#Mia please marry me instead

[mal-lay]

Don’t feel like drawing digitally right now -sticking to sketches. But I wanna appreciate Mia Stone. I love her so much!!💕💕🫶🏽🫶🏽

3rd picture is just me drawing different outfits on her.

1st one is a cute little pajama dress idea that I made up in my head.

2nd one is her alternative outfit (or for her anniversary). It is slightly inspired by @nachocheezos21 ‘s post that I saw from a few months ago where they drew Mia and Afton’s gifts. It’s a similar concept at least. I thought her fit was so cute!!💕

3rd one is her marriage dress. I searched up 1950’s wedding dresses.

I tried making her face similar to this sketch I did with all the characters (which I never posted) almost 2 months ago. But sadly I can’t draw things too similar. I’m really proud of this sketch.

Bonus:

They are gossiping about nerdy things. 🤓

I was drawing this planning to do intelligent characters but then I realized —“All” of them are Mad (evil) scientists! But I drew Harold —who is on the dorky side. But he was too good to erase. 🤭

Seriously who invited bro?💀

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster (8)

Pairing: Chan x Reader x Felix

Warning: Violence, Mentions of Blood etc

Word Count: 1.2k

Taglist: @bluebeard67 @stephanieeeyang @stayatinykatsy @thicccurls @thecutiepieme @kayleefriedchicken @msauthor @purple-bell @bluesiebirdie @jisunglyricist @skzdust @hash2013 @skzooluvr @minh0scat @kkamismom12

@gloriajovicc @mouseyboo @chloe-elise-2000 @jiminssluttyminx

@maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @ambersnowxxx

@ayyonoona @31maze13

@silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz

Previous Chapters

“Please!” You cry out. “Please don't!” Panic sets in as Seojoon walks closer to you, his hand gripping onto something. Your eyes are having a hard time focusing as you watch him get closer with each step, Mia standing off to the side giggling while she watches you trying to rip the chains from the ceiling. You're not strong enough, your shoulders ache so badly as you struggle, trying to swing your legs up to kick him as he stands in front of you. You look down, seeing a long whip in his hands and your stomach sinks.

“Please.” You whisper. “Don't. What do you want from me!?” You scream.

“Well.” Mia starts. “I'd like for you to start minding your goddamn business. If you're told to stay out of something, that doesn't mean keep meddling!” She shouts. Her fists clench as she stares at you. You look between her and Seojoon, he stands there chuckling, looking down at her hands.

“Hit her.” He says. “It'll help relieve stress. You'll feel better.”

Mia looks at him, she's surprised he even suggested that. She opens her mouth to say something but closes it, instead, pulls her arm back, swinging at you, hitting you directly in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

You hang there coughing, trying to catch your breath as she cocks her arm back again, this time hitting your face as you're gasping for air.

“Wow.” Mia chuckles. “It's working.” She smiles, raising her hand, slapping you hard across the face. Your stomach and face burn, you can feel blood dripping from your lip or nose, you have no idea which one.

“You gotta let me have some fun too.” Seojoon chuckles, setting down his whip. “This is gonna be for the three absolutely agonizing years I had to fucking suffer through with you.” He says, hitting you with a closed fist, directly in the nose. You scream out loudly as you begin to cry. You desperately prayed that Wonho told Chan what had happened, he was your only chance at getting out of here.

“God. So many times I had wanted to do this to you. Being with you was so insufferable.” He chuckles, grabbing a chunk of your hair, pulling your head up. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.” He scoffs. You try to focus your eyes but you struggle to look at him or Mia, your head is spinning.

“Please stop.” You whisper, spitting blood from your mouth.

“You know you wouldn't be in this position had you just listened to us.” He laughs. “I wish your father had asked me to be with you.” Seojoon smiles, looking over at Mia.

“You are now, that's all that matters.” Mia giggles, walking closer to him.

“That's right, baby.” Seojoon says, pulling Mia in for a sloppy kiss.

“He's fucking married.” You cough.

Seojoon hits you harder than last time. “Do you ever fucking learn?” He snaps. “Try minding your goddamn business.”

“I know he's married. I don't care.” Mia tells you.

