#last time stone was a paparazzi

[basslinegrave]

started up sims, looked into a bar which had 2 mixologists, they were specifically robotnik and stone and as i went to make the sim order a drink it crashed entirely

#thats what i get for not playing on a sims sunday but a tuesday #these two just be taking up the randomest jobs #last time stone was a paparazzi #and before that they were some showmen or whatever #thoughts are being thunk

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 10 : MOMMY'S BOY; SISTERS PAWN

"The scandal of it all!"

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo realized he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 3K

[ DISCLAIMER!!! YOUR BODY IS BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY IT IS!!! AND YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN A TRILLION GAZILLION KABILLION BUCKS!!!]

“That dress makes you look fat.”

“I agree, you look a tad… robust.”

For today’s catastrophe, you had the joy of honing in on the final detail for you and Katsuki’s wedding. The dress, of course!

You’ve always watched TV shows where the excited, bubbling bride brings their loved ones to shop for “the dress.” Only to be filled with anger and distraught over the absolute gall their family was.

You thought to yourself how you would never let this happen to you. If there was a problem, you tell them to get the fuck out! It’s your wedding anyway.

But now that you fit the quota (and maybe not the dress), you’re starting to think otherwise. And who else is better to go dress shopping with, than your fiance’s mother and your beloved sister?

Swallowing your pride, you show a defeated smile and step down from the elevated space. Turning around, you head back into the dressing room and look in the mirror. Letting out an exhale, you brushed your hand through your hair and placed it back on your hip with a plop.

“Just a couple of more dresses until they break,” you chuckled, reassuring yourself from the absolute nightmare this whole day has been. Biting your lip, you began to look at yourself a bit more. Straightening out some flimsy pieces here and there, swaying side to side in the dress.

You can’t believe you’re doing this…

You’ve fantasized about moments like these in your head millions of times. You’d be the perfect wife, marrying the perfect husband, who has the perfect family.  But now that everything has come to the forefront— it just seemed so dull.

You’re thankful you get some chance of normalcy… paparazzi included.

It was only an amount of time until you’d walk down the aisle to the “man of your dreams” and sign yourself away for the rest of eternity. And not even that will be set in stone.

“You’re just an open book of failures, aren't you?”

You spoke quietly to yourself. Scrunching your mouth to the side, you held back tears. You didn’t have the money to stain a 10-thousand-dollar dress with a 10-dollar mascara.

“Failed job, failed love life, failed marriage, failed quirk…” you trailed.

When was there a time when your life gave you a break? A moment of grace? When was the last time you felt genuine happiness beyond your prowess?

A singular tear streamed down your cheek.

Chin held high, you extended your hand out and under your cheek. “10 thousand dollars,” you whimpered. You’re wearing a dress worth ten thousand dollars, and yet you amount to nothing.

It's like placing birthday makeup on a potato sack.

As the tears kept streaming down your face, your whimpers grew louder. So much for trying to beat the sad-bridal-dress-shopping troupe.

God, when will you ever get a break?

Knock knock knock

Before you could even compose yourself with the little amount of time you had, the door was opened and someone barged in. “Y’know— if you’re gonna invite us, be respectful of other people's time. We’ve been sitting outside like a deer in headlights because you decided to dress yourself in that hideous mermaid tail–”

Mitsuki moaned on and on until she raised her head, and as her eyes fixed on your broken position; she was left speechless.

“Oh… um.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry,” you mumbled with a hick in your breath. As you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, you then placed them on the sides of your neck. You stared at Mitsuki’s speechless look, unable to care for how she might scold you next.

The mother then let out a sigh before she reached into her purse. As she rummaged around, she found a package of napkins and opened them with haste. Handing them to you, you reached out with hesitance before you took them from her grasp.

“You know that dress is designer?” she deadpanned.

“Gee whiz! I don’t think I thought of that,” you spoke a cutting remark as venom oozed from each word.

“Who are you talking to?” Mitsuki scowled at your remark. You couldn't help but break out into a strained laughter at her words. “I’m talking to a woman who thinks I’ll never be good for their son!” You exclaimed with an anguished, teary smile.

Mitsuki jumped at your exclamation…

“I’m talking to someone who has only met me once, and now they have to call me their daughter-in-law, knowing they’d rather drop dead! Someone who knows that me and Katsuki should’ve never been together. Someone who is just as confused as I am, because we both know that whatever Katsuki sees in me is a lie!”

Your voice harshly trembled with each agonizing word, “is that what you wanted to hear?”

Mitsuki was unable to utter another word.

“I admit it! I’m a fucking fraud! I’m just some girl who’s trying to hold on to this false sense of happiness and drain it for whatever it’s worth because something always tells me it’ll be worth it. And it never fucking is!”

“Failure after failure, and I still don’t know what my purpose is on this earth! I’ll never be good enough for the life I’ve always dreamed of, the life where me and your son are in love and are getting married happily. Not by some phony contract!”

Mitsuki growled at your words, “what contract?”

“The…stupid-fucking marriage contract! This whole marriage is a sham!” You cried out. Mitsuki lets out a breath and begins to ponder around the dressing room, taking in the words you’ve spoken.

“Your son wanted some shot at normalcy and roped me into all of this mess. And you know what’s crazy? I said yes because I didn’t want to lose my job! My one shot of living the life I always dreamed, hanging by the thread of a shitty NDA and a seven-carat ring!”

Your words sunk deep into his mother's chest, weighing her down one by one, until she was left leaning against the wall with her hands cradling her face.

“And you know what’s even worse? I used to fucking hate his guts! But now…”

But now… what? You were silent.

The room hung heavy with silence, a palpable weight that seemed to press down on the both of you, muffling every breath and stifling any attempt at speech. The stillness was deafening, a stark contrast to the lively conversation that had filled the space moments earlier. An eerie hush blanketed the room as if the very air had stilled, holding its breath in anticipation of something yet to come.

Mitsuki’s hands drag from her face and her eyes bore into your disheveled state. Standing back up, she then neared towards you and then threw her purse down on the floor.

Unable to look into her eyes, your knees fall weak and you lower to the floor. Following suit, Mitsuki lowers herself and sits on the floor with you. “Listen, about my son…”

“Since the moment he was a young boy, I always knew he’d be destined for greatness. He was such a bright and confident spirit. Very sure in himself and his purpose in life

But ever since the war.”

You notice the drop in her tone, you nice her let out a defeated breath. She shook her head and continued to speak.

“That spark left him.”

“What do you mean?” You spoke softly.

“When I saw my son in the hospital— all his life was sucked out of him. His eyes were dead and he just looked out the window. Then the next moment he burst into tears…” Mitsukis voice wavered as her throat began to tighten, taking herself back to that dreadful day. 

“He never told me why he cried but I could put two and two together.”

Mitsuki wiped her tears with her finger, trying to gain back her composer. “Why was he crying?” you asked.

“Because he’s tired.”

Your brows were furrowed, eyes concentrating on her face. A heavy silence blanketed over the both of you, broken by the sound of a sniffle. “I knew at that moment I had lost my son forever. He’s not the same bright little boy anymore, he’s distant, reserved, and he’s completely shut out me and his father.”

“I apologize for how we’ve treated you.”

You turned to see Katsuki's mother, Mitsuki, looking out with a rueful expression. Despite her blunt words, you detected a certain softness there.

"I was the one who pushed him into heroics from a young age," she continued with a sigh. "Katsuki always had a...driven personality, even as a little kid. I figured that channeling it into becoming a pro hero would be good for him."

Mitsuki shook her head. "But I look at that son of mine now and I can't help but wonder if I steered him wrong somewhere along the way."

"With how angry and arrogant he is, maybe I should've pushed him into a different hobby," Mitsuki lamented. "Something where he could put that intensity to better use than constantly fighting and yelling."

She turned to you then, giving you an appraising look. "You must be a real saint to put up with that spitfire attitude of his. So, I understand you hate him–”

“I don’t hate him… I feel the exact opposite, actually.”

“So then what do you feel?”

“I feel like he’s worthy… worthy of love beyond his own comprehension.”

Mistuki nods in silence, “and I know that he’s been hurt in the past, and he’s willing to give this another try. And I’m happy for him because he’s just like any other person on earth with the right to experience love. Heroic title or not… I’m glad he was able to find something close to that with me.”

You showed a soft smile, satisfied that you were finally able to get that off your chest.

Mitsuki smiles back as she then rests her hand on your shoulder. You looked up to meet her gaze, falling into the familiar crimson irises.

“No matter how this marriage came to be,” she spoke, her voice thick with earnest emotion. “Whether it was by chance or by contract…” She gave your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “The way my son looks at you tells me all I need to know.”

You felt your eyes prick with tears at her words, overwhelmed by the depth of her acceptance. “You two kids have found something real,” she continues firmly. “As parents, that’s the only thing we could hope for— that our children find genuine love and devotion.” Her smile turned impish, “even if it is with that hotheaded son of mine.”

A teary giggle bubbled up from your chest. An arm swept around your shoulders, and Mitsuki hugged you close in a warm embrace. “As long as you two have each other… that’s all that matters to an old lady like me.”

You pulled away from her embrace and showed her a smile, “thank you.”

Mitsuki chuckled before shuffling on the floor. “Now, let's get you up! My legs are killing me.”

As you both rise from the floor, you look at each other in a comfortable silence.

After Mitsuki finished gushing about how beautiful the wedding dress looked on you, she gave you an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

"Alright, let me give you some privacy to try on the next one," she said with a warm smile. "I'll be right outside if you need any help with the zipper or laces."

You nodded gratefully as Mitsuki slipped out of the fitting room, leaving you to carefully remove the lace gown. Just as you had stepped into the next dress sample, a sharp knock came at the door.

"Who is it?" you called out, doing a little shimmy to pull the dress up over your hips.

"It's me," came your sister's muffled voice from the other side. She didn't sound pleased.

Furrowing your brow, you quickly zipped and smoothed the dress before cracking open the door. Your sister's frown deepened as she looked at you over.

"Sis? What's wrong?" you asked with a tinge of worry. "Did something happen?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose. "Oh, nothing... except I just got a call from mom. Apparently, she's refusing to come dress shopping because, and I quote, 'That unstable brute isn't good enough for my baby.'"

You felt your jaw drop as realization set in. "Wait... she's boycotting my wedding dress shopping because of Katsuki?" 

A beat of silence passed between you before your sister's stony expression cracked and she let out a barking laugh.

"Leave it to Mom to find the most dramatic way to voice her dislike of your fiance," she giggled, shaking her head. "The scandal of it all!"

Unable to help yourself, you soon joined in the laughter, doubling over at the sheer ridiculousness of your mother's actions. Trust her to make a fuss at every turn about your perfectly wonderful relationship.

"Well, her loss then!" you managed between gasping breaths. "We'll just have to celebrate without her negativity!"

“Speaking of that… I can't wait to see his face when you say no and embarrass him in front of thousands! It’s what the brute deserves.” She chuckled.

You chose not to respond, and she took notice of that.

“About that… this whole elaborate plan— I think we should give it a rest.” You spoke firmly. Your sister shot you a look of disgust, “excuse me?”

“All I’m saying is… I’ve gotten to know him a bit more and—”

“You’ve fallen in love with the prick?” Your sister’s voice raised. You frown at her words, too embarrassed to argue back at her. A distressed break of laughter falls from her chest, “I fucking knew it!”

“I knew you’d find a way to mess this up and ditch me! As per usual” she spat. A look of disbelief cascaded over your face, “ditch you?” you asked.

“Yeah! Y’know— you go to the perfect school, get the perfect job, the apartment, the husband.” Your sister snarled as she pointed at the wedding dress. “And you leave the people you knew the longest behind to pick up the scraps!”

“And you wonder why you had to pick up scraps? Because you decided to run away and live your life without us! Leaving me to do all the work! So yeah, something good is finally happening to me and I’m gonna take advantage of that!

It’s not my fault you were a lost cause!” You yelled in anger.

Your sister's eyes went wide at the biting remark that had slipped out in the heat of your argument. "Did you really just say that to me?" she asked in disbelief, shaking her head slowly. 

For a moment, an awkward silence hung in the air as you stubbornly avoided her gaze. But then her expression hardened and she let out a derisive chuckle, taking a step closer until she was mere inches from your face.

"You're going to regret those words, sis," she said in a low, dangerous tone. "I don't take that kind of insult lightly, especially from family."

You refused to be intimidated, squaring your shoulders as you met her glare head-on. "Well then, if you know what's good for you, don't bother coming to my wedding," you retorted.

Her eyes flashed with fury before she gave a mocking laugh. "Oh, I'll be there alright. And you'll wish I wasn't by the time I'm through with you."

Refusing to be baited further, you simply shrugged one shoulder coolly. "Suit yourself. But any scene you cause, I'm holding you responsible.”

"We'll see about that," she hissed venomously. With one last withering look, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving you to anxiously play with the skirt of your dress.

Beneath the veneer of the joyous celebration raged a storm of bitter envy and resentment. Lurking in the shadows was the black sheep sister— a stark contrast to you. While you basked in the warmth of acceptance by Bakugo's hero circle, your sisters' lives had been a vortex of misery and poor decisions.

Cast out by their parents years ago, she found herself adrift and desperate on the streets. A chance encounter with a nefarious villain gang seemed her only lifeline, despite the cost. Slowly but surely, she buried herself deeper into their seedy underworld— committing petty crimes, and gathering intel, all to pay off her mounting debts owed to the merciless criminals.

What should have been her salvation became a noose around her neck. The more she witnessed your charmed life and success, the more her resentment mutated into a toxic obsession. The favoritism, the accolades, the love from the famous Dynamight— it all fanned the flames of her hatred.

When she discovered her pathetic sister had secured the heart of the renowned hero, something snapped inside Akari. She could never truly find happiness knowing you had achieved the perfect life. If she couldn't have that perfection for herself, she would ensure you burned with her in misery.

Trading villain information about Dynamight and his colleagues became her twisted obsession. Your sister bided her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike - when she could sacrifice her sister on the altar of her malicious envy. Ruin both their lives with one brutal act, while settling her debts and finally living the life she deserved. 

But as you seamlessly got accepted by your fiance's friend group, seeing the genuine love and joy surrounding the both of you, it unraveled the last threads of your sister's unraveling sanity. Her fingers tightened around the serrated blade she'd been concealing, her eyes glittering with madness. If she could never attain that happiness for herself, then you didn't deserve to either.

She was done watching her sister have everything while she wallowed in darkness. One way or another, the path of perfection you walked would be drenched in ashes and ruin—

she would die trying.

I know the chapter's short, but I'm saving a big juicy chapter for the ending!

— lovelyiida

TAG LIST ❥: @xo-evangeline, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish , @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows , @itgetzweird08 , @yoyosocks165 , @pebblepoop , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @katsu-shi , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07s , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @alicen23 , @xasilex , @elegantvoids , @lowkeyremi , @plutounderbridges , @k0z3me , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @winterv-black , @chuugarettes , @kiarathace , @thisbicc , @hyu-hl , @katsukisxslut , @optimisticprime3 , @cosmicbreathe , @yessimo , @sanemishina , @snxwycloud , @cosmic-rainstorm , @venus-xxoo , @lavender99 , @iluv-ace , @artfulthoughtsblog , @thatcreepycat , @lavalampfullofsoup , @starxsage , @mikestuffffs , @kazuumii , @slut4donghyuck , @sikuthealien , @grinnwolph , @geniejunn , @the-dumpster-fire-of-life , @neoclb , @camilo-uwu , @cheesetouch101 , @sinyaaa , @pearlywhitefics , @spitfireball , @attractivepie

#mha headcanons #lovelyiida #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #bakugo x reader

[yourclumsyguardianangel]

the seven + a few others future headcanons

percy:

becomes a high school teacher

teaches high school marine biology (idk how it is in other schools but when we hit sophomore year we got to choose different bio classes ie: marine bio, ag bio, med bio + regular bio)

also teaches the mythology elective and is the swim team coach

annabeth:

we already know this queen is an architect with obvious inspiration from greek architecture

learns how to make blue food for percy and their kids from sally

has traveled all over the world looking at different architecture

learns the basics of many languages so shes able to communicate with the locals

her and leo team up to build a small school near camp half-blood for year rounders so everyone can learn consistently but dw they get summers off

piper:

love her but shes a nepo baby

she doesnt act like it tho

”are you tristan mcleans daughter?” “who?”

loves her dad to bits but does not like being seen out in public by the paparazzi

marries shel, they dont have kids tho, neither of them want to bring any into the world especially with america’s downfall and the government erasing women and poc rights

is basically leos big sister atp

leo:

him and calypso dont last, maybe a year and a half in they split bc calypso wants to explore the world and leo is very emotionally unstable and calypso has a hard time understanding

they end on good terms but dont ever talk unless its with a group of friends

he goes into a trade to become a mechanic and owns his own shop

starts smoking cigarettes/vaping

his friends dont really approve but they understand he cant quit just yet as hes not in a mental space to do so

goes to therapy with a psychologist whos a demigod that specializes in grieving and war trauma

they all go to therapy but hes the last one to do it

he’s still the ‘happy go lucky’ guy hes always been but as he gets closer w the others they start to see the true sadness in him

piper and him grow a lot closer after jason died and have a big sister little brother relationship

hazel:

my girl stays at camp jupiter

takes nicos place at camp

horse trainer

her and frank also dont work out as a romantic relationship, they felt that the age gap was too much after frank turned 18 and hazel was 15 theyre still friends tho

hazel often visits leo in his shop

as much as leo reminds her of sammy, through therapy she has recognized that theyre separate people and to not push all her past feelings for sammy onto leo

not only does she train horses but she also teaches little kids basic math, science, and history to the younger kids

they all call her ms. hazel

she prefers to teach the really young kids (age 4-7)

wears her hair in different braid styles after BOO

frank:

my friggin HOMIE

i relate to frank a lot personality wise

therefore i think hed be a 4/20 fanatic after BOO

hes not stoned during training or during important camp duties

but otherwise you try talkin to him and you dont really notice until you look and see the far off look and red eyes and he just goes “huh?”

