing, though) and isnt too obnoxious with trying to hold or regain your attention is something happens to the side and steals it away. very patient and polite with it, i think

last minute addition because it hit me like a sack of bricks. time blindness. fucking time blindness. you know how i mentioned that caine is good at keeping you on track? i think he would be good with helping you out with that, at least some of it. mostly logging your activities and him keeping an eye on the time (which he already does so its not like an extra habit he needs to pick up.. though if it werent he would pick it up in a heartbeat. literally anything for you, he loves you a lot)

KINGER:

honestly he might start to mimic your stims and fidgets! he doesnt mean to mock you, no i just think he would start to reflect your actions after spending most of his time around you to make sure you're okay! while caine keeps you on track, kinger is likely to go with you when you wander off to check/do something else. really unless its something time sensitive or really important is when hes going to start outwardly reassuring you that the other thing is fine. honestly, in an au with the real world i was originally going to say he would have a chance of forgetting to help remind you/ask if you took your meds (if you take them) but i think he would take stuff like that way too seriously to even DARE forget. like yeah sure you're not going to d1e if you forget to take them for a single day but still. he'd probably be like this with any meds tbh, so if you're prone to forgetting youll be fine as long as you have kinger around! gibes you pillows for fidget stuff, if you are feeling restless. or perhaps even goes on a walk with you around the circus grounds. like idk about yall, or if this is something completely unrelated, but my legs HURT when i sit too still. like down to the bone, if i dont get up every now and then its agony; sleeping is hell and on days its worse than others (like im talking sometimes i need to be in near constant movement) (also jerky arms and legs) (anyways)

also very polite with returning your attention to where it needs to be but honestly given that kinger himself is shown to space out at least twice in the pilot i think sometimes you guys both get side tracked and struggle to remember and/or get back into the flow of what you were originally doing

ponders

tldr; caine keeps you more on track with schedules whereas kinger embraces your flow a little more but both are respectful of things and dont really make you feel less than + remind you to take care of yourself

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Part one of "Some interesting devil fruit abilities for reader to have in the pirate au" (from someone who's never seen one piece so bear with me)

I'm not a native English speaker so these may have some mistakes in them, sorry!

Also, this particular pirate au was created by @mega-punani! Thank you for creating characters I can rotate in my head like popcorn in a microwave xx

I present to you: Pocket docter!!

Devil fruit: Tiny fruit

Reader can get tiny at will!

Thats it.

:)

...Well, okay, they have some outfits that shrink with them, and possibly some jewelry and stuff they keep on them at all times, like a little healing kit! Outfits that don't fit or they don't consider theirs wont shrink or grow with them. Embarrassing!

Probably a little salty that they gave up their ability to swim in the ocean for this... regardless of having had a choice in the matter. Its not a flashy cool power but it sure can be useful!

They can make really specialized tiny tools, get very specific parts of plants and other remedies for illnesses, and they can treat delicate wounds with extreme precision if needed! The tiniest needle and thread known to man is at their disposal.

This power could have reader in fight scenes but in someones pocket, passed around to heal during battle (a little risky but that's fun!) or captured by an enemy and then suddenly be gone (if there's no sea prism stones used ofc).

Not to mention some interesting interactions with the boys!

Sans put his hat on your head while you were tiny and laughed his head off-- its a pretty goofy sight and you're struggling to keep it near you against the wind. You still insist it looked better on you than it does on him and he kind of agrees.

You end up sewing teeny tiny little things into his hat whenever you end up trapped under there. Little stars and shapes, puns, messages... You've assured him you can easily remove them but he loves it. At some point he offers it as a makeshift bed for you if you ever need it, having added a tiny pillow and letting you use the scarf as a blanket. The sight of you asleep in his hat on his nightstand endears him to no end.

Dang hes already tall but Papyrus really dwarfs you huh? He will encourage you to not feel bad or less than others for being absolutely tiny!! --even if your normal form is about average or even tall. Everyone is small compared to him and he's truly nice about it so you forgive him for it.