“What about Felix?” You whimper.

“What about him?” Mia scoffs. “He's part of a job, nothing fucking more. Once Chan, Felix and Mr. Lee are out of the picture, Seojoon will leave his wife.”

Seojoon coughs, stepping back from Mia, looking through the tools laid out on the table. “Right?” She asks.

“Now's not the time for this bullshit, Mia.” He snaps. “Are you gonna let the wedding happen Y/N and stop getting in the fucking way?” He asks.

“You think…I'm gonna let Felix…marry that cunt?” You gasp. “Think again.”

“I say we just fucking kill her.” Seojoon spits, reaching in the waist of his pants, pulling out a gun. He cocks it, pointing it at your head.

“Mia?” You hear your dad calling.

“Don't say a fucking word.” Mia says to you.

“Coming daddy.” She yells, looking between you and Seojoon. “Don't do anything until I get back.”

You watch as Mia goes up the stairs, leaving you alone with the psychopath.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Seojoon huffs. “Clearly beating you isn't getting the message across…what is it gonna take?” He sighs. “Maybe…” He trails off, turning around. He grabs a knife from the tray, turning back to you. He grins as he jabs the knife into the fabric of your shirt, cutting it all the way up until it hangs open, exposing your bra. “You know, these really were the only good things about you.” He chuckles. “You've always had great tits.” He says, his hands resting on your waist.

“If you don't take your fucking hands off her, I'll blow your goddamn brains out.” You hear from the stairs. Your head snaps up, seeing the shadow of Chan through your blurry and swollen eyes.

“The fuck are you gonna do about it?” Seojoon scoffs, turning to look at you before back at Chan.

“You think there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect this girl?” Chan asks. “I've been to prison.” He chuckles, walking closer to Seojoon. “And I'm not fucking afraid to go back.”

Seojoon runs back the way he originally came out but Chan doesn't chase after him. He rushes towards you, grabbing a chair for you to stand on before he starts working on breaking the chains around your wrists. You sob as he releases one wrist, the relief and the pain was too much.

Chan gets your other wrist free, causing you to collapse onto him. He holds onto you tightly, picking you up and carrying you up the stairs.

“The wedding is in a few weeks…” You barely hear your father say before trailing off. “Y/N? Chan?” He gasps, rushing towards you. “What the fuck happened?”

“Why don't you ask your other daughter?” Chan growls.

Your father looks at Mia, who sits there trying to act innocent. “I told you a little bit!” Your father snaps.

“It was mostly Seojoon.” You mumble.

“Seojoon did this?” Your dad asks. His voice was calmer than it had ever been, and that was always so much scarier.

“Daddy… I can…” Mia trails off.

“My office, now.” He says.

Chan doesn't say anything, instead takes your limp body out of the house, placing you in the backseat of the car and peeling out of the driveway.

You must have passed out, when you came to, you were back in Chan’s arms, being taken into his house.

“What happened?” You hear a deep familiar voice.

“You're future fucking wife happened.” Chan snaps, taking you upstairs to his room. He walks in, closing the door behind him before laying you down on his bed.

“You saved me.” You mumble.

“Of course I did.” He laughs.

“Thank you.” You whisper, groaning as you try to get comfy in his bed. Your body ached and throbbed.

“I'm going to get you some medicine.” He whispers as you doze off, finally feeling safe.

Over the next week, Chan never left your side, bringing you everything you needed and wanted to help your body heal. Your bruises had almost faded, and the rest of your body was close to being fully recovered.

“How are you feeling?” Chan asks.

“So much better.” You smile. “I can't thank you enough.”

“For what?” He asks.

“For everything. For saving me…taking care of me, nursing me back to health… for it all.” You smile. “I've never had anyone care this much for me.” You say, as he comes and sits next to you on the bed.

“I'd go to the ends of the fucking earth for you.” Chan says. “I'd do anything you asked of me.”

“Why?” You whisper.

“Because I'm so fucking in love with you.”