other than that hes a great leader

after he gets his cool new look from mars he takes really good care of his body including consistent exercise and eating really healthily (maybe he has a soft spot for fast food when hes hi)

him joining the military does not make sense to me

he lost his mom to war, and he was in one himself, idk about you but i would not wanna join the military after being the main character in a war

he studies to be a veterinarian for exotic animals

when no one is around he shifts into the animal to find out whats wrong

”dr. zhang prefers to work by himself” “why” “idk but hes always right, if it aint broke dont fix it”

jason:

rip home-slice

nico:

my other homie

my guy does not get taller than 5’8

stays at camp during the summer to train the new and old kids

him and will get a house together

teaches history at the camp school

cat dad (5 cats and counting)

will:

takes nicos last name when they marry bc its cooler

him being a doctor doesnt click w me i more picture him being an EMT

EMTs are hotter anyways

does med training with new apollo kids whenever he gets time

if he’s not busy during working hours he drops by nicos classroom w his fav drink from dutch bros (starbucks is MID) and hangs out with him and his students

#percy jackson #pjo #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #will solace #heroes of olympus #solangelo #percabeth

[perfectsunlight]

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

lisa x non-idol!reader

warnings: minor angst (?) , mostly fluff tbh

part 2 of attention

word count: 3,313

synopsis: your girlfriend proves that she'd do anything for you, no matter what.

an international flight was more than enough time for lisa to think. she knew you weren’t going to answer her, especially after your last argument. she also knew that this wasn’t just about the argument, or your graduation. this was about your relationship.

lisa rested her head against the window, doing her best to ignore the kid kicking her seat behind her and the way the man next to her was snoring. when she arrived at the airport, she didn’t really have a plan. all she knew was that she needed to get onto the next flight back to korea as soon as possible.

maybe that’s why she didn’t care if she got an economy class ticket and boarded without anything except the clothes on her back and the items in her purse. perhaps that’s why she didn’t care that her phone was at 45% or that her airpods were left in the hotel. but none of that seemed to matter to her at the moment.

nothing was as important as you.

with a heavy sigh, the idol closed her eyes, attempting to find solace in the darkness behind her eyelids. but there was no escape. every single one of her empty promises haunted her. she realized that this flight was more than just a physical journey; it was a mental and emotional odyssey, a chance to finally confront the demons that had driven a wedge between you and her.

regret was not a strong enough word to describe the emotions that she felt right now. 

she had spent so long blaming everything and everyone else for the issues you two had. the tour, the company, the schedules. these all had a strain on your relationship, but she never stopped to truly recognize that her actions had done the most damage.

but lisa also knew she was causing damage by going to be with you, as well.

missing a concert date was a breach that yg entertainment would not take lightly, especially from someone as crucial to the group as her. the repercussions would be severe, but at that moment, it felt like a distant concern. 

all she cared about right now was you.

time seemed to stretch and contract in the confined space of the airplane. hours passed like minutes, and yet every second felt like an eternity. the rhythmic hum of the engines provided a backdrop to her thoughts as she drifted in and out of attentiveness. 

as the plane descended into seoul, lisa's heart beat erratically in her chest, matching the turbulence of her thoughts. the city lights twinkled below, a familiar sight that should have comforted her, but all she felt was a gnawing anxiety. the weight of it pressed on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

she glanced at her phone, which was at 15% battery, and noticed the time. lisa would barely make it on time to your graduation. it was cutting close. 

every passing minute seemed to mock her, reminding her of the time slipping away, of the chance she might be losing with each second ticking by. the reality of what she had done settled in like a heavy stone in her stomach, a constant reminder of her impulsive decision. as the plane taxied toward the gate, lisa's fingers drummed anxiously on the armrest. she knew she had to face the consequences of her actions. 

with a sense of urgency, lisa rushed out of the plane. paparazzi and fans were everywhere. the thai girl pulled her shades closer to her face and lowered her cap to shield her eyes and send the silent message that she didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. 

lisa navigated the chaos of the airport terminal with the grace of a seasoned performer, her steps quick and purposeful despite the pounding in her chest. the cacophony of voices and camera shutters filled the air, each flash of light blinding her momentarily. she pulled her shades closer to her face, a feeble attempt to shield herself from the prying eyes and the harsh glare of the cameras. she felt like a deer in the headlights, vulnerable and exposed. 

the fans, once adoring, now felt like an encroaching wall of judgment and scrutiny. every step she took seemed to magnify her guilt, each flash of the camera a reminder of her failures. reaching the front of the airport, lisa spotted a nearby taxi.

paparazzi shouted questions, their relentless pursuit of a scandal evident in their probing eyes. lisa kept her head down, her cap pulled low, and her shades hiding her emotions. she was a fortress of stone, unwilling to let the world see the cracks in her armor. as she slid into the backseat of the car, the noise outside dulled to a muffled roar. the tinted windows offered a semblance of privacy, shielding her from the prying eyes outside. 

inside the taxi, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. the paparazzi’s shouts faded into the distance, and the insulating walls of the car cocooned lisa in a brief moment of respite. yet, the weight of her actions pressed heavily upon her shoulders, even in the relative silence of the vehicle. 

“where to?” the driver asked as he looked back at the idol through his rear view mirror. “seoul national university.” lisa quickly replied, rubbing her temples. 

the taxi driver nodded, his eyes meeting lisa's briefly in the rearview mirror before he pulled away from the curb. the city lights blurred into streaks of color as the car sped through the night, the engine's hum a steady rhythm beneath their conversation. lisa leaned back in her seat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. 

the weight of her actions bore down on her, but in this moment, she was determined to face them. there was no turning back now. the truth, raw and unfiltered, was what you deserved. as the car wound its way through the familiar streets of seoul, lisa's gaze drifted outside the window. her phone buzzed with messages and missed calls, but she ignored them. right now, you were her sole focus.

this was your special evening. she’d witnessed how hard you had worked over the past years, spending hours studying and slaving away at the kitchen table in her home. there were many days when she’d barely be coming home at the early hours of daw, only to see you fast asleep under your books and papers. 

there were countless evenings when lisa would return home after a grueling day of rehearsals and find you hunched over your books, your eyes tired but resolute. the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face as you delved into your notes, your fingers dancing across the keyboard with practiced ease. 

your girlfriend would watch you in admiration, marveling at your intellect and work ethic. she recalled the times when you would fall asleep amidst your textbooks, your head resting on a pile of notes and your hand still holding a pen. lisa would gently cover you with a blanket, tucking you in with a tender kiss to your cheek. if you fell asleep on the couch, she’d just pick you up and carry you to bed with her.

she cherished those moments, the sight of you in peaceful slumber, surrounded by the remnants of your dedication to your education. 

one particular memory stood out vividly in lisa's mind at that moment. 

it was the night before a crucial exam, the air thick with tension and anticipation. you had been studying for two weeks straight for this exam. your brows furrowed in concentration, eyes puffy and red from the mental breakdown caused by the anxiety you were feeling about the exam. lisa had just held you in her arms for a good half an hour as you cried.

lisa remembered how she was going to suggest you take a break, but you simply wiped your eyes and turned back to focus on your flashcards. there was a fire in your eyes, a fierce determination that lisa had always admired. it was a determination that had brought you through countless challenges, and she had no doubt it would carry you through this exam too.

the thai girl prayed for even an ounce of that determination you had from that night to be present in her current moment. as the university came into view, lisa could feel her heart racing. this was it. 

when paying the driver, her fingers fumbled with the bills and she definitely gave him double than what he charged because she didn’t care about counting any of the money out. there wasn’t enough time for that. 

she quickly stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air hitting her face. the campus gymnasium was where the commencement ceremony would be. lisa pulled her hat down further, practically running full speed towards the building at the end of the block. 

lisa's sneakers pounded against the pavement as she sprinted towards the campus gymnasium. her heart raced, not just from the physical exertion but from the urgency of the moment. the distant echoes of applause and laughter reached her ears, a reminder that the ceremony had already begun.

each step she took was a plea for time to slow down, for the universe to grant her a few precious moments to make things right. as she neared the gymnasium, she slowed her pace, trying to catch her breath. she straightened her cap and removed her sunglasses, taking a moment to compose herself before entering. the night air had done little to calm the storm inside her.

the weight of her actions hung heavy, and every heartbeat was a reminder of what she had risked losing. taking a deep breath, she pushed open the doors to the gymnasium. the atmosphere inside was charged with excitement and anticipation. the graduates, clad in their caps and gowns, sat in neat rows, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights. the air was thick with a sense of achievement, a tangible reminder of the years of hard work that had led to this moment. 

lisa scanned the crowd, her eyes searching for you amidst the sea of faces. the fear of not finding you clawed at her, urging her to move faster. the sea of dark blue uniformity didn’t help her either. but she’d recognize you anywhere, blending in blue or not.

finally, her eyes landed on you. you were seated towards the back middle rows, your eyes fixed on the stage, a mixture of pride and determination in your gaze. 

the idol pulled her hat down lower, fearing that she’d cause a huge scene if recognized by anyone. lisa quickly slipped into one of the side bleachers as your section stood up and made way towards the stage.

the pride in your eyes was undeniable, a reflection of the years of hard work and dedication that had brought you to this moment. as you walked, your steps were confident, your shoulders squared with determination. lisa felt a mixture of awe and regret wash over her. 

awe for your strength and resilience, and regret for the pain she had caused you. the applause that filled the gymnasium was deafening as each graduate's name was called. lisa clapped along, her eyes never leaving you. she marveled at your grace, your ability to shine even in the midst of her failures. each step you took towards the stage felt like a step away from the darkness of the past and towards a brighter, hopeful future. 

as you ascended the stage, lisa held her breath, her hands trembling slightly. the pride in your accomplishments filled the room, a tangible force that seemed to push back the shadows of doubt that had clouded her mind. for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the sheer brilliance of your achievements, a glimmer of hope that perhaps, with time, she could be worthy of you once more. 

the moment your name was called, the room erupted into applause. lisa clapped harder, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions. you walked across the stage, receiving your diploma with a smile that could light up the entire room. at that moment, the thai girl’s heart swelled with pride and love. 

she was reminded of just how incredible the person she had fallen in love with was.

as you made your way back to your seat, lisa's eyes followed you, her gaze soft with adoration. she knew that this was just the beginning of your journey, and she was determined to be there for every step of the way. the applause continued, but in her heart, there was a quiet resolve. she would make amends, prove her love, and stand by you, no matter what challenges lay ahead. in that moment, amidst the sea of applause and celebration, lisa made a silent promise to herself. 

she would be better. she would be the partner you deserved, supporting you, uplifting you, and loving you unconditionally. no matter what.

the ceremony continued, but lisa's focus remained solely on you. she knew that the path to redemption would be long and challenging, but for you, she was willing to face any obstacle.

echoes of the ceremony's final applause reverberated through the gymnasium as the graduates tossed their caps into the air, celebrating the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter. for everyone else, it was a moment of joy and accomplishment, but for the idol, it was a reminder of her solemn commitment. 

as the crowd began to disperse, families reuniting with their graduates, lisa waited patiently in the corner, her eyes never leaving you. her cap was lowered, and her shades were resting on her head. she was wearing a mask she snagged from the taxi driver as well, just to make sure no one else would recognize her.

well, no one other than you, of course.

you finished hugging your parents, and over your mother’s shoulder was when you noticed the girl you loved in the corner. at first you thought you were seeing things, but you’d spent too many nights sleeping in lisa’s clothes to not recognize them.

without another second, you ran towards your girlfriend. lisa’s arms opened as she embraced you, hugging you tightly against her chest. tears fell over from both your eyes and hers. it had been months since you two had seen each other, and despite the argument that had occurred just a day prior, you couldn’t care about anything else while being wrapped up in the arms of the idol.

“you came.” you whispered into her chest, tears soaking her jacket.  in the tight embrace of lisa's arms, you could feel the steady rhythm of her heart, a comforting reminder that she was real, that she had come back to you despite all the obstacles and the recent argument. tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with hers, as the emotions of the moment overwhelmed you both.

“anything for you,” the taller girl whispered back, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and remorse. she held you even tighter, as if trying to make up for all the time that had passed since you last saw each other.

“but how? you’re supposed to be performing tonight.” your teary eyes met hers as you looked up at her with confusion. 

lisa brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb gently wiping away the tear stains on your cheeks. “i did what i had to do,” she explained, her voice soft yet determined. “i needed to be here for you, that this was more important than any performance.” a mix of surprise and gratitude washed over you. knowing how tightly controlled her schedule usually was, you understood the significance of her decision. 

“you're my priority, y/n. i've realized that nothing matters more to me than you, than us. i don't want to miss out on the important moments in your life.”

it was a sentiment that resonated deeply within you. the fact that she was willing to put your relationship before her career, before the demands of fame, filled you with a sense of overwhelming love and devotion. 

“but won't there be consequences?” you asked, your concern for her career evident in your voice. lisa cupped your face in her hands, her eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination.

“i don't care about the consequences. i'll face whatever comes my way. i want to be there for you.” the idol pulled her mask down and pulled you closer to her, speaking to you in the most soft and sincere tone you’d ever heard from her. “i’ll fly halfway across the world for you at the drop of a hat. i’d drop my career and my schedule if you called. you mean more to me than anything else.”

her words hung in the air, a solemn promise that washed away your doubts and fears. in that moment, you realized the depth of her commitment to you, the lengths she was willing to go to make things right. 

tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude and overwhelming love. you pulled her into another tight hug, clinging to her as if she was your lifeline, because in that moment, she was. “i love you, lili,” you whispered against her shoulder, your voice filled with sincerity and adoration. 

“i love you too, y/n,” lisa replied, her words muffled against your hair, but the love in her voice was crystal clear. “more than words can describe, and more than i can express.” she added, gently kissing your forehead.

in that tender moment, under the weight of her love and the sincerity in her voice, you felt a profound sense of peace wash over you. the doubts that had clouded your heart dissipated like mist under the morning sun, leaving behind only the unshakable certainty that you were meant to be together. 

“i'd do anything for you,” lisa whispered, her voice soft and unwavering, her eyes gazing into yours with a depth of emotion that left you breathless. “i'll stand by you, no matter what challenges come our way. i'll be your rock, your support, and your greatest cheerleader. you're my everything, and i promise to spend every moment proving that to you.” 

with those words, you knew that your love story had weathered the storm and emerged stronger than ever before. in lisa's arms, you found not just solace, but a profound connection that transcended the boundaries of words and actions. it was a love that spoke in the silent moments, in the gentle touches, and in the unwavering presence of one another.

 “i think i just fell in love with you all over again,” you whispered back, your voice echoing the depth of your emotions. in that shared promise, you found the strength to face the future, hand in hand, ready to conquer whatever challenges life might throw your way. your girlfriend could only smile, because she knew everything she had done was worth it.

the last minute flight, the kid kicking her seat for 10 hours, the chaos at the airport, the fact that she’d get an earful from her company, her phone dying in the taxi and her losing $200 by paying the driver. none of that mattered to her.

none of it except being here with you.

with a tender kiss against your lips, lisa held you close, sealing the promises made between you two. you knew without the shadow of a doubt now, that the world class idol you loved would do anything for you.

no, lisa would do everything for you. and you could only smile against her lips.

because you knew you’d do anything and everything for her, too.

a/n: thank you for 1.8k :) enjoy this bc i know u all have been waiting for it <3

#blackpink #lisa x reader #jennie #jisoo #rosé #blackpink x reader #original one shot #kpop #angst #attention part 2 #perfectsunlight

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Vil+Purple lilac? :))

Vil Schoenheit: 

Purple Lilac - love at first sight. 

This was what Vil would define as a poorly defined twist.

It simply didn’t fit his character. Overall, he was the person who people fell in love with at first sight, tripping over themselves at the beauty and power that radiated off of him in waves. He stood tall and proud, a flirtatious smile for the fans, a teasing remark for the questioning paparazzi, he knew how to play the game and play it well. It was hard, near impossible, to get one over on him and even his fans with all their knowledge of him, his life, and his interests, never managed to throw him off-balance, not even once.

“You looked super cool as that detective’s assistant!”

He had to wrack his brain to even remember the film you were mentioning, some passion project that he had joined because his father was good friends with the director and they needed someone to fill in a secondary role. Vil hadn’t minded because it meant he wasn’t being typecasted as some villain, hoping to show off his acting chops and prove his range. It was a simple role but he had been a showstopper, the reviews rolling in for months after speaking about how his scenes were the most heavily highlighted among articles and reviewers online. He hadn’t thought about it in a long time because in the end, it had been just another stepping stone; it didn’t do much for his reputation in the long run, showing his skill yet still not allowing him to branch out to other kinds of roles.