I feel like he might accidentally forget you in the crows nest and then frantically get the crew looking for you while you're just chilling up there. He didn't forget to put your safety first up there so you've got a lovely view to enjoy!

(Hes no longer the shortest let's GOOOOO-)

Alright so Blue is the most dangerous man to be around out of all of them. Not out of malice of course! Hes just very strong and very energetic, and where Papyrus might punctuate his extravagant poses with acrobatics, Blue does so with his unbridled strength! Which meaaaans he might grip you just a little tight when picking you up, or that he'll forget you're near him while moves around, sweeping your feet out from under you. He definitely learns with time, but you're having much more fun being carried around while at your normal size.

You've pranked Stretch by pretending to be a rat a couple of times, scuttling from under a table or jumping at him suddenly because you are very funny! And also because he was trying to ignore your presence on the ship at first. What better ways to get along than to prank and bother him relentlessly until he talks to you? Unfortunately for his pride, it works, and the pranking turns into lighthearted inside jokes instead. He wont admit it, but hes much less jumpy at the sight of wandering mice and rats now...

I also think Stretch has some of the softest clothes on the ship, and that on some cold days, you can snooze in his hood/scarf while he plays some gentle tunes. Its a very relaxing time for both of you.

Red thinks you're so, so cute... now how can he convey this to you without sounding condescending?

Through trial and error of course! You can yell at him that hes being mean and he'll think its hot, but he will genuinely tweak his approach to you a bit. He'll call you kitten, but if you say you feel he's not taking you seriously when you're small he'll only say it when you're regular sized. Hell he'll call you boss or sir/lady if that's the only thing you can tolerate. And also because that's funny as hell.

You asked to help him with hard to reach nooks and crannies on the ship and its really bonding for you both. He will always check/clean whatever spot you need to reach a bit before you climb in (like a gentlemonster) and then he'll stare at your ass when you're reaching for whatever is inside (like a perv!).

Someone makes mother hen and chickadee joke.

Someone gets tossed off the ship.

It might not be the worst analogy though: Edge is quite protective of you when you're that small, and you can always turn to him when you're 'getting bullied' by the rest of the crew. Hide in his coat and stick your tongue out while he chides them, that'll show 'm!

Edge is probably one of the people who suggested creating a little room for you to do tiny crafts in so he doesn't accidentally blow your materials away when he walks past in a hurry. He has places to be! Its definitely not because he thinks you're cute and distracting nope--

He does kind of regret it sometimes when he hasn't seen you all day. Show him you thought of him by gifting him a tiny craft, yeah?

Reader might help Razz get super specialized tiny equipment to draw with, like incredibly sharp edged pencils or brushes with materials that you know will still draw well at that size. It could make his detailed works even better!!

...ifffff he lets you watch while he works of course. It'll help you get a better understanding of what he needs! Besides, its very easy to forget that there's a cute little human on your shoulder when you're concentrating that hard. Surely you wouldn't surprise-attack kiss him on the cheek will you? ;)

You get stolen/kidnapped by Cash often, for 'ransom' (food or favors from the others), 'evil purposes' (pranks) or 'for funsies' (attention). Depending on your tolerance/love for pranks he could be an awesome pranking buddy, or a bit of a nightmare.

He might scam people by selling you as a fairy in a cage and then stealing you back immediately, or by trying to convince you to help him cheat at games with a drunk bunch in a pub.

Of course, your ability to grow back to normal size ensures there's always some form of consent to these japes. If you've had enough, grow back to size on his shoulder or in his hand, that'll show him!! He's to lanky to keep his balance, even if he sees it coming.