[silverpetrichor]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

A/N: I know I’ve been MIA but the mania surrounding Gravity Falls right now has awoken me from my slumber. I’ve had a huge crush on Ford since I got into the series during the pandemic and I just had to write this.(I've also never written smut before so please forgive me if it's cringe.) I’ve never written him before, so forgive me if he’s a little (or a lot) OOC. As always constructive criticism is welcome and please enjoy! 

Last Summer. . .

You were helping your brother cook dinner for his heavily pregnant wife and 2 kids. Laughing and joking as your younger brother arrived with his husband, wine and dessert. It was shaping up to be another ordinary evening hanging out with your family when you got the call. 

Next thing you know you’re hugging your loved ones goodbye before opening a portal to the outskirts of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Staring up at the darkness enveloping the town that you’d only heard of in passing, watching on in horror before assisting the others in reinforcing the natural barriers around the town to keep it from spreading…  

“—Y/n! Earth to Y/n! Are you okay?” Your coworker asked as you looked up from where you had zoned out while shelving the new books.  

“Yeah? I um, I’m fine really. Just lost in thought for a second.” you respond. 

“Oh, okay. Well, I was just trying to tell you that it’s lunch time,” Tracy said, smiling up at you. 

You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing “Geez, already?” you looked at your watch, and low and behold it was noon already.  

You cast one more glance to the book still in your hand, a post apocalyptic romance who’s cover had evoked memories of the centralized apocalypse that had taken place last summer in the seemingly innocuous town. You recall arguing with the council about actually getting involved and helping the town instead of just doing damage control. You didn’t like the stances they often took, and were preparing to go in despite their decision when all of a sudden the oppressive feeling of Bill’s presence vanished and with it your need to be there, standing sentry. 

Or, so you thought. Now, you have moved from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the quiet and peculiar little town of Gravity Falls. All because you dared to go against the council and nearly disobeyed them, you were now stuck as a librarian here indefinitely. Merely monitoring the situation and living in a cottage not too far from the Mystery Shack, hidden by magic and finally inhabited again after decades of going unused after the last council assigned witch moved.

You shook your head as if shaking off your thoughts, shelving the book in your hand and heading to the breakroom in the back where your homemade lunch sat in the fridge. 

You ate your lunch with Tracy in relative silence letting her do most of the talking. She was a sweet woman who was a few years older than you, in her early forties married with three rambunctious kids. She was also very talkative, which you didn’t mind despite being more introverted yourself. 

You never liked the quiet anyway, ironically enough even though you had moved out to a cottage in the woods, you always had music or something playing. You’d even gotten a fluffy pet cat a week before who moved out here who you dubbed Lady Arson the III. 

You’d actually grown fond of this little town despite being a city girl, this town had its own unique charm. Even though you had to chase some gnomes out and renew the old wards on the old cottage. (Thank the stars you had a magical ingredients supplier for the unicorn hair you needed. Unicorns are such stuck up assholes and if you never had to interact with one again it’d be too soon) You had redecorated the cottage and made it your own. You also found a nearby lake to go swimming in relative peace during the spring and summer.  

You talked for a while with Tracy as you found yourself having a bit of fun. While you missed the city there were plenty of things and people that made it worth it. Like your crush on your friend Ford Pines. . . 

He came to the library every other day or so in the afternoon sitting in the back alcove reading and writing in a journal with weathered pages. You’d actually managed to strike up a rapport with the man instead of hopelessly pining after him in silence. (Which you still did but you felt less pathetic when your hands would wander late at night when you couldn’t sleep)  

And, speaking of the devil, Ford was present with his teenage niece and nephew Mabel and Dipper. You found them in the back of the library searching the shelves for a book as you came around the corner to reshelve the last of the book on your cart. 

“Good afternoon Y/n!” Mabel excitedly stated, having noticed you first as her brother and grunkle were absorbed in searching the shelves. 

“Afternoon Pines family, what trouble have you gotten into today?” You greeted and asked, taking in their disheveled appearances as you raised a brow. 

“We were exercising a category five ghost in the woods near Fiddleford’s mansion when we encountered a hostile gremloblin!” Mable replied as her and Dipper shuddered in unison. 