“Was it easy to steal attention away from the main detective? He really wasn’t bad but the way you look on screen, and the little subtleties you add to your characters… Like the way you’d mess with your bangs when you were uncomfortable, or the way your character would count off on his fingers every time he got upset—Did you come up with all that yourself?”

“I did.” Vil was proud, chin held up, even happier to know that the little things he had worked on had been noticed by you. His stunning looks and powerful presence were all the reviewers had mentioned, not the little nuances Vil had attempted to add into his character. He could probably listen to you talk all night if he had the chance to but— “What’s your name?”

“O-oh, me? Oh, uh…” You stuttered out your online name to him, the last thing you get to say before he’s ushered off with some fellow actors and models into the premiere of another film he had a role in.

He thinks about you the entire time.

The light in your eyes, the excited way you spoke, passion laced in every word, he could tell you genuinely liked the movie and that it wasn’t just to impress him. In a world of people constantly speaking on his sex appeal it was a relief that his acting and the plot was what you were concerned about, though he hadn’t missed the way you had described him.

Striking.

Just like you were.

He discreetly peaked at his phone, typing your name quickly into Magicam to see where your profile was; you were a film geek for sure, a variety of pictures and reviews revolving around media filling his vision as he scrolled through your account. He took the time to read a few during a slower part of the movie, noting that you were quite thoughtful with considering the human side of even the worst kinds of characters. Near the top is a post about him, not the detective movie but another one where he had essentially played ‘the other woman’, and you had written a very opinionated.

‘In the end, Vil Schoenheit is often forced into the same old roles with a slightly different font. It’s a waste of talent and I, for one, look forward to the day directors realize what a gem he truly is. I hope to see Vil in many different kinds of movies in the future, and I’ll try to be at the premiere of every one of them!’

Vil hit the follow button.

He’d never just followed a person like that, not unless they were someone in his circle or a brand who was looking to add him to their payroll. Even then, if they weren’t products he believed in, there wasn’t a chance he’d even look at them twice, so his follow list was a rather short one… But now you were there.

He hoped he could see you before his next premiere.

#Disney TWST #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Scenario #Flower Prompts

[ledalasombra]

The Granddaughter - Chapter 4 - Little reveals

"Media? If he's famous, the paparazzi must have made a mess of the relationship," Tim commented as he took a sip of his coffee.

Alfred noticing the matter, called attention to the preselnce of the two at the door, causing the room to be silent.

"He was a model…" Marinette replied in a low tone when she noticed the silence and everyone's attention on her. "He gave up his career when his father disappeared."

"A pity the boy had to go through that. Adrien is a good boy, and he didn't deserve to lose his father so soon after finding his mother and no matter how bad his father was, the boy should try to keep the good memories…"

"Gabriel Agreste is probably the worst person I've ever met in my life Jagged." Marinette spoke calmly, taking a deep breath "I'm sorry to cut you off, but after I had to take Adrien to the hospital at least three times in less than a year because of the absurd diet his father made him follow and of the countless times he's come to my house hungry because he's gone more than 12 hours without a proper food, I refuse to hear anything good about him."

"Oh Mari I'm sorry. I know you don't like talking about him, it's totally my fault" Jagged tried to apologize but she just shook her head slightly.

"Water under the bridge Jagged, don't worry." She looked at Alfred who rubbed her hand lightly to assure her that everything was fine. "Excuse my rudeness, good night everyone! Mr. Wayne, Damian, it's nice to see you." She smiled slightly, cutting the subject short. "Jagged didn't inform me that we would be coming here today, as usual I'll just find out where I'm going when I get to the place."

"Hey, that's not true.." he spoke with his hand on his chest pretending to be offended

Penny smiled looking at her husband beside her "unfortunately she's right, she only found out when she got in the car. I didn't know you knew Mari"

"Oh! Penny, Jagged, let me introduce you to my grandfather Alfred Pennyworth. He is Julia's father" Marinette spoke with a wide smile and a lot of pride, looking at her grandfather, hugging him from the side. "He is simply the best person in my life. I certainly would not have survived the last 5 years without him."

Alfred returned the hug, lightly rubbing his granddaughter's head. It wasn't common to see him so openly show affection, not that the older one didn't show it in general, but he was very attached to etiquette in front of other people. "You're going to be fine" he spoke softly in her ear seeing her just nod positively. He lightly rubbed her head with his hand, turning his attention back to the couple.

"No way Alfie! How could that be? And I thought I was going to surprise him…."

"Mr. and Mrs. Stone, Mari is my only blood family and, after hearing all the stories possible from her about the interaction between you, I can only thank you for the care you both have taken with her." Alfred told the couple "actually the family didn't know about her existence until yesterday…"

"So let me introduce you to my friend of many years. Bruce Wayne this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Marie from Luck Charm, my fashion designer for the last four years…" Jagged spoke excitedly. Marinette smiled, greeting the older Wayne again.

"It's nice to see you. Jagged has been talking about you and your family for some time now and I can tell you it's nice to be able to put a face to every story. However, I must say I can't put you in most of the situations he described. "

"Should I care about what was said?" Bruce commented smiling and looking towards Jagged.

"Only if I decide to talk about them" Marinette completed looking at Bruce and smiling genuinely.

"Then I shouldn't worry about what Jagged and Alfred say about you. Let me introduce you to my children." He turned around pointing to the others in the room "This is my oldest, Richard Grayson-Wayne…" he said pointing to him.

"You can call me Dick, short for Richard… " Dick spoke cutting off what Bruce was saying. "You really look like Julia. Your mother was an amazing person from what I remember of her."

"Thank you. I don't remember her very well but Alfred always talk about her."

"This is my second oldest Jason Todd-Wayne" Bruce said.

"Oh… you were the guy from yesterday, who talked about the curves… of my motorcycle" Marinette spoke slowly, with a playful smile, which earned a few chuckles from around the room.

"It's a pleasure sunshine… " Jason replied laughing and shaking her hand.

"The one with the coffee is my second youngest Timothy Drake-Wayne" she smiled slightly greeting Tim from afar, where he looked at her a little scared.

"He is fine?" She spoke looking at Alfred and then Bruce

"You're Marie…" he said still on cloud nine "...and Alfred knew all this time?" Tim looked at the older man and only received a slight smile in return.

"It's not a secret of mine to tell master Tim" commented the butler….

Tim approached looking at Marinette in the eyes and then taking her hands. "Marry me?" She looked at him with wide eyes "You're the best designer I've ever seen in my entire life! You're smart, beautiful and Alfred's granddaughter…"

Marinette looked at him desperately hearing Jagged and Jason laugh behind her. She looked nervously at her grandfather who just shook his head. "Um… I don't think that's a good idea?"

"Master Tim, I suggest you sleep after dinner and I'll be clearing out all the coffee until you get a decent amount of sleep…."

Marinette frowned, looking at him sympathetically… "I'm sorry about that…" she said watching him walk away, looking at Bruce who pinched the bridge of his nose in a clear sign of tiredness.

"My youngest, Damian Wayne, who you met yesterday…" the young adult just nodded slightly towards her in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to see you Damian." she smiled slightly towards the boy.

"I'm going to finish setting the table for dinner. If you can all make your way to the dining room, everything will be ready in a few minutes." said the butler.

" Do you need some help?" Marinette asked, looking at her grandfather.

"Don't worry my dear, you are a guest." the older one responded by patting her hand, then moving away. The young woman just nodded, turning her attention to the other members of the room.

"Jagged mentioned yesterday that you moved to Gotham to study, correct? With so many universities in Europe and the region being so well recognized, why come to America?" Bruce asked, seeing the young woman take a seat next to Jagged.

"Actually, it wasn't such a difficult decision. My grandfather lives here, I spent my whole life away from him, for me it was the most logical thing. My parents are great people, but I always missed him by my side." She paused as if thinking briefly about what to say, "Besides, Paris has become a city with a lot of memories that I'd like to leave in the past."

"Hawkmorth left a deep mark on everyone." Jagged completed by speaking seriously for the first time.

"But people are healing, that's what matters. Plus Gotham has one of the best universities in the world which will certainly help me a lot with Luck Charm."

"It must have been pretty hard living all that time under the pressure of not being able to release your feelings in a decent way" Dick commented sympathetically.

"Everyone did what they could to not get akumatized. And those who couldn't or didn't care... people just wished it wasn't so bad." She spoke with a faraway look

"And how it is?" Damian asked, causing her to turn her attention to him, not understanding the question. Dick looked at him scolding him "What's it like to be akumatized?" She looked him in the eyes, but before she even answered, Penny did.

"I don't think Mari is the best person to answer since she has never been akumatized" Penny commented, hugging the young woman from the side.

"There were some very close situations... in one of the most extreme cases he called the akuma back. Not being akumatized is probably the hardest thing to do, but I managed it and I believe meditation and my family at the time were what got me helped. I also talked to Alfred quite often. I think knowing how to address stress and feelings was what helped me the most." She commented with a tight smile.

"I believe it's best that we direct the conversation to the dining room." Alfred spoke completely cutting the subject. Everyone got up, following Alfred to the dining room, not being able to notice some exchanges of glances between the family.

Dinner passed with light conversation about Jagged's tour accompanied by delicious food served by Alfred. Jokes and puns were thrown in during dinner, setting a mild mood, very different from earlier in the evening, where the atmosphere was tense.

“Hey Alfie, dinner was wonderful. I already missed your food, there's no place that can do what you do…” commented Jagged excitedly “I'll invite myself to eat here whenever I'm in Gotham…”

"Jagged... you can't just invite yourself into people's homes..." Marinette commented, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head.

“Oh M, I already do that with Tom and Sabine. You know very well that this is true. Your parents and Alfred are the best…”

“I'm glad you enjoyed the food, Mr. Stone. I suggest you finish your conversation in the living room and I'll bring you all tea in a minute." the butler commented getting up, watching the others leave next. Marinette watched the others leave, gathering some plates to help her grandfather.

“Do you think you can come to lunch with me tomorrow? We really need to talk…” the young woman said gathering all the dishes and taking them calmly to a cart that was in the corner of the dining room.

"I'll be there. Did anything happen besides the pending conversation?” the older one replied looking at her intently, studying her reactions. She looked at him without answering and they were both silent for a few seconds.

“I need to have a breakdown before answering this question, but we can say that the night has not been very easy… The conversation with Adrien was difficult and all the questions today were not very helpful…”

"I'm going to make you some tea to help you relax… In the meantime, we'll talk and you can explain to me what's going on in that head of yours that's always full…" the eldest smiled lightly, heading towards the kitchen with his granddaughter right behind him.

–

"What possessed you to ask those kinds of questions Damian? I think it was clear that Parisians have a hard time with the whole Hawkmorth situation… We're not in an interrogation…" Dick spoke to the younger one when they both fell further behind when left the dining room.

"Tt. It's obvious to me that she knows something… The whole situation in Paris was very closely guarded, we don't have much information about what really happened these years…"

"Damian… Alfred asked that there be no involvement on our part. We all agreed not to delve into her life… "

"I, as an outsider of the situation, was trying to understand what went on in Paris. I wasn't looking at anything in her life… " the young man stopped to look the older one in the eye "I just think from the way she spoke and her reaction, she was involved..."

"Where is she? I didn't see her go by with the others…" Dick asked looking where they came from.

"She was talking to Alfred." Damian ended the conversation and walked back to the living room. He didn't intend to stay long, but he didn't want to be lectured by his father. Dick stopped for a few seconds, going back the way he did earlier and going to the kitchen, where he could hear part of their conversation.

___

"Adrien is trying to convince me to go back to London." She spoke as soon as they entered the kitchen. She was clearly uncomfortable with her conversation with her ex. "My presence wasn't doing him any good grandpa"

He sighed looking at his granddaughter "You need to worry a little about yourself too Mari. You need to be sure of what you want and what you need." He paused, reaching over and holding both of her hands. "Let's try to explain it piece by piece. Why do you think your presence hurts him?"

"He has nightmares seeing me… " she stopped talking closing her eyes “...during the last encounter everything got out of control and…"

"Calm down my love. Take your time…" he rubbed her hand lightly trying to be supportive.

"He thinks that because he couldn't protect me on the last day, because he saw me... he thinks that being by my side is putting me in danger. He pulled away and when he said it was better that we broke up, I ended up accepting it." she opened her eyes letting a tear fall. Marinette was going to continue but before she could say anything, she looked her grandfather in the eyes and stopped, pressing her lips together. "It's better if we talk when we're in a place where no one can hear us…"

"Hum…" the butler paused looking at her "we'll talk better tomorrow, ok?" She nodded.

"I'll understand your calmness about this whole situation as a vote of confidence but I don't like it…" He smiled slightly with the younger girl's sentence moving away. He put the water on to boil in the kettle, watching as she approached and stopped next to the marble cupboard in the center of the kitchen. He walked over to her, holding her hand "Do you trust me?"

"My life and more" she answered honestly and without hesitation.

"Then get that worry out of your head… " he said placing his index finger on her head. Marinette just pursed her lips, looking at him "Worry about what is necessary. I'll be by your side to solve what you need" Alfred caressed her face, seeing his granddaughter nod positively, leading them both to the door right away. As soon as he got to the door, both stopped and Alfred addressed the guy who was on his back playing with his cell phone "do you need anything Master Dick?"

….

Dick returned to the kitchen, stopping in the hallway when he heard the voices of Alfred and Marinette.

"He has nightmares seeing me... during the last encounter everything got out of control and…" 

 "Calm down my love. Take your time…"

"He thinks that because he couldn't protect me on the last day, because he saw me... he thinks that being by my side is putting me in danger. He pulled away and when he said it was better that we broke up, I ended up accepting it." Dick heard Marinette talking, noticing that they both stopped talking for a few moments. He was going to move, but stopped when he heard the young woman continue "It's better if we talk when we're in a place where no one can hear us…"

Dick was standing next to the kitchen for about 5 minutes and he was sure no one heard him coming, so how? He never understood how Alfred managed to sense his presence even when he didn't make a sound in the dark. Even after years he had come to simply accept that his grandfather just managed to be always present. Finding out that her granddaughter could do something similar was intriguing to say the least. Was it a family thing? Dick took the cell phone sending message in the group chat that has only his brothers.

Group Chat: The war zone

The First One

She certainly knows about what happened and from what I understand, so does Alfred.

It's scary how they manage to talk without saying anything...

I think it runs in the family, she knew I was down the hall in less than 5 minutes….

The Best One

I said she knew something. Pennyworth must explain to us later.

Richard was about to respond to the group when he heard Alfred speak behind him. He noticed that the cell phone started to be bombarded with a lot of messages, keeping it in his pants pocket.

"Do you need anything Master Dick?"

"Alfred! I came to get Marinette, she wasn't with the others…" he said smiling gallantly as he looked at the two. Marinette looked him up and down, taking a deep breath...

"And here I thought only Mr Wayne was like that…"

"Marinette…" Alfred spoke in a scolding tone.

"What? Seriously grandpa, Mr Wayne acted exactly the same yesterday… This family is very strange…" she said as she walked a little further ahead and Alfred shook his head negatively at the interaction.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello everyone... sorry for the delay but life is hectic... 

I'm still trying to finish editing the other chapters of "My not so normal little sister" and it's complicated... I won't even start with the others WIPs that are in my head and partially written. thank you for your patience, feedback and a thousand apologies if I forgot to tag someone. And again, english is not my first language, it's actually my fourth so I am so sorry for the grammar mistakes... the goal is always to improve

@fusser90  @night-ngale  @missmadwoman  @prettylittlebutterflie @babylovebug18 @its-maemain @iglowinggemma28 @the-church-grimm @kp-names @iamablinkmarvelarmy​ @starling218  @battybatbat  @atiredartistandacat @serasvictoria02 @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @alice-hazelwood @maybeanalien0-0 @stella17luna  @sknerd101 @kathygene @waffleyunsure @nightfallsthings @taewinterbear95 @occulta-lacrimarum13  @kathygene  @tinybrie​  @kitsun369​  @iglowinggemma28​  @crazylittlemunchkin​  @nightfallsthings  @fangirlingfanatic​  @nightmarewasteland​   @laydeekrayzee  @the-ruler-of-death​ @sarcasticbambi

#marinette x damian #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #maridami #damimari #damian x marinette #maribat #daminette #damianette

[goggles-mcgee]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well! Do you have any head canons about your felinette stories (Moving on, finding home; The haunted Bride, The not-so phantom…) and Marinette, the Rolling Stone? I love all of your stories, specially daminette 😈

Hi! Of course I do! But since you're grouping them for the Felinette, I will focus these headcanons on the felinette aspects a bit! Also I am so sorry for the very late reply. Motivation has been very low 😔

Moving On, Finding Home:

•As Marinette starts to work with Amelie, Amelie decided they should go out for lunch along with Felix, but when they got to the cafe she suddenly had some business to take care of and rushed off. Felix took this as an opportunity to really talk to Marinette and apologize for his behavior last time he was in Paris.

•At first she's skeptical but as he went into detail about why he did it, she feels for him. He told her about the loss of his father and that he knew it wasn't an excuse but he had been hurt and angry. Especially at Adrien and his Uncle. He was surprised when she didn't immediately jump to Adrien’s defense.