Bear loves feeding you things when you're small, since most foods are tough to eat when your head is the size of a grape. For example, eating crackers forces you to nibble like a mouse would which is adorable to him. He also tries to make tiny sized dishes for you for a few reasons: one, it hides the before mentioned intentions of watching you eat behind just making you food, two, he's bored and tiny dishes are genuinely challenging, and three: it gets him genuine compliments and interactions with you, resulting in a lovely blushy skeleton.

Also the teaspoon thing would be so funny in this context lmao. You can buy or carve a pretty one to make him feel better about it if you want, and he would find it hilarious if you made and showed him tiny sized food utensils.

You pull Cinnamon around ratatouille-style on occasion. Or at least he definitely lets you lead him around the place while chatting excitedly about everything and nothing. He loves having you so close, and you've built up enough trust for him to know you wont embarrass or prank him. Not that you could pull off a prank anyway: his ability to see auras makes him the only person on the ship who rarely overlooks you when you're tiny.

You've both decided he doesn't tell the others where you are when you need some time alone, but he does feel better knowing you're safe on the ship somewhere, so you do give him a little wave when you spot him.

Then for some extra little tidbits:

If Blue or Red are being annoying while training with reader (as in using reader like a weight for training), reader will suddenly shrink to throw them off balance.

If you're the kind of person to avoid confrontation when you're in trouble then congrats! You can now blip out of place during any uncomfy conversation. This leads to things like the following:

If you nervously leave a lot of conversations by shrinking and leaving when Edge is grilling you, he might take the hint that he's being more harsh then you can handle and he'll treat you with a different tone of voice (to the best of his ability of course). He might use some excuse about his loud voice impacting your tiny tiny eardrums or something but we all know you're just a softy Edge <3

And if you're a trouble-maker like some of the gang, you might actually get on bears nerves enough for him to chase you! And as that usually ends with you shrinking to avoid getting hit with a teaspoon ladle, he just picks you up and puts you in his chest pocket. You are now officially in time-out, and you can either stay there and watch him cook or grow big again and get hit (or at least, thats the implied threat. You both know he wouldn't). He says you'll stay an hour, for punishment, but it only ends up being like ten minutes before he gives mercy. Unless you get all sleepy in his pocket of course...

If the crew would ever need to find and/or rescue you, they would send Cinnamon and Edge or Sans on the case: Cinnamon can find you with his aura vision, and Edge and Sans are respectively the most focused on the task at hand and able to pull you out of whatever place you're in without hurting you.

When the crew plays card games and you're to tired to play yourself, you'll sit on someones shoulder to give advice. Is it good advice? Possibly. Are you cheating by checking in on others? Maybe. Do you use your powers for good? If whoever you're sitting with has been nice, sure :) !

You're either considered a lucky charm or a menace, its up to you ;)

[chaostheoryy]

Duly Noted (A College AU)

[Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X GN!Reader]

Summary: As a studious undergrad on track for graduating with stellar marks, missing class because of the flu was by far the worst way to start your week. Fortunately for you, there’s one bright-eyed classmate who cares about you more than his reputation as a C-minus college athlete.

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Well, since my inbox has been dry as the Sahara, I decided to come up with an idea of my own. So, without further ado, here’s the college AU Rooster fic that no one asked for! (No beta, per usual. We out here raw dogging these mistakes.)

Where are you?

Still in bed…

You’re playing hooky without me???

I’m not playing hooky! I’m sick!

You okay?

Yeah I’m alright. Got the flu I think.

Need me to get you anything? I can bring you medicine or snacks after class.

Nah, I’m good. Thank you though!

If you change your mind, lemme know.

Bradley frowned. As benign as the flu was, the thought of you being ill left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew fully well just how much that course meant to you and your degree. While he spent every class lounging in his chair and letting his mind wander to God knows what, you would bury your nose in your notebook or laptop and take notes on everything the professor said as if your life depended on it. He could only imagine just how disappointed you were missing out on a whole lecture’s worth of information.

Dammit…

As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew right away what had to be done.