You scanned them for injuries upon hearing this, before asking if they were okay. They nodded their assent before Mabel leaned in and whispered “But I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford has a concussion or something.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you release your hold on the cart you’d been pushing. You tap Ford’s shoulder and he turns around, rather quickly almost stumbling. As he does you notice the gash on his forehead covered in Hello Kitty bandaids, that are clearly Mable’s work. But despite that you still see some red on the gauze the two bandaids are holding down. 

“Hello, beaut—I mean Y/n!” clears throat, while rubbing his head with his free hand, “How are you doing today?” Ford asks awkwardly, blushing. 

“Certainly better than you, you’re bleeding! Come with me.” You say, grabbing Ford’s hand after seeing the slightly dazed and unfocused look in his eyes and the bloody gauze on his hand. 

You pull him to the breakroom, the twins following. Ford huffing and blushing even harder at you holding his hand. You sit him at the table as the twins walk over to the vending machine drawn to the candy and chips in it respectively. 

You wash your hands quickly before going to bend and look under the sink and after a minute or two of rummaging around, pull out the new first aid kit that you’d brought to replace the old barely full one. Ford’s head tilts and his eyebrows raise as he mentally thanks the infinite cosmos for pencil skirts and the fact that you seem to love to wear them. 

When you stand straight he guiltily turns his head to the side, finding interest in the fake foliage and book themed posters hanging about. You raise a brow at his odd behavior, chalking it up to his concussion and head over after smoothing out your black pencil skirt. You walk over, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as you take off your colorful blazer before rolling up your white blouse sleeves.  

You open up the first aid kit with practiced efficiency after laying out a piece of paper towel from the roll in the middle of the table. You sanitize your hands quickly with an alcohol wipe before you gently pull the Hello Kitty bandages and gauze off his forehead. Apologizing quietly as Ford winces still, you move to grab the alcohol. You end up muttering another apology as he winces whilst you dab at the slightly deep cut with a soaked cotton ball.  

Ford’s face stays flushed as he realizes how close your chest is to his face. Trying his best to not make it obvious that he’s staring at you in that way. His eyes flicker to your face, focusing on how cute you look with your face scrunched up in concentration as you gently dab.   

While Ford struggles to be covert about his feelings you seem to be fairing slightly better with a barely there flush to your face. You place butterfly bandages on his forehead after dropping the alcohol soaked cotton ball onto the paper towel. 

You then gently grab his hand before unraveling the gauze, and dabbing at the cut with another alcohol soaked cotton ball. 

Mabel looks over, noticing the look in each other's eyes and Ford’s blushing face. A smirk falling over her face as she realizes what is happening, nodding to herself.

“Matchmaking time!” she whispers under breath before choking on a gummy kola. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he slaps her back, the gummy kola flying out her mouth. Of which, she promptly picks up off the floor and eats much to Dipper's disgust. 

“So…Y/n huh? Do you. . .like her?” Mabel asks Ford as they leave the library, raising her eyebrows and smirking. 

Ford chuckles nervously, blushing furiously “What? I, I uh. . I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He says, eyes shifting about nervously. 

“ Oh my gosh! Yes you do!! You love her! Love, love, love her!!” Mabel yelled, jumping up and down around him as the trio walked back to the Mystery Shack.   

“And I thought I sucked at hiding my feelings.” Dipper nudged Ford, laughing. 

Ford sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he nodded in defeat before telling Mabel to quiet herself despite no one being near. 

“Yes, I am very fond of Y/n. I find her to be endearing and enchanting in everything she does,” Ford muttered as he nervously laughed. 

“Well then Grunkle Ford, you should ask her out!! All the other blind dates I've tried to set her up on went nowhere!!” Mabel said as she skipped backwards in front of him and Dipper.  

“I don't know, I mean, aren't I too old for her? And I haven't really had any sort of  relationship in a while.” Ford muttered as the Mystery Shack came into view.  

“Trust me, Grunkle Ford! You got this! She's into nerd stuff like DD&MD! She's a librarian and she’s a historian!! And she likes listening to you rant about your research! Plus she's beautiful! It doesn't get any better than her!!” Mabel yelled as they sat on the couch outside the shack. 