•Since he was so willing to be vulnerable and he seemed genuine in wanting to start over with her, Marinette told him everything that had happened at school. At first she had just wanted to explain that her and Adrien weren't friends anymore but once she started talking she couldn't stop.

•After this talk, things work a lot smoother, and Felix actually tags along with his mother when she goes to meet Marinette. Somehow them having lunch became a routine as well, but neither teen complains.

•Amelie adores Marinette and has a hard time not spoiling the girl but she can't help that her love language is gift giving and look...if Marinette is going to be taking on as big a project as she is then of course she needs a new design desk...and tablet since her old one had a chip on the corner...and a new mattress because her little designer needs the best sleep to dream up wonderful designs!

•Felix does try to reign her in, but it's hopeless.

•Tom and Amelie are two peas in a protective-parent-pod. They love talking to each other about their respective child and all they do in the name of that love, like the time Tom threw Marinette’s birthday cake in the trash several times in a panic because he didn't want to spoil the surprise. Tom and Amelie basically become bestie with a fond Sabine watching over.

•Amelie being a Petty Betty and allowing paparazzi to take pictures of her, Felix and Marinette when they are out together (with permission, of course) all so she could show off how cute Felix and Marinette are together but also to rub it in the face of her brother-in-law that she nabbed the very talented designer before him.

•Felix does become the new Chat Noir, but he changes his name to Grimalkin and Adrien, who starts not-so-vague posting on his Chat Noir account on social media that the name sucks and nitpicks about everything of the new Cat Hero.

•The class start to think the reason Marinette has "changed" so much is because of Felix, and they start trying to include her in things again in an attempt to lure her away from the "problem" Lila hates this and tries to intervene but it never works out for her.

•Gabriel is having a rough month, what with Lila Rossi being herself, the Dupain-Cheng girl getting snatched up by his dreadful sister-in-law right before he was going to open an early-experience type of internship so he could keep her close and figure out how to akumatize her but also she did have great talent and it would be a waste if he let her slip through his fingers, then Adrien reveals he and Mlle Dupain-Cheng aren't on speaking terms and to top it all off!!! There is a new cat hero who is actually competent, and that is making being a super villain very hard.

The Haunted Bride:

•Marinette had for as long as she remembers, been obsessed with the Culpa Mansion. Her parents thought it was cute and funny at first, but when she still spoke about it and even spoke about details, she couldn't have possibly known, but when she overheard her parents talking about taking her to a professional or something she stopped talking so in depth about it.

•But she dreamt of it almost every night and keeps a dream journal where she drew a lot of things from her dreams. She has it locked and hidden because she fears if anyone found it, they would think she was crazy, especially her parents.

•Hawkmoth is defeated and in jail, but Adrien did somehow get through it all without being suspected of aiding his father. Nathalie is the one taking care of Adrien since Gabriel took the fall for everything.

•Marinette as Ladybug, decided against Ladybug and Chat Noir revealing their identities to each other. Something just told her not too but she did promise that if Chat found her, she would let him know. Her and Adrien dating kind of happened out of nowhere to her, but then he kept making cat puns here and there, and well Marinette came to the conclusion he was Chat and hat found her. So she made her own subtle references.

•Adrien does not know that she is Ladybug, but she thinks he does. He just started dating her because she reminded him of Ladybug, and while he did start to like her, he was still very much in "love" with Ladybug.

•Marinette starts to realize he actually doesn't know who she is, and it kind of opens her eyes to how he tries to manipulate her. She doesn't think he is doing it maliciously or anything, but she can see how much he values the class and keeping things happy, and she sees that he's doing it kind of subconsciously so he can keep his perceived normal and happiness. It's why he never breaks the peace, even if it's the right thing to do.

•When she wins the trip to the Mansion, Marinette actually exchanges letters with the owner of the Mansion, who happens to be her age, and she thinks that's cool. They become pen-pals and friends, and Marinette is just so happy to get to rant to someone just as obsessed with the mansion as much as her.

•When she and her class go to the mansion, she is already trying to break up with Adrien but that's kind of hard to do when he won't spend any time alone with her like a boyfriend should. She finds out that Lila is the one manipulating him in hopes that he would be charmed by her and fall for her. The girl squad (some of them) are helping her.

•Marinette is almost always somehow left alone, and during those times, she meets with Felix, and they just have a fun time hanging out, and Marinette finds herself falling for him. She only ever meets him at night though but it's when she's with him that she feels the happiest and most clear headed. He keeps her grounded.

•But while staying in the mansion, her dreams come back in such vividity that she starts having trouble determining what reality is and what is a dream.

The Not-So Phantom of the Théâtre du Châtelet:

•Felix is not scarred, nor does he live underneath the theater. The Phantom is a character he plays to manipulate and scare those who seek to hurt the theater and the owner, his mother. He doesn't mind the rumor. He plays into it in the name of protecting his mother and the theater she loves. He also does not care nor mind hurting others to do so.

•He works as a permanent stage hand and sometimes a stage manager since he knows the theater better than anyone. Yes, he did build hidden trap doors and such to help with his time as the Phantom.

•But what started as him protecting his mother and their theater kind of morphed into punishing those he thinks deserves it and if you're thinking his mother would not approve of this or not know what her son is doing, nah. She knows and supports her troubled little man.

•When he first meets Marinette, he immediately realizes what potential she has and is charmed by her almost immediately. They become friends as costume designer and stage hand. But when he sees the treatment of her from her ex-boyfriend and the lead actress, he will do anything to protect her.

•Marinette didn't believe in the Phantom until all these strange events started happening, and she keeps getting roses left in her workshop. She doesn't know how she feels about everything and thinks that makes her an awful person.

•She does have a crush on Felix, and they connect so well, but she also can't help but be drawn to the Phantom when they keep having encounters.

Marinette The Rolling-Stone:

•Marinette meets Felix after her big move to London when she goes to her new private school. Yes, Jagged and Penny enrolled her in a private academy because they feared what people would do if she were in a public school, given all that happened and what was televised.

•It's a school that allows her to work from home sometimes. The excuse that was given was that it was due to her adopted father's work schedule, but in actuality, it was because Marinette told Jagged and Penny about being Ladybug and the Guardian and they agreed she could home-school on days she needed to be in Paris.

•She got adopted into the Quantic Kids group by surprisingly Felix. He just felt like she needed friends, and she reminded him of himself before he became friends with his friends.

•It takes a while for her to trust them, but when she does, she cries over how much happier she is. When she starts getting feelings for Felix she's scared but Jagged and Penny help her through it.

•Felix doesn't know when he fell for Marinette, but contrary to what his friends think, he didn't freak out or get angry or anything like that. To him, it made sense, she made sense...they made sense. So no, he isn't scared of his feelings and is more than determined to prove himself to Marinette.

•Her friends find out she is Ladybug and convince her to let them help. Of course, she doesn't want to, but things are getting worse, and she needs people she can trust. Jagged and Penny are also there to help as well.

•Felix, of course, becomes the new Cat Miraculous Holder and becomes known as Carbonel!

#felix culpa #felinette #felix graham de vanily #ml salt fic #ml class salt #adrien agreste salt #lila rossi salt #goggles ideas #miraculous ladybug #ml headcanons

[foxes-that-run]

2017 Haylor Timeline

Timeline Tag, or years 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023 and 2024.

3 January - Taylor "based in London" (end of Cornelia St period)

5 January - date of Harry’s leak “lately” recorded. Anniversary of clear blue water/rain on window posts which may be their last break up anniversary. He was pictured in London

13 January - Taylor was in LA papped at the the gym in LA. The scenario she told secret session fans she wrote  DWOHT

21 January - Harry goes to LA

22 January Joe in Paris

28 January - Harry in LA

1 February - Harry's Rose Ring maybe at his birthday in Malibu 1 February 2017. Taylor posts a video of her and Gigi singing along to "I Don't wanna live forever" for the first time on the radio, which ‘happens’ to be on Harry's birthday.

5 March - Rose Ring seen clearly at Studio in London.

15 March - Harry arriving NYC with head down

Late March. Behind Album performances likely recorded at Abbey Road, they appear in the documentary in May and Harry was holding Ben’s daughter who looks about 3-4 months. Harry’s hair is also shorter than it was 5 March, a similar cut April 21.

4 April- Taylor recording Rep in Nashville 'to avoid paparazzi'‘. Joe in London

7 April - Sign of the Times released

18 April - Harry’s rolling stone interview where he leaves the table over her name and tips his hat and ex because it’s all for them. Harry possibly shades Matty Healy:

There’s nothing worse than an inauthentic tortured person. ‘They took my allowance away, so I did heroin.’ It’s like – that’s not how it works. I don’t even remember what the question was.”

21 April - Harry on Graham Norton, performs sign of the times and writes Spanish girl that later leaks backstage.

26 April - Harry in Paris for nrj

29 April - Harry is papped wearing the same St Laurent shirt Calvin copied for the Ole music video, on the date Taylor later identified in High Infidelity.

8 May - harry driving in London using phone behind wheel wearing packers hat with Tess ward

9 May - Harry today show with the pink suit when he performs Stockholm. Xander and Jeff there. Harry dating Tess Ward

11 May Tess ward posts a photo of Harry’s kitchen with his cap in and is never seen again

12 May - Harry styles debut released, behind the album released just after. Cute Nick Grimshaw interview with 2 ghosts question

15 May - behind the album released, includes parts of performances.

16 May - Joe and Taylor rumored dating. Harry went on Carpool Karaoke

17 May - Tess ward wore a shirt Harry wore in an interview

19 May - Harry at troubadour ONO. James, Jeff and Xander there carpool karaoke, Harry sang IKYWT in broadcast not you tube.

20 May - Haylor anniversary. Debut one night gig, Stevie Nicks comes, Harry emotional on stage in Landslide with Stevie Nicks. Harry lists LA house, reported on the 22nd, sold in 2019.

5 June - first Joe mention in blinds

15 June - Harry follows Camille on IG, fans abuse her.

20 June - HS stepdad passed away :( H Tess BUA

July - Harry NY in bar with Xander

4 July - Karlie Kloss posts a photo with Kendall in Paris, the internet realises KK is not in the squad. Taylors inflatable slide seen being inflated - but no 4th July party for Taylor. Blind item that Taylor skipped the party because Joe would not do a photo shoot.

14 July - End Game written. Kendall came to Harry's show.

21 July - Harry and Camille seen together, Nick mentions her and she is in the background of a fan photo.

19 July - Dunkirk released

27 August - LAWYMMD video, Karlie not on junior jewels shirt, Kendall tea time reenactment, Katy car crash and she eats a lobster in a cage.

28 August - Taylor deletes instagram

31 August HS releases two ghosts re riding from BTA performances

3 September - Taylor at Abigail's wedding Martha's vineyard.

9 September - Taylor in NY

Sept 2017 – 14 July 2018 - Harry Styles Live on Tour

25 September - Watermelon Sugar written

20 September - Harry LA, Greek Theater, wears same custom Gucci suit as Kiwi Music Video, with roses. Shania Twain comes and posts a photo of them together. Plays 'Still the One' on Kazoo in Grammy Museum interview. Taylor at Cara's London for month

27 September - Harry released Two Ghosts and Girl Crush as a Spotify Single recorded in Metropolis London, and photos of him recording it. Two days before he performed it in Nashville

28 September - Harry wears red in the Radio City music hall, NY plays Story of My Life in full and has an aborted heart kiss.

29 September - Taylor releases Spotify playlist of 70 songs. Anniversary of Harry’s “we don’t need no piece of paper tweet” and Harry’s another man mixtape. Song 7 is Boys, 20 is Liam Gallagher "for what's worth", followed by "miss you". 27 is We don't deserve love, Niall Horan is at 37 "Too much to ask", it also features Ariana Grande, Kesha, Kings of Leon, Bon Iver, 57 is Perfect by Ed Sheeran, the same name as the 1D song. It ends with #70 'She's casual' about a guy falling in love with a fling.

12 October - Taylor in London with Joe's family

14 October - Phoenix - Harry cries during Meet me in the Hallway (1:39). After “I walked the streets all day” before “running with the thieves”. This was Harry's last US show

October - Liam said he saw Harry at the Bowery Hotel “I bumped into him in The Bowery Hotel. He’s been through a rough time recently. God bless him, he was really happy to see me. The funniest thing was we didn’t really talk business. Dunkirk was out and all this was happening, and we just gave each other a big hug.”

20 October - Taylor reportedly likes a post "I’m here to drop some tea listen up and listen good!! Any love song Taylor writes now is about Joe and only Joe. She is so happy and this is about them. And only them. This is confirmed. It's a rule. Joe love songs from here on out, this goes for all of Reputation. No speculating if it is about Taylor’s ex from a million years ago because I promise you it’s not. Joe and Taylor. Happy. The tea has been served."

25 October - Harry performs in Paris, he cries on 'even my phone misses your call' twice in FTDT (1:53 and again 3:30). Taylor was in Nashville for Rep Secret Sessions.

2 November - Call it what you want - Taylor posts home movies

8 November - kiwi video released with Taylor looking kid

11 November - Taylor in NYC

10 November - Reputation released end game radio single on 14th

13 November - blind item that This Is What You Came For was about Harry

17 November - the HS behind the album performances released, first seen in BTA

28 November - Harry performs VS Show, Taylor cancels. New Years Day released as a single 27 November.

10 December - Taylor performs then watches Ed's show with Joe at Jingle Bell Ball London

12 December - Taylor and Joe in NYC

31 December - Joe and Taylor NYE (Toe Twitter timeline)

Continue in 2018

#haylor #Youtube #haylor timeline #2017

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[SIXTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cws: depression, substance abuse

Note: This chapter and chapter 17 will be happening simultaneously whereas Chapter 18 will happen a day after the events of these two chapters.

Cold, you were physically cold. Mentally numb. The situation didn't feel right to you. It didn't feel real. Being holed up in your apartment with nothing but a bottle of alcohol was your sense of normalcy; a fucked up version of normalcy but it made you feel okay.

You weren't okay though. You don't think you'd ever feel okay again, if you'd ever feel loved again.

Twitter had sent a barrage of nice and comforting messages on your recent tweet, which had been a couple days ago, but you couldn't bring yourself to even scroll on your phone. Every time you did, Kenny was there, in some way, a remnant of who he was to you was there.

It may have been in a tweet he sent, he could even be mentioned in a tweet about you, and those stupid fucking twitter threads talking about how "Every time Kenny mistreated Y/n" pissed you off greatly.

Instagram was worse, you haven't been able to stomach the images of him on your feed, having him still up in a weird way.. made you feel sane.

The Kenny who cheated on you was a different Kenny in the photos you told yourself. The Kenny in your feed, the Kenny in your past tweets, the Kenny in paparazzi pictures was YOUR boyfriend Kenny.

Your Kenny wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't EVER cheat.

He wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't.

He did.

Your throat closes up at the memory of last night, of Kyle telling you. Of Kenny desperately telling you to not check Twitter, his I love you's, his sorry's, the hugs the band gave you.

You thought back to how Clyde clung on to you, how he was the last one to leave because he refused to let you be by yourself until you shut him out of your apartment.

How Stan fell to his knees beside you as you finally tried to get up to go home. How he sat with you on the cold unforgiving ground until the feeling in your legs were back.

How Nichole blocked Kenny's number for you, how she called Kenny on her phone and yelled at him for a solid half hour for what he did to you.

How Kyle was the first one to tell you, how he held you so tightly and whispered that it was okay.. you could've almost believed him.

How the band walked you home, how they didn't want to let you go, how they didn't want you to be by yourself.

You felt numbness, you felt despair, you just felt empty. Like your whole world suddenly got mirrored and nothing felt right anymore.

You felt angry, sudden bursts of anger that made you want to destroy everything that reminded you of Kenny and yet as soon as those bursts came they were gone. It was back to being numb and feeling like stone.

You felt sick, from the situation but you're sure in your hazy cloudy mind that the two bottles of empty wine and the third half drank isn't helping you at all either. You weren't even a fan of wine, you just saw the bottles and grabbed them, heading to your room.

You heard your phone go off besides you, probably numerous texts from the girls, probably some from the boys too, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn over.

How long had Kenny been pretending?

Did Kenny harbor feelings for Red prior to you leaving for the tri-state tours?

All those times you had been together since you've been back.. was he pretending you were Red?

When did he fall out of love with you? Why didn't he just tell you?

Why did?

Why would Kenny?

Your thoughts were spiraling and you take another sip of wine, you planned on getting drunk enough to where your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn't make sense of your own self.

Maybe that way you couldn't feel anymore pain..

You just didn't want to feel anymore. It was all too much too handle, the numbness, the anger, the sadness, the self pity, you didn't want to handle this anymore. You wanted an escape.

You downed the glass and poured yourself another.

"I shouldn't.. drink anymore." You thought, a lone logical, smart thought ran through your mind.

You took a sip.

You moved to grab your phone and you unblocked Kenny. You're not sure why, maybe your drunk mind craved him so much despite what he did that you did the one thing you promised Nichole you wouldn't do.

You took another sip.

Kyle sighed, the stress of dealing with making sure money went back to people and solidifying changed dates sucked. He didn't even bother fully solidifying new dates, he wanted to make sure you were fully okay first.

Kyle wanted to do everything for you. Starting with making sure you were okay.

He knew exactly how badly you were hurting.

Well, maybe not exactly, but he knew you weren't doing okay and he felt guilty for not being there right now, especially because he told you the news.