“Hey, ’Tasha,” he whispered. “Natasha.”

The dark haired woman one row in front of him turned. Eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a sharp line of irritation, her gaze made daggers feel blunt.

“The hell do you want, Bradshaw?”

“You got a pen I can borrow?”

The question took her by complete surprise. Her brow raised, the scowl on her face melting into an amused smirk.

“You’re joking.”

Bob Floyd, her glasses-wearing friend and study partner, was drawn to her disbelief. “What is it?”

“Jockstrap over here is actually going to take notes.”

Bob glanced between her and Bradley. It took him a second to process what was happening but as soon as it hit him, he cracked a massive grin that rivaled Natasha’s.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Alright, don’t make a big deal of it. You gonna lend me a pen or not?”

“Y’know, part of me wants to say no,” Natasha mused, “But watching you exercise those dusty ol’ brain cells is honestly a rare treat.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She reached into her bag and grabbed an extra pen which she tossed back to him. “Give that back to me after class or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Bringing two fingers to his temple, he gave a little salute. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, unable to hide smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For the first time that semester, Bradley Bradshaw’s untouched notebook was stained with ink.

* * * * *

You had fallen back asleep within minutes of his last text. The previous night had been an absolute nightmare. Violent chills had racked your body and made it impossible to get comfortable. Combining the shivers with the upset stomach and stuffy nose, you were miserable. Any rest you could get throughout the day was God-sent.

Your early morning nap lasted a good two hours. It was the most sound, dreamless sleep you’d had in the past week and, if it weren’t for the fact that Bradley called you just after 10am, you probably would have slept three times as long.

“Hello?” You answered groggily.

On the other end of the line, Bradley hissed. “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay. I’ve got all day to sleep. What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna make you get out of bed but I kinda need you to open the door.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Well, I know you said you didn’t need anything but I stopped at the store for stuff anyway. Can you come let me in? I would have one of your roommates open the door but I guess they’re both in class or something.”

You blinked. He was outside of your apartment.

“Yeah, hang on. I’ll be right down.”

Despite the protests of your body, you hurried out of bed. You ditched the sweat-soaked pajama shirt in the laundry basket and threw on a clean tee before stepping out of your room into the main hallway. A short walk to the front door and you pried it open to find Bradley standing on your welcome mat with paper bags of groceries nestled in both arms. He perked up the second he laid eyes on you.

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey. Come on in.”

You stepped back to let him inside, closing the door behind him as he headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d come over and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As one of your closest friends and long-time classmate—it was honestly crazy to think you’d been in classes together as far back as the 7th grade—the two of you spent more time together than apart. Neither of you would have had it any other way.

“I’d give you a hug,” you said as he started unpacking the grocery bags, “But I don’t want to get you sick too.”

He chuckled. “I think I could take the hit.”

“Just ‘cause you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

You spotted a bottle of Gatorade on the counter where he’d unloaded stacks of soup cans and Tylenol. Taking the bottle, you slunk over to the couch where you could watch from a safe distance. The last thing you wanted was to share your germs with one of the school’s star baseball players. As much shit as Jake Seresin gave you and Bradley, something told you that the dickwad would be all the more annoying if he found out you were the one to force Bradley onto the bench for a week.

“How was Simpson’s class this morning?”

“Oh, thrilling as always,” he replied caustically.

“Bob answer every question?”

“You know it.”

You laughed. “Figures. At least we know that means somebody besides me knows their shit. I’ll have to get his notes later so I can catch up.”

“No need. I got you covered.”

Bradley paused his kitchen organization and dug in the backpack he’d discarded on the dining room table. Grinning proudly, he pulled out his notebook. Yes. His notebook—the one and only busted red spiral notebook with a sticker of a goose in aviators slapped on the bottom right corner of its cover.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…You actually took notes for me?”

“Sure did!”