“Yeah, in fact I know just what I need to do!!” Ford declared as he grabbed a graph journal full of blueprints for inventions out of one of his trenchcoat inner pockets.  

****** 

“This was a terrible idea,” Ford whispered as he hid from Flirt B0t 3000.  

“Wow, really who would've thought a robot built for romance would've been a terrible idea? Let's see, uh everyone!” Dipper harshly whispered back. 

“This is Giffany all over again,” Mabel sighs as she hands Ford her compact so he can check around the corner for Flirt B0t 3000. 

As he did so, the robot's half melted face snapped in their direction, its intact eye rolling to look at him through the mirror. 

“When I say run, you run as far and fast as your legs can take you and don’t look back,” Ford harshly whispers, tightening his grip on his gun. 

“But Grunkle Ford!! We can help!” Dipper responds as he clutches a crossbow in his hand. After Weirdmageddon, he’d asked Wendy to teach him how to use one. 

Before Ford could argue further, Stan came around the corner baseball bat in hand. “Take this you stupid robot!!” He screamed swinging his baseball bat, just as Flirt B0t 3000’s head turned to face him. 

It’s head flies clear off, Dipper shooting it with his crossbow as it flies in front of him. Stan beat the headless body repeatedly until it stopped twitching and was nothing but a pile of mangled metal and wires. 

“Grunkle Stan!! How’d you know we needed help?” Mabel asked as she ran up to him, hugging him. 

Stan let out a small “oof” upon impact before explaining “Well, when Ford mentioned making a robot to practice asking out Y/n with and then none of you picked up the phone when I called, I figured it went horribly wrong. And would you look at that, I was right!” Stan kicked the robot's remains once more.   

“Thank you Grunkle Stan!! But did you see that shot!?” Dipper asked, laughing. 

“Sure did kid! Wendy's one hel-heck of a teacher ain't she?” He asked, giving Dipper a noogie. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed, grunting as he tried to get out of his head lock.

Stan released him before walking over to Ford and popping him upside the head. 

“What was that for Stanley?” Ford cried out rubbing the back of his head. 

“You know for someone so smart you sure can be a real dumbass sometimes. I may not be the best at romance or reading signals but even I can tell that you and her like each other. So for God's sake just ask her out already!” Stan harshly whispered to Ford as he gave him a hug. 

“Yeah, you're right. I mean the worst she can say is no right? Oh God what if she says no? I don't think I can do this!” Ford panicked, pacing. 

“Look Poindexter! You got this, you're the total package, even with those sideburns! Just take a deep breath and go ask her out before you lose your nerve,” Stan said, nudging Ford.

Ford ran out of his laboratory in the basement and headed for the library. 

“Ten bucks says he chickens out,” Stan says, waving at Ford's retreating figure. 

The young twins sigh in unison, shaking their heads at Stan's antics. 

******

Since Ford had awkwardly asked you out that first time a little over a month ago, you’d been spending almost all of your time together. Flowers from Ford littered your cottage and desk at work, and Ford would often have smudges of your dark red lipstick on his face. Even Lady Arson the III approved of him, and she never seemed to like any of your dates. You were both falling hard and fast for one another. 

But you still hadn’t told him about the whole you being a witch thing. Afraid of losing him, even if he was a lover of the supernatural you didn’t know if he still would, once you tell him the truth. You haven’t felt this way about someone since college. But every time you thought about telling him, you chickened out. 

Tonight though, you were going to have a picnic on the hill near your cottage and Ford was going to bring a telescope so you could stargaze. After mentioning to him how you loved astronomy but only ever got to see the stars in textbooks and online since you grew up in New York.  

You hoped nothing paranormal would interrupt your date, seeing as you were planning on finally telling him about your powers maybe. But of course, you just had to say it out loud. 

And well, now here you are in your cute floral sundress and cardigan fighting a very hostile spirit after it had attacked you and Ford while you were skipping stones at the nearby lake. Ford almost cracked his head on the rocks when he stumbled back in shock, at hearing the haunting childlike laughter reaching into his trench coat for holy water.  The category four spirit took this as an opportunity to attack, its cute face morphing into that of horror as it rushed towards the two of you.   