He doesn't regret telling you, he just regrets the consequence of telling you.

Being told news that your boyfriend is cheating on you is world shattering. He knew there was no easy way to tell you, he just didn't want to see you in a world of pain. And so his guilt festers.

The band group chat was silent. Everyone was giving you space but Kyle couldn't help but wonder if that was the smart move. Were you self destructing? Were you lashing out? Were you taking this more in stride and a bit more smoothly?

Did he need to be there for you?

He knew yes he needed to be there for you, but did you want him there? Would you be angry if he showed up? If he made sure you were okay.

You hadn't responded to his texts, anybody's texts for that matter. Which made Kyle a bit nervous. He was scared for you, worried about you.

He was worried about himself.

Kyle pushes the hair out of his face and looks down at the ground. It was no secret to anyone that Kyle had fallen in love with you in high school. He wouldn't be surprised if you even knew that, but Kenny had begun dating you quicker than he could've blinked.

He didn't want to push himself onto you like he was hoping him being there for you meant he was hoping a relationship would start.

He wanted you to heal.

Second guessing himself was self destructive, he got that, he just didn't want his selfless actions to be perceived in a certain way. Especially with the media traction, he knew rumors would start and he didn't want to divide the friend group anymore than it already is.

Kyle sighed.. he'll check up on you tomorrow.

Kenny was at his wits end. He didn't know what to do. He royally fucked up, he knows that, hell the whole world knows that.

People on Twitter coming after him, people on Twitter congratulating him, he felt sick reading those who agreed with his actions. He didn't even agree with his own actions.

He was sorry. He was so deeply sorry and he doubted there was a way to actually get his sorryness across to you.

He didn't want your forgiveness. Kenny was grown enough to recognize this was a mistake that was undoable, that there was no way he could ever come back from this.

Nichole yelled at him at him last night and he soak in every word, everything she said was true. He was lowest of the low, he was a blood sucking leech.

That he didn't deserve you, that you didn't deserve what he did to you.

That he was scum.. that people who are trashy belong to each other and how Nichole 'hopes he and Red have a life they deserve.'

He sighed, he was blocked on your phone. It was the only thing he was blocked on. He still had access to your Twitter and Instagram, even Snapchat was still accessible.

Most of the friend group had blocked him too.

The only ones who hadn't were Stan, Butters, and Tolkien.

Tolkien was out of the country though right now and when Tolkien finds out what's happening he's sure he'd get blocked too.

Kenny groans and turns his phone on and debates sending you a message despite knowing it wouldn't go anywhere.

He does so anyways, pouring his thoughts into one final message even if you won't receive it.

His surprise came from when the message went through.

Ding!

Your phone goes off and you open your bleary eyes to read the message, eyes widening when you realize it was Kenny.

Anger filled your entire being again. How DARE he gets to talk big about how he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

How dare he gets to act like he's a victim in this as well. He could he just text you talking about how he understands how badly he fucked up?

Of course you didn't deserve to be cheated on, who fucking does? Is he serious? You were pissed beyond belief that you couldn't even fathom the stupidity that Kenneth McCormick was.

You quickly typed a response and re-blocked him. Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick was dead to you. You never wanted to deal with him ever again. You shut your phone off and laid back in bed, exhaustion taking over and you let it.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

#we never existed series #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader

[from-memphis-with-love]

Gambling on Your Love - Ch. 5

Summary: A fishing trip. Stargazing. Whispered conversations about the future. And then a home invasion, ransacked apartment, and a stolen diary filled with personal secrets. Meanwhile, Elvis, ensnared in his feelings for Francesca and entangled in his own set of professional obligations, grapples with the revelations from Francesca's past exposed by the media and the looming reshoots for their film. Catch up with the previous chapters here: one, two, three, and four. Word count: 8,100 Warnings: Explicit sexual content; emotional and psychological distress; harassment; media and public scrutiny.

Francesca was an angel in the morning mountain sunlight. It threaded through her hair like his fingers, lovingly and gentle. She murmured something in her sleep, her plump lips parting. She giggled, curling into his chest, her hand splayed over his heart. Elvis could watch her for hours like this, perfectly at rest without any worries in her beautiful head. He stroked her hair and she blew out a breath that tousled his bangs.

There were things he didn’t know how to express to her, things he wanted to just keep to himself until he had the right words. 

Try as he might not to wake her up, she was a light sleeper and roused when he shifted his weight but fell back against the spread of blankets for another round. But not before she sighed his name, reaching limply for him.

They had to return back at some point; he’d promised her it’d just be for the weekend. He wasn’t making her stay if she didn’t want to. He watched her last night, looking over her shoulder from time to time. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the camera flashes in the indistinct crowd. Press? Paparazzi? Had had told no one, trusted his crew. They would never betray him like that.  

It didn’t matter. This moment was theirs, a stolen slice of time he wanted to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Last night, she talked about New York, hinted at him coming to visit her family. The thought scared him. Why? He feared exposing her to his world and the judgments and expectations that would inevitably follow.

They spent another beautiful day here—he’d all but pleaded with her to stay just a little longer. He took her up to the wide mouth creek where the bass were jumping upstream in full view, and she mentioned how some of her fondest memories were fishing on Long Island with her dad during early summer mornings. How her pole would arch and she’d pull back on her little heels until her shoulders were almost touching the ground, determined to reel her catch in. But here, he just held her chilly hand close. Together, they strolled to the water's edge. The creek's clarity revealed the smooth, worn stones below, shimmering under the water’s surface, a ballet of light and drifting leaves.

“Oh, hello, I see you there,” Frannie said, crouching in the shoal and plucking out a tiny red spinel, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. Then she plucked another and another, coming out with a handful of glimmering, wet stones that she held up to the sun with pride. She saw things here that he never would have noticed, right under his nose.

That night, they listened to the haunting calls of owls under a star-filled sky. Frannie, with a blanket draped around her shoulders, rested her head against Elvis. Together, they lounged on the porch, their eyes wandering across the woods where rabbits darted in the shadows at the property's edge.

It was easy to imagine a life here together. If only...

As if reading his mind, Frannie lured Elvis back to reality. “We gotta leave in the morning,” she whispered, even though there was no reason to keep her voice so low. Maybe she didn't want to speak those words aloud, hesitant to acknowledge the end of their domestic bliss and the warm embrace of the secluded mountain down. It almost felt like they were at a crossroads, confronted with choosing to publicize their relationship or continue to keep it low key.

He knew she wanted to play it safe. But he was willing to risk it all, damn the consequences. A flash of Colonel Parker, pissed beyond all reason, blipped in his mind. He was going to be angry as hell that Elvis all but blew him off. He was pretty much guaranteed to get shackled into some cheese-fest of a flick now. The Colonel was big on getting his way, but at least he was leaving the set soon. Not that Elvis wouldn’t be following behind him shortly. He couldn’t stay away from his other engagements much longer.

It would certainly complicate things if their relationship went to the next level. It wouldn’t go unnoticed by the general public for long that the two of them were an item. All the same, Elvis didn’t want to keep sequestering her away and doing private, secretive things. They were nice of course, but he couldn’t even take her to a movie. He couldn’t kiss her in public, couldn’t so much as hold her hand without scandalizing her. Because it wouldn’t be about Francesca alone anymore, it would be about Elvis Presley’s gal pal, the one that broke ten million hearts. 

When they got back, maybe he could make it official, but for now…

“What’s underneath that blanket, Chess?” He teased, brushing back some of her dark hair from her slender neck. She always reacted to his touch like a kitten leaning into petting. Now she purred, turning to him, with her back to the night and her hands clutching the afghan. Before he could register what she was about to do, Frannie peeked it open to reveal a breathtaking set of black lingerie he’d never seen before. He exhaled sharply, raking his eyes hungrily over sheer black lace cups glinting with rhinestones, tied prettily behind her neck. Matching panties left little to the imagination and paired with thigh high hosiery that look as if she’d been poured into them.

Elvis pulled her into him, closing the distance with an impatient yank. She gasped, hands up before they landed on his shoulders. Running her fingers along the sensitive back of his neck, she let the blanket fall completely around her feet, saying in his neck, “Do you like it?”

His mouth was too dry to answer and he had to swallow, the sound high-pitched in his throat. He couldn’t get her close enough to him, but as much as he enjoyed the thrill of being outdoors, something told him he was better off bringing her inside for proper tending to.

She was asking for it, playing a dangerous game dressed like this. She must have packed this deep because he hadn’t caught a glimpse of this when she took things out of her suitcase.

Hoisting her up bridal style with her lithe legs tossed over his arm, he carried her back into the cabin and laid her down by the fire, licking her neck and resisting the urge to leave a bite, make a mark on her. But he couldn’t do that to her until she asked for it, almost like she was now, arching up into him, clinging to him while making the sweetest of noises.

“Ahh… your mouth feels so good,” Francesca sighed, her head tossed to the side, sprawling out her luscious mane. She was too much for him to bear sometimes. 

There was a different energy this time. He wondered if she wanted him fully. When he’d teased her all last night, she’d mewled for more, responding like a dream and coming in his hand. She was made for him and driving him crazy. When he touched her, she flowered, opening up for him and letting him pleasure her. She was such a well-spoken, self-possessed woman. Playful, smart, funny. But seeing her like this, vulnerable and amorous, it was enough to drive him over the edge.

He needed to kiss her, to feel her lips against his. They fit so flawlessly together. She tasted divine, opening her mouth to let his tongue play with hers. She might’ve had experience, but he could tell when he surprised her with something new. When he rubbed her clit slowly with the tips of his index and middle finger—keeping the same pace, even when she squirmed and mewled—he relished in watching her eyes flutter shut. She was enjoying herself, massaging her breasts and setting him on fire. He replaced her hand with his, groping while stroking her through her panties.

Frannie’s face, he couldn’t look away. What a marvel. He couldn’t bear to lose her. A darker part of him wanted her obsessed, thinking of him, needing him, longing only for him. If he consumed her, she’d never want another. He’d always be what she wanted. As of late, his core of desire had been Francesca and only Francesca. Like the goddess Venus, enigmatic and synonymous with sensuality. Her laughter, her scent, the fire in her eyes, her presence left him heated and bothered. She tore him up inside and out and didn’t even need to try to ruin him.

“Fraaaan,” he moaned her name with desperation. He remembered her words from before very clearly. No sex. But what about now? How about just a little sex? If he could just slide the tip inside and show her a good time. Just imagining her tight, sleeved around him made his hips spasm, bucking forward. He nestled between her thighs, feeling them squeeze him, hug him. “I want you more than anything.”

Never had he meant something more. Elvis wanted her so badly it was all he could ever think about. If she was scared that he would hurt her, he needed to show her otherwise, because nothing mattered more. 

But right now, she looked distraught, her enchanting eyes gazing up at him with uncertainty, resolve, desire. He saw it all in her face, the indecision towards taking that leap with him.

“I’m just scared.” She admitted, her voice shaken as she held onto him tighter, burying her face in his neck so that he couldn’t see her ragged expression. “You’re so important to me and I just don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to ruin this. I just... I want us to work.”

He wanted her. It was new and exciting but equally as frustrating, burning for her. The pressure he'd put on her by just presenting his desire was always in the back of his mind, like a mental block he couldn't get past. How far was too far? Was he just driving her crazy too? Maybe she just needed him to make the decision for her.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed into her neck, tucking her snuggly against him. If he riled her up enough, stirred the pot till it was frothing, she'd cleave to him. "Just let yourself go, baby." He meant for those words to free her, unshackle them both. He felt like a young kid sneaking kisses on a girl's front porch, hoping her dad didn't hear the peck of their lips. 

Francesca wanted him. It was in her every sigh and slow blink, in every caress. Her body opened up for him. 

He nuzzled against her breasts, biting the lingerie with his teeth, gazing up at her while he peeled the fabric. Her nipples puckered, her skin flushed with heat. She tasted delicious when he took one stiff peak into his mouth to suckle. Cradling the back of his head, she held him against her chest, the hum of her moans sending vibrations through him. He was rock hard, grinding against her to stem some of the mounting pressure.

Frannie looked a vision beneath him, shaking while he touched her. She'd been waiting on this just as long, just as voraciously as him. He could see the hunger in her eyes. 

There was a pin drop silence when sat up to take off his shirt. He felt cold in the absence of her flesh and pressed back down, feeling their bare skin melding. It had begun to snow outside, tiny shadows falling like rain outside the window. 

Frannie's breath hitched as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. The taste of desire lingered, a sweet and fervent reminder of the moments leading up to this. The room seemed to contract, the world outside fading away as they surrendered to the warmth that pulsed between them.

"When do you ever find the time to work on this, I wonder?" Frannie trapezed her fingers against the taut core of his stomach, darkly dusted in hair. She followed that trail down to his trousers, hooking in to have a peek inside. It drove him wild to see her eyes glaze over and her lashes flutter.

He took her wrist and pressed her palm against his crotch, groaning at the contact. She watched his reaction to her hungrily as she started to rub him, shyly at first before slowly turning bolder the stronger her desire grew. It wasn't her first time seeing it, but she acted like it—gently surprised, brows raised. Daintily, the tips of her fingers touched the swollen head and he hissed, shaft bobbing. She laughed, touching it again, grabbing it when it jumped into her hand.

Elvis wanted to encourage her, he wanted to see her let completely loose, throw caution to the wind. He wouldn't hurt her.

He kissed her, slipping his tongue against hers while she stroked him, pumping him with purpose. His hips spurred with the end of each tug, pushing him further into her tight fist. She held his life in her pretty little hands. 

When he glanced up at her expression, she was a vixen, devilishly enjoying the control she had over him. He'd relinquish it all to her, all she had to do was ask.

When she cupped his heavy stones he saw stars, buckling with a strained groan. She had more passion in her wrist than most women had in their entire bodies. He'd been with women who tossed their hands up and lazily laid back with a placid smile, legs spread while he did all the work. But just her smooth, dry hand was enough to have him shaking and sweating in her arms. She just did it for him; hell, she could probably hit him with a rolled up newspaper and he'd still spill his load.

He'd been dreaming about this, holding her in his arms and taking her like this, hearing her soft cries in his ears, feeling her wrapped tenderly around him like she was scared she'd lose him. If he could have her begging, then he’d know. Maybe she already was in this way.

“Hey,” she gently caught his attention, getting him out of his head. “I’ve always wanted to try something, but I never knew how to ask.”

Frannie bit her lip and her eyes fell to his shaft then back up to his face. He knew exactly what she wanted without her ever having to ask.

He was awestruck, not really knowing how to respond that a woman like Frannie would want to get on her knees and service him like that. She was naughtier than he’d imagined, with willing eagerness to perform. Who was he to curb her enthusiasm?

She rose to a sitting position, tucking her knees beneath her, sweeping her hair out of her face and over her shoulder. Scooting close, she took him in her hand, stroking the thick underside vein with her thumb, whirling the pad of her finger. He shuddered, watching her slickly massage a welled-up bead of glistening natural lubrication into his broad crown.

“Frannie—,” he uttered her name like a curse, his hips shooting forward like an untrained virgin. Her breasts were pushed into his chest. He could feel her heartbeat pounding while she gazed at the stroke of her hand. Then she began to humble herself low, low, lower until his cock was poised at her fine red lips and he felt a bundle of heat at his spine, tightening his chest, locking his jaw. He could forget how to breathe.

Her pink tongue darted out first, tasting him, humming like she enjoyed it. His shaking hands fell onto her lush hair. He couldn’t resist the urge to feed her more. With her hand wrapped snugly around the base, pumping him in quick strokes while she flicked her tongue, his toes curled. She was going to suck the life out of him. Taking him halfway, he had to warn her that he was going to embarrass himself if she didn’t ease up.

The look on her face, wide eyes peering up at him beneath her lashes, was enough to push him over the edge. He couldn’t stop thinking about her climax first. If he wound her up, had her trembling in his palms, she would beg for it then.

With so much left that Elvis wanted to do to her, he nudged her back so that he might return the favor and spread her beneath him just like he’d fantasized about; lots of cold showers and tented bed sheets spent thinking about her luscious body. She was so perfectly made for him, fitting in every way. 

With nimble kisses, he worshiped her long legs lovingly as he draped them over his shoulders, peering deep into pink, feminine flesh framed by a thatch of dark, wet curls. She was so erotic. At first he thought she was trying to cover herself out of modesty, until she began to play with herself. He was stunned, watching her take her delicate middle finger and push up against her clit, swirling it lazily while watching him with those sweet eyes. From this close, he could see her walls flutter, pleading for something to cling to. He touched her before feeding one digit inside and devouring her throaty cry. She was blistering hot, tight and convulsing around him. He stirred, feeling her clamp hard enough to bruise and his cock twitched. He wasn’t going to make it out alive.

Never had a woman aroused him so thoroughly. He was in a fever dream of lust, greedily grabbing the flesh of her thighs while he parted them further. He moved away her hand, telling her hoarsely, “Let me.”

She nodded, obliging and completely melting against him. When his mouth met her inner thigh, she sounded shocked, inhaling sharply, back arching as she grabbed a handful of his hair. He must be doing something right. Sticking to her own rhythm, what she’d displayed moments ago, he kissed a trail to her secret spot. Finally, he gave it to her nice and slow, pushing hard on her and not letting up, not slowing down but not amping up the pace. He was going to draw this out until she whimpered for him, or until he was whimpering for her— whichever happened first was no consequence to him. He was finally going to have her. Finally make love with his Frannie.