He strolled over and dropped the notebook in your lap before collapsing on the cozy little armchair across from you. The look on his face as he watched you go through his notes was priceless. With big eyes and a triumphant smile, he bore an uncanny resemblance to a golden retriever waiting for his owner to give him a treat. And boy did he deserve one.

The thoroughness of his notes left you stunned. With six pages of organized, neatly scripted notes, it was by far the most effort you’d ever seen him put into classwork.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you said, “You really went all out on this didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “If I wanted any shot at making something up to your standards, I kinda had to. Plus, Bob and Natasha were eyeing me the entire lecture.  I think I finally get what peer pressure’s like now.”

A dull ache echoed in the back of your head as a reminder of your crappy night’s sleep and irritating affliction. You should’ve gone back to bed but you couldn’t pry your eyes from Bradley’s notebook. It meant the world to you that he’d done that. To think that he’d actually put that much effort into notes taken on your behalf when he wouldn’t even have bothered to jot down a single bullet point for himself. 

You flipped through the pages again, unable to hold back an awestruck sigh. “God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

The statement was out of your mouth and lingering in the air long before your brain processed the consequences. What on God’s green Earth compelled you to say that? Were you high on over the counter flu meds? Or had the fever actually fried your brain?

You wanted to take it back. Especially when you dared to glance up and found Bradley gaping at you. 

Oh, for the love of God, you thought as fresh, non-fever related color rushed to your cheeks. Of all the ways to confess, this is the one you go with?

In all honesty, you should have seen it coming. It was only a matter of time. 

He’d been your best friend for the better part of a decade. Inseparable from the moment you met. Every big life event from birthdays to buying your first car, he was the first one to celebrate with you. Hell, the guy passed up a full ride to play baseball at the University of Florida just so he could go to the same school as you. 

Slowly but surely, as the years rolled on and childhood faded into the past, the friendship that you treasured became the key to your happiness. The goofy, thrill-seeking kid you’d come to adore and trust with your entire being grew into a selfless gentleman. Though he never lost that edge that separated him from perfectionists and academics, he’d clearly come into his own. It would have been impossible for you not to fall for him.

“Did you just say you wanna kiss me?”

Bradley’s voice reeled you back in from the sea of your internal torment. He didn’t sound angry or even disgusted by the notion. In fact, he almost sounded delighted—a theory that was backed the moment you looked over and saw a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and, despite the outcry from every defense mechanism tucked away in your subconscious, you forced yourself to reply. “I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice registering just above a whisper.

“Good.”

Your brow furrowed at his reply. You wanted to ask what he meant, to see if your confession was something the foundations of your friendship could withstand. But he was on his feet and crossing the distance between his chair and the couch before a question was even formulated in your mind.

“Bradley, hold on. I don’t wanna get you si—“

The protest died on your tongue. Warm, gentle hands cupped your jaw as his lips met yours. It was a sweet kiss. There was no hurry, no hesitation. Just the taste of a decade’s worth of fondness and pent up intimacy. Between the soothing caress of his fingertips at the nape of your neck and the bristle of his mustache just above your upper lip, you swore his kiss was better than heaven itself.

His hands kept their post along your jaw when he pulled back to look at you. The smile on his face was unbearably reverent. Anything softer than that look in his eyes and you would have suffocated.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” You asked.

“How long have we been friends?”

Both of you chuckled. Turns out you weren’t the only one who’d gradually fallen over the years.

“Well, thank you,” you said.

“For what?”

You patted the notebook still sitting in your lap. “For thinking of me this morning. And for not flipping out when I said I wanted to kiss you.”

“This may come as a surprise,” he said with a lopsided smirk, “But I think about you a lot.”

Your brow cocked. “Oh, really?”

While it was clear from his tone that he meant it in an innocent, heartfelt manner, you couldn’t help but toy with the more explicit connotation of his words. And let’s be honest, you were guilty of having thoughts that strayed a little too far off the path of purity.