As his tongue worked tirelessly on her clit, he gave her a second finger, curling them ever so slightly to stroke her from the inside. He watched as her hips rose to meet him, grinding rhythmically to catch his tongue against her. She was adorable with her eyes squeezed shut and her brows knitted together. Her hands traced the silhouette of her body, like she followed the flow of charged energy coursing through her. Her moans threaded into melodic sound, music to his ears. Until she wasn’t even making a sound, her mouth opening on a noiseless cry. He felt the greedy tugs of her orgasm on his fingers but he denied her—taking them from her in one cruel motion.

“Noo—!” She whined, grabbing for him, her hips thrusting up. “Ah! Why’d you—why’d you stop?” Her pout was precious, stray strands of ebony hair blown across her flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes.

Elvis smirked. Because he wanted her to be atavistic, mindless for it. Undeniably his. His look must have said it all because she spread herself with her fingers and asked him, “Please, Elvis.”

His mouth ran dry. “Please, what?” He had to hear her say it. He was starving but he’d been patient; she was worth his lifetime wait for. But he was tired of Everything But—he wanted her body to remember the shape of his. 

When he adjusted his position so that his hips were wedged between hers, he swept back her hair and kissed her. Luring it right out of her.

“Fuck me.”

She didn’t need to ask him twice. He was going to give her every piece of him. He would worship her, with this, his first act of prostration.

“Francesca…” He said her name the same way he’d say “I love you.” She must have felt this, too, as she cradled his face in her loving hands, sweeping her thumbs along his cheeks. When she kissed him, he could feel every bit of her affection poured into the press of her lips. Never had he felt more adored, more loved in his entire life than when she looked at him.

He guided himself to her core, felt the giving wetness between her plush thighs. A crueler part of himself said to indulge and to hilt deep with one slam, groan hotly in her ear about how tight she felt. He could feel himself drawing up before he’d even wedged the head inside and all of her delicious sounds were not helping his restraint. Her pussy was melting around him. He couldn’t move without moaning loudly. 

“Ah hah—” His hips buckled and he saw his life flash before his eyes. 

Frannie’s body felt so good in his hands, he couldn’t get enough of her. Inch by decadence inch he managed to plunge to the base, but any movement and he was a goner. Now with her wringing him, her legs hugging him into her, he couldn’t stop his hips. Pulling out midway only to sink back in felt like raw heaven, his head rolled back and he did it again and again, luxuriating in the silken slip. In and out, he was pushing harder than he ought to, his thighs slapping against hers with a quickness. He somehow managed to slow his roll and isolate all movement into just the gyrating thrust of his hips. Now he could really fuck her in earnest, string out her wild moans and make her his—all his.

Francesca couldn’t keep up with him. He was voracious. Kissing her here, groping her there. Now he was making desperate love to her with such intensity that she thought she might faint. Her legs clamped around him, her ankles locked behind his back. She gripped onto his broad shoulders, inhaling his scent mingling with hers.

She was so full of him she thought she might pass out. 

In truth, she’d every intention of giving this to him the night before—but something made her choke up. That something might’ve been her fear of commitment. Commitment to the wrong man. Although, in every single aspect, Elvis Presely so was the right man for her. He was charming, funny, generous, smoldering, spontaneous. Everything she could ever ask for not just in a lover but a companion—a friend. He meant so much to her. And that’s why she was terrified of becoming another notch in his belt, another fun fling for him to conquer and cruise somewhere else. 

She’d agonized over her own indecision. To her, sex certainly could be fun. To her, sex was just another coupling activity that lovers joined to deepen their bonds. She respected the sanctity of marriage but to say she wasn’t a modern woman in every sense of the word would be a slap in the face to her religious mother, God rest her soul.

If she could strip away her titles to just be Francesca Ferrara, not an acclaimed actress and singer, but just a woman consummating her affections for someone she cared deeply about… well, she would have been getting up to something like this a long time ago with him. Of course she wanted him. He plagued her dreams, infected her fantasies. So many nights she’d turned to hug a pillow with one of his shirts in lieu of his warm, hard body. For too long she’d denied herself and him this most basic of human necessities. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t an even trade for fame if it meant she could never make the mistake of falling in love.

Like this, with Elvis above her, inside of her, all else fell away in his embrace and she felt safe in this decision, to give him this trust. To give him her heart, body and soul.

I’m in love with you, Elvis Presley, she thought but did not say. Instead, she conveyed it in long, slow kisses while he made love to her. He never lost his gentleness, even in his unhinged foray where he couldn’t seem to get into her quick enough. 

The passion in the press of his body set her on fire and she cleaved to him. They were moving in tandem, her hips rolling up to meet his. Tension pooled white hot in her belly. He felt her tighten up on him and got that evil look on his face again, that wicked smile that said he knew exactly what she wanted, but he wasn’t going to give it to her yet.

“Hold me,” Frannie whimpered, digging her nails into his back, making marks along his spine. He happily obliged, enshrouding her in his sturdy arms, lifting her up so that she was nestled in his lap while he drilled into her. She couldn’t string together a coherent sentence let alone a thought. Heat washed over her in waves until she was burning, holding onto him for anchorage as her climax spiraled. 

What happened next was entirely unprecedented, planned or even warranted and she’d probably be regretting it heavily every second afterwards. He didn’t ask, but she wasn’t about to refuse. She couldn’t release him if she wanted to. Her body was moving all on its own accord, giving either of them little reprieve. 

“Elvis,” she panted, kissing him, keeping him in her arms, locking tightly around him. There were spots in her vision, she couldn’t see clearly when the pressure began to climb. A rush of warmth flooded her veins, she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. He was fucking her deeply, crooning to the rafters. Gripping her, shoving hard, she felt him swell inside of her.

His fingers laced between hers and he kissed her, pouring into her in shaky thrusts. So much that it spilled, trickling messily between them.

He was gasping, his mussed hair all out of place, the apples of his cheeks in full blush, a lackadaisy smile plastered across his handsome face. Perfection personified, handmade just for her. They were bound for one another, this she knew.

The regret didn’t knock, but he did apologize to her while kissing her damp forehead, “Frannie, ‘m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

She didn’t need an apology when there wasn’t any wrongdoing. She’d wanted that just as badly as him. Even still, with her body thrumming from a toe-curling orgasm, she wasn’t fully satisfied yet. And by the looks of the snow steadily piling up outside, they were going to be here for a while longer.

They had nothing but time and a lot of physical catching up to do. She was kicking herself for not allowing herself this so much sooner. She’d been abstinent, damn near chaste, trying her best not to think about his lean hips on set gyrating between her legs instead, or those hands that tickled the ivories and plucked the guitar, making her sing instead.

She sighed contentedly, opening her arms to him and letting him lay his handsome face across her bosom. He was sweetly vulnerable like this, his ear cupped over her heart. He held onto her breast and breathed evenly, going still and quiet until she almost thought he’d fallen asleep.

The heaven’s themselves hadn’t ripped open. There weren’t paparazzi at the window snapping candid shots. Her agent wasn’t beating down the door demanding to know where she’d gone off to. The world wasn’t going to end because she let loose and enjoyed herself. He wasn’t a fling. He was her loyal heart, even if only for a little while. 

Frannie might be in love with him, but she wouldn’t let him know that. Maybe it was selfishness, or maybe just raw competitiveness—but she wanted to hear him say it first, full and true. But if she was being honest with herself, at this point, she might not even need to hear it. Because she felt it in every gift, every kiss, every lingering glance.

That night, they laid out under the stars on the deck and made love. They made love in the jacuzzi. On the kitchen counter. The living room. The bedroom. She was fed in excess every bit of passion that she’d been fasting. No one had ever been so attentive with her body, with her needs before. It was almost frightening how well he touched her. Like he knew exactly what she needed to push her over the edge. She got wet so easily for him, a quivering mess in his hands with just a little kissing and deep petting. He took full advantage, letting it fluff his ego how readily she accepted him.

When the next morning crested and the frost finally melted enough for them to safely travel the roads, Francesca and Elvis loaded up, making the long trip to Vegas. Where the road seemed eaten up twice as fast as the journey up the mountain. She was going to miss the mountains so much. They had to come back in the summer. 

Francesca felt refreshed for the first time in years. She'd hardly slept at all while on their lovers’ jaunt, but she was glowing, absolutely primed and feeling adored to the maxim. Riding home to her apartment, she felt like a new woman. He wanted her to come with him to Los Angeles on weekends. It was exciting, but she didn't know what to think about it. It would put her closer to him, but it would take her away from what she'd grown familiar with—not including Elvis Presley. Who was in himself a pretty tempting offer.

Her doorman greeted her with a tilt of his hat, cufflinks glinting. 

"Ma'am. We tried to reach you but when we called your agent he didn't know where you were either."

She looked at him, puzzled, her smile dissipating somewhat. Now she had a bad, looming feeling blanketing her.

"What's wrong?"

Bennington bit his lip, shifting his weight. "When I went to feed your cat, she was hiding terrified in your closet. That's when I realized she was scared because… someone broke in, Ms. Ferrara. It's ransacked a—a bit," He floundered, stuttering when her expression fell to horror.

"Oh my God." This couldn't be happening. "Well, what did they take?" Not that Bennington would know everything she owned. Things she had bought with her own hard-earned money. Things she'd been lovingly gifted from Elvis. 

"That's just it, ma'am. A… a lot of things are broken. Picture frames, windows—but we've had them fixed and after the police came, well, they said it was okay for us to start picking up the pieces again but as far as they could tell, nothing was taken. Your jewelry box was open but all the little velvet indents were accounted for."

A cold realization struck, pitting in her stomach like a bad seed. 

"Everything was just kind of," he rolled his hand, "trashed. Like someone was just trying to make a mess." He winced, sensing he was just salting the fresh wound. 

"I can't believe this," Frannie trailed, numbly stepping past him but still thanking him for taking the time to tell her. "I appreciate it, Bennington."

"No need to thank me, ma'am."

The sweet girl behind the front desk had a pitying look as Frannie went blazing by, pushing the elevator button until it whisked her up towards her violated apartment. The door belied total chaos as when she made her way inside, she could see the true devastation that'd been wrought. Bless Bennington’s heart for trying to rearrange things once more, but whoever had broken in had taken a knife to her beautiful French settee. It was gored like a stuck pig, bleeding feathers and cotton. It was a tragedy, and it only continued to worsen. Every frame of every photo was broken, the glass cracked or missing entirely. Her shag carpet had been rolled up in the corner with a coffee filter taped to it that read "Glass inside.”

Her kitchen had been methodically destroyed: copper swiped from her oven and from the counter backsplash, the crystal fixtures shattered one by one. The trash was empty and when she checked inside the barren fridge and pantry, she understood why. The intruder must have destroyed her food as well.

Her bed was stripped, the walls were cut and painted with words. TRAMP. WHORE.

Frannie had to sit down, avoiding the spears that'd once been her four-poster bed frame, fit for a queen with pretty lace hung up, now all in shreds. She didn't bother looking in her closet, but she could see most of its contents spilled out into the floor, drenched in red paint. 

This attack had been personal.

And she didn't know why the thought crossed her mind, as she hadn't touched it in a few months, but she checked her surprisingly untouched bedside table and slid open the drawer. Her heart sank. Her diary was gone.

She checked again, fishing around in the unfinished wood but grasped nothing. The culprit had made sure to not take anything of conventional value so that the police wouldn't be obligated to get involved any further.

Looking at the scrawls of hate on her walls, she had to wonder if a jilted lover could have been the one to do this. But the timing and the explanation seemed too convenient. Just when she was going away for a clandestine vacation with her secret romantic interest, someone breaks in through the fire exit, absolutely trashes the place, scares her cat shitless, breaks anything of sentimental value, doesn't take any jewelry, luxury clothes, shoes, or handbags, but steals her diary. Her most personal thoughts all laid out from childhood to well, probably right around the time she started filming for Gambling on Your Love.

There were things in there that even her sister Connie didn't know, things that she wasn't ashamed of, but knew could tarnish her reputation. Things were different when she was younger and one of the easiest ways for a girl to make money in show business at the time was to perform at Burlesque shoes. Something she wasn't exactly proud of, but she damn sure wasn't going to be shamed for. It had fed her and her family when she sent money back home. She'd established connections and it was Dominick who'd been the final rung in her ladder to step her into the big leagues. Her first radio commercial changed everything. It'd been that shining beacon, that ray of sunshine, that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Fantasy made fiercely palpable reality. To have it threatened by the biases of ignorant men and women who had no idea what it was like growing up hard, it enraged her.

She stood up and looked at her fractured reflection in the broken cheval glass, resolved to find answers. But first, she was calling a painter. She'd always wanted a mural on her bedroom wall anyway.

*

Elvis couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her again. He was hours away from her in LA but nothing an overnight trip couldn’t fix. He called her every night. It’d only been three days and he was planning the weekend with her. They had a press junket the next Tuesday and maybe being pent up to hell wouldn’t be the best covert look for an on-screen interview. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he’d started collecting newspaper clippings of her, articles that mentioned her, any snippets he could get a hold of. He kept them in an envelope. He just liked them.

Colonel Parker was furious he took a trip and with Frannie no less, but that ire must have settled somewhat. He wasn’t making calls or trying to worm Elvis into another shoddy movie with a slapped together script. 

The boys liked it more in Los Angeles. They knew the town better, and even without Elvis glued to them, they were afforded more respect. He wanted their opinion on something. Would it be too soon?

When his phone rang, he answered quickly, expecting, hoping to hear Frannie’s voice on the other side. It was too early, however, and she was visiting a friend in town. It was a woman, but her voice wasn’t all that familiar. Brisk and raspy, through the receiver he heard, “Presley? Elvis Presley?”

“Who’s calling?” He asked, switching the phone to his shoulder to cut bananas for a sandwich.

“It’s me! It’s Cassandra! Your agent’s not an easy man to get in contact with. But I knew I had your personal laying around!” She said in a lurid, sing-song voice. “Okay. Shitty, awful, just terrible news. Well, for me. Not really you guys. You guys get paid again. Hmm. Well, listen, I’m going to need you to come in for a few reshoots.”

“Reshoots?”

“Nothing major, we just need a few transitional scenes. We do need you and Frannie to…” She paused. He could hear her flinching when she said, “Reshoot the casino duet.”

He tossed his knife haphazardly in the sink. He and Frannie had been on fire that day, filming in one clean take. She’d been an angel on set. No need to edit her in post. And now? When he didn’t answer right away, she laid it out bare. “Something happened to a few rolls of film. Thankfully mostly filler got damaged, but it looks like someone tried to…” She trailed, almost like she didn’t want to say it. “Tried to hack it up. My poor baby! Ahh, but what’s art without some sacrifice, right? With all the shit that happened on set,” She inhaled her cigarette, “It’s a wonder we even finished filming.”

“Guess we didn’t,” he teased. There was undeniable excitement in the chance of working with Frannie again, but it was tainted with a twinge of concern. Cassandra was right. Sometimes it amazed him too. He’d heard of greater walking off sets for less. “I’ll be there. When do you need me?”

“Honestly, as soon as possible, but, Francesca hasn’t answered my calls yet. Hm. But, I’ll keep calling her. It’s a pleasure talking hearing from you. Can’t wait to see you again!”

“You, too, Cassandra.” Odd. Usually Dominick made Francesca’s correspondence very accessible. She liked to give everything a chance. Each commercial, endorsement, and role, she meticulously went over the script to see if there was enough value she could gather out of it for herself. She told him she didn’t just want to be in movies, she wanted to star in films. Just like him, really.

He told her that next time they got together, she was going to have to show him every strange black and white foreign film that she liked to watch. He could find value in these things together with her. To say she occupied his thoughts was an understatement. Elvis was infatuated, hook line and sinker. He couldn’t come up for air if he tried, not that he wanted to be anywhere else but falling for her.

Eating his breakfast and flipping through the morning paper—he usually avoided the tabloids, but recently he’d been hunting for Frannie’s name and when he spotted it on the way to the comics—his blood ran cold. But still, he stood up from the table and found a pair of shears. Carefully, he cut out a rectangular article.

Unearthed Confessions ROCK Hollywood’s Darling in Shocking Revelations!

Las Vegas, Nevada - You wouldn’t believe the enigmatic Francesca’s Ferrara’s diary, brimming with tawdry secrets from her rocky past, unleashed to the world! The adored starlet may have tried to leave her gritty origins behind, but her words reveal all! She ignites a media frenzy that threatens to engulf Tinseltown!

Elvis scrubbed his face in his palm, reading over his hand, the words falling like spilled ink, running tracks in his mind. 

Raunchy burlesque Past Revealed!

Mouths are agape at the juicy tidbit that the beloved starlet and songstress once dabbled in the sultry world of burlesque in her early days. She may dazzle under the spotlight, but the pages of her diary tell all her seductive past. Sources say the young actress took to the stage as an alluring dancer, captivating audiences with her body. Was this a calculated step in her journey towards stardom or a torrid secret that could spell disaster for her pristine image?

He set the slip of paper down and contemplated the whirlwind of emotion. Diary? Burlesque? Why had she never told him this? Was she embarrassed to tell him? Scared? Did she know her private thoughts were out there for everyone to read? He couldn’t believe this. Someone must have—must have bugged her apartment or paid a friend for information. It made his stomach churn to think of what she must be feeling right now. And knowing they had a press conference in just under a week, she had to be out of her mind with worry right now.

It didn’t matter how many times he tried, she wouldn’t pick up. He was starting to think the worst. She’d sounded different on the phone when he talked to her the night before, distant, like she was trying to hide something. Maybe she hadn’t wanted him to know, she must have her reasons. But he wouldn’t judge her. Never. 

If she needed another reason to put her trust in him, it would be this right here. He needed to tell Red someone was messing around with Francesca. They were going to get to the bottom of this and find the little rat that did this to her.

*

She was in a maelstrom. On one hand, Dominick was at her behest, trying to assuage any misgivings she had about returning to her apartment. He posted a bodyguard outside her door and apologized for not having done so sooner. Once filming really wrapped up and the movie hit the big screen, time would only tell if she needed to relocate. She hadn’t been covert about where she lived and she didn’t like the idea of living in a gated community; she liked her apartment. But even with just advertisements out to the public, some evenings Francesca would be met by the eager fan with pen and photo for her to sign, and she’d wonder how they knew which apartment building was hers. Maybe it was time for her to go back to New York.

To say she was on edge would be an understatement. And her poor cat was in an absolute fit, still refusing to come out of the closet for anything other than to use the litter and have dinner. It was depressing, sitting in her home still hollow with destruction. She refused to give her things up so quickly, it was her right to grieve them. So be it, if she wanted to sit on her broken settee with a spring jabbing her thigh. It was the first furniture purchase she’d ever made.

She did not want to go out, she did not want to answer the incessant ringing of her phone and horribly so, she did not even want to talk to Elvis. He would hear the dread in her voice and sniff her out in a moment. For all she knew, the press could have gotten hold of her diary. She’d come to the conclusion that that was the reason it’d been taken. Someone wanted to make money off her secrets—or simply to make a mockery of her. She couldn’t bear to turn the radio on or check this morning’s paper. 

But eventually, she had to leave for something. There were no groceries and most of her toiletries had been flushed down the commode. Pallets of makeup cracked and strewn. Her bathroom was a crime scene. At least the painter was coming today, she wanted a nighttime mural of the Nevada desert. Dark orange plateaus jutting up towards the opaque, star-studded heavens. Slowly, things were being replenished. She wouldn’t let this animal make her uncomfortable in her own home.

The phone was ringing, louder than the Bing Crosby record spinning on her new record player. She couldn’t go without music in the drab emptiness. The lack of furniture made it echo so much more. She stared at the pink bakelite, wondering who it could be and if she had the strength to talk to them. But she didn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about anything right now other than what her next move was.

Frannie dressed hastily, donning a head scarf and shades, and as soon as she stepped foot out of the lobby, she instantly regretted her decision. Bennington turned to her with teeth bared in a grimace. Behind him were a drove of a dozen or so members of the press. Casual as they could be when they were all incidentally grouped together, cameras slung around their necks, worn out notepads in their greasy pockets. She froze. Flight or fight response thrummed in her ears. 

“I told them not to bother you, but the most I could do was keep them outside, Ms. Ferrara. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s quite alright. Thank you, Benny,” she whispered, giving a watery smile. “And haven’t I told you time and time again to call me Frannie? You’re one of the last chivalrous men, I swear.” She glowered at the hounds waiting outside, licking their chops. They spotted their prey and although they’d ran her up a tree, they appeared more than willing to wait outside. She knew that she did not owe them a second of her time. She thought of how her words could be misconstrued. Clearly, that’s what they were here for. Never had that many gathered outside of her apartment. As much as she’d liked to attribute it to the movie’s buzz, she knew that whoever had stolen her diary had sold its contents to the highest bidder. 

The idea struck her and perhaps it was a foolish one, but she wouldn’t be bullied. Frannie was undaunted, her shoulders rolled back, her head held high. She marched right out the doors and onto the sidewalk, feeling sunshine on her face breaking through the clouds. It was cold, blustery. The wind whipped her hair from beneath her scarf.

Instead of letting them swarm her, she set out to do her grocery shopping. She had errands to run that were more important than whatever gossip they wanted to print. So, she strutted down the way, fixing her hair and walking without a care while they hurried after her, snapping their photos and screeching. She could hear their loafers scuffing the cement as they pursued.

“Ms. Ferrara! Ms. Ferrara! Were you really a burlesque dancer or are these just rumors from someone claiming to know you?”

“Ms. Ferrara! What do you want to say about the rumors that you and Elvis Presley are romantically involved? Some are saying they spotted you two out on dates together. Is there any reason you don’t want to go public with your relationship?”

Gee, I wonder. Francesca wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She wielded her anger beautifully and didn’t let it embitter her; rather, it fueled her. She stopped in her tracks and acknowledged the aphids swarming, their blunted pencils at the ready to scrawl down each and every word. Her photo was snapped from all angles, capturing the moment forever. She lowered her shades and locked eyes with the lens. Unabashed.

“Gentlemen,” she cleared her throat. “There isn’t a girl in this country–no, this world–who hasn’t had a past. Anybody who tells you otherwise is lying. So, to answer your question, yes. I’ve had my fair share of challenges, just like countless others. But that does not define who I am today.” 

Francesca felt her words ringing out. She would not be backed into a corner. She would not be made to feel lesser than. She turned on her heels and started down the block. With serene grace, she bid them adieu. “And if you want to print the real story, I was a cocktail waitress, not a dancer. But even if I were a dancer, I still wouldn’t be ashamed. Now, if you will excuse me. I do have places to be.”

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis fic #gambling on your love

[talkinfanfic]

Episode 306 - Talkin’ U2, Bono, and Bedge with Tory from the Retro Fanfic Retrospective Podcast!

Sara welcomes the great and wonderful Tory, best known for their reliably insightful analysis of fanfiction on the Retro Fanfic Retrospective podcast (found wherever you get your podcasts!) Tory shares their lifelong love affair with the legendary band U2, and their knowledge of the band’s history and music. Tory also digs into the amazing feat of how the band’s joyful, sublime chemistry seeps into the very music they produce, sustaining fruitful artistry for nearly fifty years. 

Other topics include: Irish history, and the Christianity of U2, along with comparisons with Oasis. We also talk Bedge and RPF! And we dig into a mini-RFR discussion of likeamadonna’s Bono/Edge fanfiction within a fanfiction, “Fictitious Characters”.

🎧 Find Talkin' Fanfic on your favorite podcast app such as Spotify or Apple Podcasts. Or stream Episode 306 here!

Show notes below the cut 🧡

Contact and Credits:

Intro Theme: Kyle Laurin "Oasis Supersonic Theme" (Twitter: @cobrakylemusic)

Clip used - Noel Gallagher on The Late Late Show | RTÉ One 

Outro clip - “Beautiful Day” by U2, from the album ‘All That You Can't Leave Behind’ - pulled from Youtube licensed via UMG (on behalf of Universal-Island Records Ltd. ℗ An Island Records recording; ℗ 2000 Island Records Limited

Tumblr: talkinfanfic.tumblr.com 

Instagram: @talkinfanfic

Email: [email protected] 

Time caps:

00:00 - Introduction

06:03 - Start of episode

16:02 - Tory’s music background

24:25 - U2 in bloom right now!

35:06 - A little Irish history 

45:19 - The Troubles, a climate for the formation of U2

56:03 - U2’s Bigness, America, and ‘What is Bono??’ 

01:02:45 - Bono’s useful celebrity, vs individualism of Oasis. Or, “do-gooders” vs “do-badders”

01:08:22 - Bono the Energizer Bunny, and U2 in Vegas

01:13:07 - The other members of U2 (Larry, The Edge, and Adam)

01:20:35 - Christianity and U2

01:31:45 - Religion, U2 vs. Oasis

01:34:50 - Religious imagery in the Achtung Baby-era, and Bono’s ‘characters’

01:41:42 - U2 fanfiction and RPF fandom

01:51:20 - “Fictitious Characters”, by likeamadonna

02:02:26 - Fitting Ali into the Bono/Edge

02:07:20 - Start of Rapid Fire! (which lasts nearly an hour, lol)

02:12:27 - Tory’s Top 5 U2 Tracks

Episode References

U2 Fanfiction.com (Tory mentions they used to read fanfiction from this now defunct archive; link via Wayback Machine) 

The Retro Fanfic Retrospective podcast (Podbean, you can also search for it on Spotify or Apple Podcasts)

Link - Band bio, from threechordsandthetruth.net great U2 overview and biography

U2: The Origins Of The Biggest Band Of The Early 2000s a decent youtube documentary on U2

A live performance of ‘Until The End Of The World’ from ‘Achtung Baby’, filmed during the US leg of the Zoo TV tour in 1992. Kiss for the camera at 2m34s <3 

"One" - U2 Music Video (Anton Corbijn Version) feat. Bob Hewson, and U2 in drag! 

Bono interview with NPR Podcasts -  at 14m46 Bono starts speaking about the concept of ‘Surrender’. “Shut up and listen…is kinda where I’m at.”

Noel Gallagher on The Late Late Show | RTÉ One  - “Who puts the batteries in that guy??” 

Youtube Clip - Noel Gallagher, on U2 (for NME) 

 “Electrical Storm” - U2 Music Video directed by Anton Corbijn (starring Larry!)

Photo via Pinterest - Liam and Bono kissing. According to Bono, Liam had a guitar pick in his mouth and dared Bono to try and retrieve it in front of paparazzi. The photo was printed in a 2002 issue of Rolling Stone.  

Reprint of article - “When Oasis Hit the Road with U2” The Daily Telegraph, June 26, 1997

Bono’s ‘characters’ - Here is MacPhisto making a phone call to a taxi to take him home. This was in Syndey, Australia during the 1993 Zoo TV Tour.

Retro Fanfic Retrospective - Special Episode - Fanfiction Hypothesis The RFR crew discuss…what is and what is not fanfiction? (Spotify link) 

Fic discussion - "Fictitious Characters" by likeamadonna (Ao3 link)  

Bono and The Edge - NPR Tiny Desk Concert (2023) Bono asks Edge to “do an Edge thing!”  

Bono and The Edge - BBC Radio 2 Piano Room (2023) Bono and the Edge vibing together through a string-laden performance of classic U2 songs. Bono serenading the Edge during “Vertigo” around 7m30s, lots of fond looks. 

Fic mentioned - The Scientist or: How Edge Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bono by spacemonkey 

Tory’s Top 5 U2 Tracks (slightly deeper cuts, in no particular order): Red Hill Mining Town , Bad, Lemon, Every Breaking Wave, and Stay (Faraway, So Close!)  

“Ordinary Love” acoustic version, U2 on Jimmy Fallon (2014) with Roots. One of Sara’s favorite U2 live vids ever!! 

Tory is listening to - Leith Ross, an indie-rock Canadian singer-songwriter. Here’s a song from their Youtube channel.

Bandcamp - Her Dilemma the bass player that played for Leith Ross during the set Tory watched. “Mathy”, a bit like Slint!

#fanfiction #talkin' fanfic #fanfiction podcast #rpf #U2 #Bono/Edge #bedge #U2 RPF #band fic

[tokillamockingbird427]

random thought cause, why not:

i like to think logan & hesh pull out their phones/tablets to record anything just for the fuck of it. doesn’t matter if its on a mission or anything, they are pulling out any electronics they have on them just to record. fight? expect to see 2 phones up or a phone and a tablet up in the air. people arguing? same process. the only difference whenever logan and hesh are doing this is hesh is jumping up and down excitedly or has a face of pure joy(smiling or lightly giggling, this really depends on the how big the situation is) while logans stone faced.

since logan & hesh are probably the only gen z’s in the team besides the main 7(5) (everyones a fucking millennial…), i feel like whenever they do this they get shocked ass stares or laughter by the rest of the ghosts. do they record with shame? hell no, if anything its with no hesitation and so casually you need to do double turn to process what you’re witnessing. whenever they do this you can tell the difference between whos a millennial and whos gen z, especially since if you include rorke & elias, the oldest member is 53.

(the blackmail they probably have has to be INSANE.)

bonus:

hesh snatching logans tablet from where ever the man has it on him to record something cause 1) his phones dead or 2) he forgot it somewhere.

(logans using his own phone(if he has one besides his tablet) or hesh’s phone that hesh hasn’t realized he has cause logan put it in a different case that he stole.)

(i also forgot to give credits to a reddit story that inspired my last ask(i was rereading it for the 10th time and thought i gave credits, sigh.), but i will say that reddit story was sad though :( (i cant find it sadly). also, i decided that i will write the mama walker ask ! not sure when exactly cause well, yea…but i know its gonna be long as hell. (looking about like…7k-11k words or more if i dont get writers block or plan it out well.))

—🎧anon

Oh pleaseeeeee, this is hilarious. You seen that clip from the new Mortal Kombat where it pans over a lot of the characters and Johnny Cage is just filming whatever the hell they're staring at? It's that. And it's glorious.

Logan and Hesh realize the Ghosts think it's funny so they start pretending to record random ass things so the ghosties will get confused and come over to ask what's up. Logan and Hesh take the bit one step further by "recording" random ghosties to see how they react.

Merrick does the "Celebrity vs paparazzi" hand thing, Keegan will freeze up and look like a spooked deer, Kick will just start "posing sexy" (It's not sexy), so on and so forth with goofy variations for all of them.

The Johnny Cage behavior in question Via Brian Rocha on tiktok

Fun fact: In Ghost Stories (Ghosts opening mission) you can see people recording the rods as they're falling on San Diego.

#call of duty #call of duty ghosts #logan walker #hesh walker #task force stalker aka the ghosts #beloved anon #🎧 anon

[myveryownfanfiction]

Chapter 33

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGEI IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @onedirectionlovers2014, @eroticaplush

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected marital sex, Dan may come across as a bit creepy staring at the fashion show models

AN: So chapter 35 will be for the episode coming out 2/20. I'm semi combining the last two episodes but also not if that makes any sense. So enjoy!

When we arrived at the courthouse, Dan and I both looked at each other. Models were walking around in various states of dress and designers were trailing after them. Kids in all black and headsets ran around trying to control the chaos.

“what the fuck is going on?” I asked. Dan shrugged and grabbed a kid.

”what’s going on?” He asked. The kid looked at him and rolled his eyes.

“ain’t you a lawyer? Read your report.” The kid said. Dan tightened his grip on the kid. “Alright. Alright. There was an incident at the fashion show. We all were brought in. Talk to judge stone.” Dan let the kid go and he ran off.

“fashion show gone wrong.” I laughed. “What are the odds.”

“not the first not the last.” Dan shrugged. “Last time that happened they were making a porno but didn’t know it. Swimsuit models that thought they were going to be crowned Ms universe.” I raised an eyebrow at Dan and he sighed. “Yeah yeah I did try to sleep with them. I failed. Go ahead. Laugh.”

“Hmmm.” I mused. “I’m starting to think you didn’t have it like you make would you did.” Dan chuckled. “Beautiful women in swimsuits and you still struck out. And I’ve seen you in your day Dan. You were hooooottt.” Dan blushed and hung his head.

“alright that’s enough.” He sighed. “You’re lucky I love you.” He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him. “Come on let’s see what Abbie’s up to.”

“Abbie’s going on a date after court.” Gurgs informed us when we entered the cafeteria. “With a fashion designer.”

“is he legitimate?” Dan asked. I looked over at him. Something about the way he gazed intently at gurgs and his eyebrows had furrowed slightly. “Is he really a fashion designer or just someone saying he is?”

“well considering the fact he was hiding from paparazzi in her office and the way they went nuts when he left I’d say he is.” Gurgs said, looking at in confusion. “Why?” Dan stood up abruptly and walked off. I stared at the door after he left and sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“he’s going to vet the designer.” I breathed out. “This happened before. When he first worked here. He was telling me about it and I kind of joked around about it. Swimsuit models last time.” Gurgs smiled at me and nodded.

“he’s worried about Abbie.” She said. I nodded. “That’s sweet.” Gurgs looked over her shoulder where Dan was walking down the hallway. “How’s that make you feel? You have this look that says something’s going through your head.”

“yeah.” I said, biting my lip. “I’m thinking he’s gonna be a great dad. He just doesn’t know it.” Gurgs smiled at me and patted my arm before getting up.

“come on. Time for court.” She said. I nodded and followed her to the courtroom. As the night wore on, I noticed Dan kept looking at the models.

“everything alright?” I asked. Dan nodded, not taking his eyes off a model a little younger than me.

“yeah.” He said, finally tearing his eyes away. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Abbie’s date moved up to break. Designer checks out. So uh…” he paused for a second. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“you’re already such a dad.” I laughed as I hugged him. Dan frowned before his head jerked towards the model. She had just let out a sob and turned to run out of the courtroom. “You’re concerned for a kid you don’t even know. I’ve never seen you act like you did tonight when Abbie said she was going on a date. Not even when Rand showed up. Dan, you are going to be an amazing dad. And I’m glad I get to be the one to see it.” Dan blushed before taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

“thank you.” He whispered. “I don’t know why but sometimes I guess I just need to hear that kind of stuff.”

“you know…” I said as I started pulling Dan towards the exit. “Abbie’s date is going to run into court time. And we’ve got some time to kill…” Dan smiled at me as he got the hint.

“office?” He asked. I nodded as we left the court room and headed towards his office. “Who knew me acting like a dad would get you all hot and bothered.” He laughed as I wrapped my hand around his tie.