“Hey!” Bradley’s hands fell from your neck and one of his palms playfully shoved you back against the couch by the forehead. “Settle down. You’re supposed to be sick, not horny.”

You reached out to smack his thigh. “And you’re not supposed to be kissing people when they’re sick, dumbass. Jake’s gonna kill me if you end up missing a single practice.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll just OD on Emergen-C when I get home.”

He ignored your childish pout and plopped down on the couch next to you. Rather than drape his arm over the back of your seat like he normally did, he hooked it around your shoulders and pulled you into the warmth of his embrace. Your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck where the scent of his cologne lulled you into dream-like contentment. You’d always thought he smelled good but nuzzling into him like that made it hard to overlook just how right it felt to be engulfed in his presence.

“You need anything?” He asked after a long moment of agreeable silence. “I can make you some soup if you want. I also got some mac n’ cheese if you’re feeling up to it. I don’t know how bitchy your stomach is acting right now.”

“Bradley?”

“Hm?”

“Shut up and let me fall asleep on you.”

A delightful, weightless sensation twisted in your stomach when you felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. Now there was a feeling you never realized you wanted.

“Alright. You sleep. We’ll get you to eat something when you wake up,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed your approval and closed your eyes. All of your senses zeroed in on him. The way he smelled of cedarwood and ocean breezes, the way his chest rose and fell beneath you with each breath, the way his thumb absentmindedly stroked your shoulder. All of it was new and exciting. And yet, at the same time, it was as if you’d been indulging in the gifts of his adoration your entire life.

In a stark contrast to the evening prior, you fell asleep in record time. 

[lalazeewrites]

What are your personal favorite Gallavich fics?

OKAY, BUCKLE IN!

I actually answer this fic and Tumblr like glitched and deleted it and I was crushed about it, but now I'm back. Ready to tackle this again!

First off, I have 90 Gallavich fics bookmarked. So let's start with the fact that I have a lot of fics that I LOVE and I'm going to link you right here to my Gallavich Bookmarks, should you want to look. I didn't add to my list any purely smutty fics and I have A LOT of amazing ones Bookmarked.

That being said, here are my personal standouts. I'm NOT putting these in order of how much I like them, because I would simply die on the spot under that kind of pressure.

BELOW THE READ MORE: 25 FIC RECS & SHORT RAVE REVIEWS

Life, or Something by @palepinkgoat

This fic encapsulates a lot of things that I crave in a fic that is designed specifically for my tastes. Personal journeys that begin rocky and work toward healing. Dark themes that are treated in a very matter-of-fact way instead of rolling in angst. The growth of mental health. You'll probably see those themes a lot in the fics I love. I also have a fascination with all things death, as someone who has almost died many times and who struggles with a chronic illness. This fic is so. . .beautiful? Articulate. FEELING. I love everything about it.

Belladonna by devovitsuasartes

Oh, THIS. Oof. Okay, this is fantasy HOW I WANT IT. So intricate, so unique, so embedded into the world-building that isn't word-dumped on us with exposition, but SHOWN to us. Witches and forced familiars, complicated family dynamics, rough pasts, coming full circle between the beginning and the end. Emotional journeys, coming back from tough experiences, PINING. This is the fantasy for ME.

Is There Somewhere by andchaos

Soulmates! Soulmarks! Mute Ian who is really fucking funny and sweet and Mickey who doesn't think he has a soulmate because he has no 'first words said to me' mark. I love the dance, I love their rapport, I love how warm this fic is. I've read it several times for comfort.

You Can Bite Me by @goodkwuestion

It's easy as breathing to love all of this author's fics, but this is the one for me, and it has nothing to do with the fantasy vampire aspect. This is one of the only fics that has made me cry. I don't cry from fics, almost ever. The write in this goes from hilarious, witty, clever, and sharp, and then swoops you into appreciating the beauty and sanctity of life, traversing the journey of loss and grief, embracing the passage of time, welcoming love into your life, and simply embracing what it means to be human. This fic touched me in ways I'll never be able to express without a five page essay.

Etherized Against The Sky by Snarfle

A canon-divergent story from 1x09 onward. I couldn't put this into words if I tried, because it is EVERYTHING. Everything that I could ever want in a canon compliant type of fic. Holy shit, does this make me ache. It explores so many facets of their growth, mental health, self-acceptance, found family, rebuilding blood family, and learning how to live in the world of Shameless, but this time, thriving. A complete work of art.

You make me feel human by Dragona

Listen. LISTENNN. Are you listening? Anything that is considered a 'dark' AU is going to be my jam. Anything that dips its toe or severed foot into Hannibal or Murder Husbands type worlds are not just up my alley, but they're leading right up to my fucking house and knocking on the door. This is it, folks! This is the one! No one did it like this fic did it! PLUS: A happy ending? Bitch, I'm on the ground.

My Nine Lovers by @annatrow

While we're talking kiss kiss bang bang gun boyfriends, let's just slap this fic right down here, because holy fuck, I have read it at least three times. The pining? The smut? The secrets? SEXY MURDER BOYFRIENDS TURNED HUSBANDS??? Yeah, honey, I'm here in the front row with my little #1 fingie! My Bookmark comment says "This was so fucking clever and reverent and heartening and joyful."

The Mask of Insanity by @annatrow

Yeah yeah, I am trying to pick only one per author, but I simply cannot with this one. It's so fucking gritty and smart and sharp and emotional. Full of depth, character growth, strange life coincidences, bad boys and good guys and where they fall in between together. I'm big on fics that make you fall down, get scraped up real good, then pick you up by the armpits and say, bitch, we're got more to go!

Conflict of Interest by @thisdivorce

Everyone and their mom knew this was coming. It has everything I crave in a fic. Exceptional characterization. Deeply flawed, real humans living through real life events. The struggles of being queer and unsupported, specifically within the trans community. Journeys through mental health and the pitfalls of navigating the world when you don't see it as clearly as others might. Tearing and screaming out of the confines you've built around yourself, even if they're comfortable and safe, but knowing it's no longer right for you. This fic as everything and more and I've read it three times now because it fills my heart.

(And since this author is possibly probably my fav ever in this fandom, check out WIPs Reckoner and Change Like Shifting Shadows because their writing speaks to my pain and love on a bone deep level.)

Burden of Proof by DodgerBear

Okay, I really fucking like crime fics. Whether on the good side, bad side, or grey side, I love crime fics. This one is soooooo good, and I LIVE for the pining, the draw between them, the SPICE. Please! This is so fucking well done! Whip smart and sexy!

(and shout out to WIP by the same author, Quatervois, for which I will wait an eternity to update, I don't care, go read it NOW.)

Wild West Ian and Mickey by 09cityskylights

Always always always, I will be invested in Western AUs. Any fandom, anywhere, any time. I love for Westerns and this author does it so perfectly. I fucking adore this journey and I can't recommend it enough.

Can't Figure You Out by Crimson_Bebop

If I'm going to pick one office AU from the lot (and there's so many good ones, check out this post for more), it's gonna be this. It's nerve-wrecking, hot as hell, an emotional rollercoaster. You're rooting for both of them so badly, but they both require different but equally important things in their lives, and finding that middle ground is MESSY.

Dancing After Death by @squidyyy23

Oh man. Oh shit. I don't know where or hot to start, because this combines two of my fav things, Sons of Anarchy with Shameless. It combines them, yes, but more important, this is completely it's own beast with an incredibly detailed timeline of events. It's hot as all HELL, it's gritty, it's real, it's loving and tender and difficult and highly charged with emotion and struggle. LIVING FOR IT. I have read this three times.