“well…i mean you’re not quite a dad yet but…” I kissed him forcefully and started working on undressing him. “You definitely are a dad I’d like to fuck.” Dan shook his head, laughing under his breath.

“damn that’s bad.” He said, watching as I rid him of his clothes. Once his pants were pushed down, he started undressing me. “You’re going to have to come up with something better than that eventually.”

“don’t blame me.” I breathed out as he kissed me deeply, pulling me to the couch. “Blame the internet.” Dan sat down on his couch and pulled me into his lap. I straddled him the best I could and sank down on him. I cut his moan off with another kiss. Bouncing on his lap, I ran my fingers through his hair only letting up when his head tilted back. Instead I started peppering his neck and jaw with kisses.

“fuck (Y/N).” Dan breathed out as I sucked on the skin below his ear. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“neither am I.” I responded, pulling back to look at him. Dans hands pushed and pulled at my waist, helping me with my movements. “I am serious though. You are going to make an incredibly sexy dad one day.” Dan grunted as I sank down on him again.

“let’s hope it’s soon.” He ground out, pulling me in for a bruising kiss as my orgasm washed over me. He followed me after another thrust up into me. His arms were quick to circle around me and pull me into his chest. “I love you.” He whispered as we slowly came down from our high.

“I love you too.” I said, smiling up at him. “My dilf.” His body shook with his laughter and I smiled at him, enjoying the moment of pure bliss.

#john larroquette #john larroquette fanfic #john larroquette fanfiction #john larroquette imagine #john larroquette x reader #dan fielding #dan fielding x reader #dan fielding fanfic #dan fielding fanfiction #dan fielding imagine #Old enough #old enough series

[alolanrain]

Headcanon because depression just hit me like a truck, and I'm in desperate need of comfort rn:

Suddenly, and often without warning, the trauma hits Ash like an Extreme Speed attack, and he just ceases. All ability to function just stops. He goes numb, eyes dull and lifeless as tears occasionally spill and trickle down his cheeks.

Raihan knew what he signed up for when he became romantically involved with Ash. Whenever these episodes occur, no matter how long they last, Raihan would simply drop whatever he was doing previously, pull Ash into his arms, and hold him tight.

No words are shared. There is no need or room for words. But all the while, Raihan is hoping (read: praying) that sooner, rather than later, the bubbly, energetic, feral Ash he knows will return from the dark clouds that have taken over his boyfriend.

YES!!! Holy fuck this is a HC.

Raihan is more than willing to drop everything or as much as he can in that moment to help Ash. Sometimes this leads to Raihan sprawled across the couch with Ash tucked securely in his arms as he’s on a call with other league officials. No one’s going to say no to The Ash Ketchum, let alone his lover who he protects so fiercely.

Adding on:

Raihan’s protection is more media based, to protect Ash for not being in the media presence. There have been dozens of times he had thrown his weight around outside of Galar and his fan base. Though he picks different reason’s why publicly. Galar as a whole will protect him no matter what, even his hater’s would take his side over anyone else just because of their country pride ways. Let alone the other league members of other regions that genuinely like Raihan for his personality and not just his paparazzi ready smile and icy blue eyes. Ash helped boost his image in front of much higher league officials. Champions from far off regions he’s never heard of and now constantly in touch with.

Genuine friends that weren’t made from working side by side in forced acknowledgement for years. Ruled over by fucking Rose the entire time and some even controlled as puppets. It does things to people and Ash was his saving grace from falling into a bitter, bitter life. His precious little legend. He’d do anything to protect the life Ash gave him the moment he fell into Raihan’s lap. Not even his colleges were safe, Leon still quivers when Raihan smiles with a little to much teeth now. Rose and Oleana tried once and they had almost the entire International League come down as a whole. The first time everyone had seen each region agree upon was that they were out of line.

Despite being Rose’s only child he was openly against the man from the start, openly gave his opinion to every foreign leader his father wished he could meet. Nothing would or could stop him. Ash was an absolute instigator the entire time. Not once has he stopped Raihan and even prompted the man to speak out. It had rewarded him in the end when a good chunk of people had actually apologized to Riahan that he had to be that mans son. It had most likely solidified his position as the Champions most favored lover of Ash’s. Settling him permanently at Ash’s side-despite the fact they weren’t even official dating to each other. They saw people on the side but not as often as they did at the start. It petered out to once or twice a month. To occupied in each other even from a distanced but unwilling to do anything about it.

Like the dumb fucks they were.

But now? Now he has a black little velvet box sitting in an old beaten and slightly bent pokeball, Pikachu’s decommissioned one after broken in an a freak accident with some God Ash won’t tell him about. Moss agate stone plated in gold, flashy because Ash wanted it to be. And then it’ll be one custom made by Steven Stone and Lance. A traditional wedding band for men and a more sleek design. Designated to show that it was official, they were each other’s and no one else’s.

Ash is also very protective of Raihan, more so than equal to the gym leader. So fiercely protective in the swing on this motherfucker and I’ll make you beg in front of Arceus way. Ash wouldn’t kill unless pushed to the absolute limit or either protecting a vast majority of people before it’s to late. Blood on his hands is what he’s trying to avoid in this world but it’s a necessary. But when it comes to Raihan? The only person Ash has never had to explain any aches or pain, never asked about a new mark or unless in passing. That doesn’t mean Raihan never worshipped him. Nearly does every night and he cherishes it in every form of love that he can show. Which also means he’s going to rip into some fuckers that even dare breath wrong in Raihan’s direction. Anyone was fair game and it was quickly established that the Champions were not running Raihan out of his love life. Arceus, Raihan was his.

There was rarely another person, only when he got to pent up from the stress and aura usage. Ash almost found the act enjoyable in some cases. He doesn’t know what raihan knows whats going on when he’s out and about. If he keeps tabs on Ash through social media or not. It wouldn’t surprise him and was more then welcomed. From what he’s seen on the news played during breakfast Raihan has a pretty tight grip about Ash’s overall arching online presence. Backed by the other leagues own need for safety reasons when it comes to Ash he was well protected.

Though is defeats the fact that Ash doesn’t necessarily care. He’s okay with being on scream and in pictures and videos. Which leaves to a lot of Ash’s failed attempts to do parkour in public, even to this day, on the web.

But back to Ash being the scary Houndoom to Raihan’s sly Liepard.

Raihan is literally the only person Ash has a “touch them and your dead” outlook on everyone. No one’s safe and he’s very good at keeping that under wraps.

#ash ketchum #raihan #aurafangshipping

[andrews-lovr]

can I request an andrew / actress reader who stars in a movie together and fall in love. Like maybe a friends to lovers thing. When both asked to do a kiss scene that became hot and bothered. They reveal feelings for each other afterwards:)

Warnings: unedited! this is set after the filming of tick tick boom. Swearing, kissing, fluff, that's it!

Note: im really happy with this one, sorry it took so long beautiful!! thank you for the request!!

You never expected in your whole life that acting would actually take you somewhere.

You were told by everyone that it was a pointless dead end for you, a child's dream. but boy were they wrong.

After winning your first golden globe and oscar it seemed your name was everywhere, you weren't able to leave your house without someone taking your photo.

But alongside this fame you were able to get many calls for new roles that you were excited to be a part of.

One specifically you were ecstatic about was an upcoming romantic comedy you would be starring in.

It was a good choice for yourself in a next movie as your last role was quite emotionally draining.

You only heard that you got the part yesterday and would be going to meet your cast mates and crew in a few weeks.

-

"Melony im plenty fine with my schedule at the moment, just because you're my agent doesn't mean you always need to stress. I have the meeting tomorrow morning for the film then will start filming the next day, and don't worry I've learnt my lines." You say out of breathe as you make your way for your small apartment the movie produces had given you.

"I know darling, just i dont want an occurrence of last winters disaster where you didn't show up for that meeting and they dropped you. But i know you won't let it happen again." She chastised through the speaker.

"It won't I promise and I mean it doesn't matter. Skipping that meeting gave me the opportunity to film the biggest movie of 2022!" You spoke taking your elevator to your apartment door.

"Anyway I gotta go, I have a few errands to run and to get some stuff into my apartment."

"Dont worry dear I'll call you in a few weeks, have fun filming!" She hummed through the phone.

"Sure will, bye." You let out a heavy sigh knowing this was going to be a full on few weeks.

You already felt home sick, you missed your dog, your family and your own cute house by the beach.

The elevator came to a stop, walking to your room: number 14. You knew that only people youre working with would be in this building along with you, so you felt quite safe from paparazzi.

You fiddled with your keys attempting to open your door when you heard the room across from yours door close.

You turned around to be met by... Andrew garfield? You were filming with the Andrew garfield? The two time oscar nominated, golden globe winner Andrew garfield?

The one your had a celebrity crush on since you watched him and Emma stone in his spiderman movies.

This was going to be an interesting mix.

"Hi, im andrew im going to be working on star crossed lovers with you." He uttered putting his hand out for you to take.

"Oh I know! I mean I know who you are! Im like your number one fan... honestly your work is incredible. Im so lucky to be working with you." You rambled seizing his hand in yours, not wanting to let go.

18 year old you would be jumping out of her skin right now, I mean even 30 year old you is.

"Haha im flattered. Its not everyday you get to work with a brilliant actress. Your last movie was absolutely phenomenal, and you did such a wonderful job." His voice was like honey, you couldn't help but melt under his praise. The andrew garfield just complimented your acting skills and movie?

"Well im really excited to be working with you. Im guessing you got the main role?" You asked attempting to hide the pink hue that covered your cheeks.

"Yeah I guess you're going to be the love interest." He spoke and you swear you saw a pink shade across his cheeks.

"The one and only." You laughed looking up into his brown doe eyes.

"Well I better get going, I need to run a few errands. It was lovely to meet you." He said lightly.

"Trust me it was an absolute delight to finally meet you." You spoke watching as he slowly made his way down the hall.

"See you tomorrow" he waved taking the stairs.

A massive sigh left your lungs, your legs barley taking your weight under your body. He was more dreamy in person and just as kind as you thought he would be.

You opened the big white door to the new home you would be living in for the next few months. A long next few months.

-

Now that you knew who you would be filming alongside these next few weeks you were so excited.

You couldn't help but hum to yourself as you made your breakfast that morning.

You made extra careful attention to your outfits and makeup when leaving for the set, not wanting to look as though you had only slept 2 hours that night. Which you had, the bags under your eyes making an obvious statement.

You hummed deciding to stroll to the studio this morning. The sun was warming your body in the most perfect way and the breeze even blowed eloquently, wisping at your face.

"hey! Wait up."

Your turned around seeing the gorgeous man, not a hair out of place as he jogged towards you attempting to keep the coffees from spilling.

It was quite amusing the sight of andrew carefully balancing the scolding hot caffeine as he tried to make up the distant, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.

"Whats so funny?" He asked handing you an almond milk latte with caramel, coincidentally the order you always got.

"Just watching you nearly falling over from the amount of drinks you have stacked up there" you smiled at the memory.

"Well, I traditionally always buy coffees for everyone on the first day of set. If I dont something bad always seems to happen whilst filming."

"Great start then, this is my go to coffee. Do you need me to take some of those?"

"Yes please, only known you 24 hours and you're already a life saver." He smiled handing you a tray of caffeine.

"You excited to start filming?" He asked taking a sip of his coffee.

"I am, im really excited to begin working with you. I've honestly dreamed of working with you since I watch your spiderman movies, you seem to have such natural chemistry with everyone you worked with and I can't help but- im rambling. Im sorry, I always get ahead of myself." you quietened taking a big gulp of your drink to avoid talking.

"No, no. Dont be sorry, im quite flattered. I watched your film and I must say you seem to have great connections with the people you act alongside with."

"Oh, um thanks. Im sure its going to be very easy working with you." I'm sure the whole world could see how red your face, with the amount of praise this man was giving you.

You both walked the streets side by side not caring if anyone took any photos of the two of you together, you were as happy as could be in this moment.

-

The first week of filming seemed to go by so fast. It was so easy to work alongside andrew, it felt so natural and not at all forced.

You were right his chemistry with everyone in the cast was incredible. You didn't feel at all uncomfortable with him, today you would have to film your fight scene which you knew was going to be emotionally hard day.

"FOLLOWING YOUR DREAMS DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME BEHIND!!" you screamed at andrew tears pouring down your face.

"BUT YOU ALREADY HAVE A LIFE HERE... WITH YOUR FIANCE! Give me one good reason to stay here with you, watching you waste your life away with a man who doesn't love you nearly half as much as I do?" He sounded so genuine that it hit something deep within your past, you started feeling real emotion.

"you... you love me? WHY, WHY? Why are you telling me this now, Im meant to get married to him in a few weeks? You couldn't have told me sooner?"

"Was it not obvious enough?? I tell you how beautiful you are every. Single. Day. I hold you when you need me most, I share your joy with you when you're happiest. I talk about OUR future, when are you going to wake up and realise i was here all along? When are you going to realise i love you and I've loved you every single day of my life since that moment I first laid eyes on you?" It felt like the cameras weren't even there anymore, andrews eyes boring into your soul.

"CUT-" one of the people shouted standing behind the cameras.

Andrew took no time in racing towards you, driving you towards his chest. He embraced you with the most warming hug of your life.

"Hey. Im sorry, those scenes are so emotionally draining. You did so so incredibly dovey, i hope I didn't scare you." Andrew whispered rubbing at the hair on your head. (He'd gotten accustomed to calling by that name after a dove had followed you around all set because you didn't realise there were bread crumbs in your back pocket.)

"No. Dont be sorry, I am tougher than I look. You were absolutely brilliant, was so genuine. Your such an amazing actor." His smile said everything you didn't need to hear, big toothy grin from ear to ear.

"God you're so pretty. I- I mean a pretty amazing actor yourself." He nuzzled his face into your neck to hide the embarrassment he was feeling.

"I think we got the shot you two, next scene is your making up and kissing scene. Absolutely brilliant work everyone, just a few more hours to go!" The director praised.

"You ready?"

To kiss you, I've never been more ready in my life. (You want to say out loud)

"As ready as I'll ever be"

"3, 2, 1 and...ACTION!"

"I, I love you too" you whispered under your breathe.

"But why, oh why couldn't have you told me when we were 19 and young and stupid." You said taking two steps toward andrew as instructed.

"Because we were young, dumb and stupid. That stupid 19 year old only knew for certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. So he waited till he was prepared with a stable job and a lot more experience, to give the most deserving girl, the most deserving life she could imagine." Andrews breath warm on your face, you could smell the salty sea, the sweet cinnamon and something that was comfortably him.

"Now that 19 year old is a 35 year old man, prepared to give her all his love and his life, to grow old by her side and discover what it feels like to continue to fall in love with you every, single, day. Love is a word that doesn't even fit what kind of feeling that I have, this feeling where my heart is bursting through my chest and the ache is so much I just can't take it anymore. Can, can I kiss you?" His head fell softly on yours, every word felt so genuine and directed toward you.

"Please, please, please." You chanted like a mantra.

His lips slowly grazed yours, they were soft and felt so perfect against your own.

You had kissing scenes with other actors before, but nothing felt so real and perfect than this kiss.

He took the lead continuing to mold your lips together, tilting your face towards his, hands resting upon your cheeks.

It felt like all the unspoken adoration between you to was in this kiss. Folding your hands between the soft locks the graciously fell at the back of his head.

The kiss was so sweet and soft, his lips tasted of the watermelon gum he had been chewing earlier.

You almost forgot you were being filmed till you heard a loud *CUT* both of you pulling back immediately a bit embarrassed.

You could see the obvious flush that splayed across andrews features, he looked even more angelic with his lips a bit puffy and red, his eyes sparkling with love.

Im sure you looked the same from his point of view.

"Well, that's a wrap. I'll see you guys next week."

"Thanks Tim!" You thanked your director and made your way for your changeroom, to scared to face andrew again.

"Holy shit... HOLY FUCKING SHIT?!?!?" you screamed to your reflection.

"I really just did that? Somebody pinch me?"

"Oh dovey, I would pinch you to make sure you weren't dreaming, but I could never hurt you." Andrew stood in the doorway a grin plastered his adoring face.

"Please don't tell me you've been standing there this whole time?" You sat down on your chair in shame.

"Okay. I won't tell you that then." He made his way over to you carefully.

"So..."

"So"

"Well I don't know about you, but I think im extremely embarrassed, not only because of what you just heard, but because we just made our so hard infront of... everyone."

"You're cute when you're flustered dovey." Andrew smirked. Holding your face in his hands.

"How bout I take you out on a date?"

"Wha- what? Andrew actually pinch me, I think I am dreaming." You squealed.

"So is that a nooo?"

"ITS A YES!! its defintly a yes!!"

"You know you're my celebrity crush ever since I saw you in your cheesy disney channel show" he laughed holding you close.

"Oh no. I told them to burn that movies years ago." You joined in the laughter.

"But, nathaniel. Hes not just a boy, he's a man. A, a real man with amazing beach sand hair." Andrew mocked, reminding you of the horrid script.

"Dont even go their spider boy." You smirked.

"Oh, well this spider boy has some spider tricks up his sleeve." He chuckled, tasting your lips once again.

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield imagine #fanfiction #romantic #maketasm3 #tasm andrew garfield #spiderverse #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield peter parker