Teenagers Scare The Living Shit Out Of Me by Mellow_Yellow

Oh hey, we're back at the Lala Loves Murder & Crime Show, and yeah, this one is FULL of it. It's so fucked up. It's so well written. The character growth is fucking A+, the murder reveal is exceptional, the mystery is FRAUGHT WITH DANGER. Guys! It's so fucking GOOD!

Teenage Dirtbag by @celestialmickey

Hah. . .I have read this three times. I'll never have read it enough times. Ian is 17 in 1999 here and I was 12 at the time, so everything this fic speaks to speaks of my entire adolescence and I just. Deeply cherish every moment. I savor every chapter of slow build. I revel in their victories. I sing along to all of their songs that I already know by heart, I wiggle in my seat to the Spotify soundtrack, I live for the vingettes of their happy ending. This fic is so magicl and wias written with such love and care.

you'll never see us again by @spoonfulstar

Okay okay okay, listen to me. Yes, we ALL love Intro to Quantum Dating by this author. I fucking adore it. I open it up at random chapters just to read and make myself smile. But THIS FIC??? THIS ONE??? You have got to be kidding me. I cried. I fucking yearned. I hurt, I hurt so bad down to my toes, and I smiled when things went right, and I teared up when it didn't, and I hoped and prayed for a happy ending, and yes I got one that was fulfilling and beautiful and poignant. Did the fact that I am a kidney transplant recipient play into my deep-seeding feelings about this fic? Absolutely. Do I think everyone should read this fic to grasp what exceptional storytelling looks like? BIG TIME.

Solid Skies and Slate-Blue Earth Below by @sentimentalspiders

This is one of the weirdest fucking fics I"ve ever read and I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. Best alien!Ian! Exceptional, fascinating, vivid writing style! The narrative is articulated in such an ethereal, out-of-the-box way that is perfectly fits a story that is about an alien and a very lost man. It's SOOO COOL.

Brand Spanking New by J_Q

I don't know what to tell you. Micky gets sent to a fuckin' retreat when he gets professionally spanked (by Ian) to fix his horrible behavior. He gets out of there and then he and Ian start a very detailed BDSM relationship. This is SOOO my wheelhouse of JOY, but if it is not yourself, y'know uh. I mean, I still recommend it anyway. It's so wildly delightful and hot as FUCK.

That's a Wrap by @crossmydna

Am I biased because this was written for me as a gift? Shut the fuck up, of course I am. But also, no, because well before Cross took on prompts, they were working on The Menagerie which is in my top five favorite Gallavich fics of all time, and I read it all the time AND YOU SHOULD TOO. Anyway, back to this fic. What can I say, it's EVERYTHING I WANT. Actor AUs! Meet Ugly, the hottest smut imaginable, banter that's sharp and strong, badass Ian & Mickey, everything everything everything.

The Stargazer by crazynadine

Hey yeah, hi, welcome to my Daddy Kink. There's a lot of it. Let me show you around, its got scrappy heart of gold sex worker Mickey, it's got age difference bearded and jaded by life Ian, it's got panties and road side motels, and secrets, jealousy, and hot hot hot smut, like holy shit. But if daddy kink is not your jam, then y'know. . .ahem.

The Question of Normal by blue_newman

Ian is a prison counselor and Mickey is in prison. The way that I LIVE for Ian breaching any of his professional protocols to help Mickey (this goes for so many fics in my bookmarked fics) is unholy, but how about you five me a fucking break okay. I just like it when they break the rules, as they should, because this is Shameless LOL. But seriously, this is so thoughtful and heartening and left me feeling really fucking right in the world after I read it.

Well, I hope this helped! This is only about a fifth of my Bookmarked fics, and I wanted to write about SO MANY MORE. Anyone is always welcome to ask me to rave about fics, I am always here for it lol.

I said this in the begining, but I have bookmaked A LOT of smut fics that I think are exceptional works, so I suggest you filter my Bookmarks by works under 10,000 words and you're gonna find 'em all.