But then much to his surprise, you shoved him behind you before raising your hands and suddenly it slammed against a forcefield you had seemingly created if your glowing hands were any indication. Then a blast of blue light emanated from your open raised palms and the spirit froze before evaporating into thin air.

You sighed in relief before lowering your hands and wiping your brow. You then turned and began kissing Ford's face, pecking all about after you checked him over for injuries.You finally pull away when you feel satisfied with Ford’s blushing disposition. 

“Thank the stars you're okay! I can't believe we stumbled upon a hostile spirit all the way out here. My wards and presence usually keep stuff like this from happening,” you said sighing deeply. 

Ford stuttered his brain attempting to reboot after seeing you use your powers and you kissing his face so much,”Your wards, as in magic? Magic that I just saw you use. Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned as she paced in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I—” you cut yourself off sighing deeply. “My being a witch isn’t exactly an ice breaker that I bring up on dates. You know how I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? It ended when she found out I was a witch and since then I just have gotten used to hiding that side of myself from anyone that didn’t already know. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just didn’t want to scare you off because I’m falling for you and I think I might actually even be in love with yo—” Ford cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you passionately. 

You stutter, before humming into the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands as one of his hands makes its way to your waist.  You have matching goofy smiles as you pull away for breath resting your foreheads against one another. 

“You could never scare me off because in case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, darling.” he whispered softly to you, staring into your eyes as you bit your lip bashfully. 

You could feel the heat flushing your face as you felt him pull you closer. In the moonlight, you could see that he was blushing fiercely. You kiss him deeply, opening a portal behind you as you pull him backwards. 

You trip and fall right onto your bed at the cottage, much to Ford’s shock as he pulls away from you. He looks around baffled. 

“Fascinating! You can create portals? I knew that witches existed but I didn't know you could do that!! What else can you do?” Ford asked excitedly as he began to sit up reaching for his journal.  

You followed, grabbing his trench coat lapels, kissing him and flipping him to his back. Ford’s hands went slack, his focus recentered on you as you pulled away with a self satisfied smirk.   

“We can have a Q & A later, right now I’m more interested in other things,” Y/n breathed out before grinding on Ford's lap, feeling his hardness grow underneath you. 

Ford blinked, swallowing as he let out a whine at your continued movement. You kissed his lips again before muttering a soft “Off,” lifting the hem of his turtleneck. He eagerly obliged–almost knocking you in the face if not for your quick reflexes–practically ripping off his trench coat and turtleneck and flinging them across the room. You pulled your cardigan off as you admired his slightly pudgy and hairy physique before running your hands up his hairy yet muscular arms.  

He moaned as you ground down on him again, gripping the back of his neck as you clung to him. You giggled into his mouth, kissing him before standing to remove your sundress and flats. Ford followed suit, kicking off his combat boots and damn near ripping his pants and underwear as he pulled them off. Almost tumbling to the ground as he did so, causing you to both giggle. Until he looked up at you, breath catching at the sight of you still in your matching black lace bra and panty set.

He surges forward, kissing you like a man possessed and kneading your ass. You moan into his mouth, as you feel your panties dampen with your arousal. You feel his hard cock standing at attention, smearing precum onto your stomach. 

Before you know it, Ford has you lying on the bed kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs. He lingers at your chest, sucking at your nipples through the lace before removing the barrier entirely. You shudder at the attention he gives your nipples, sucking one and rolling the other in his hand. 

You whine as he releases his grip on your chest and his mouth moves south. He teasingly kisses your aching clit and nips at your thighs before slowly pulling down your underwear. 

You buck your hips slightly at the feeling of his breath on your now exposed cunt. 

“Gorgeous,” you hear him whisper before diving in and eating you out like you were his last meal.  

You mewl as he laps at your folds before latching onto your clit and sucking. You buck your hips and whimper as you attempt to shut your legs. Ford pins your right thigh with one hand before moving to open you up with his other. 

You gasp and grasp at his hair roughly when you feel his index finger at your entrance before slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly, whining as he thrusts his finger in and out before adding another. Your eyes slam shut as your back arches at the feeling. 

He scissors his fingers briefly before he makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You begin to shake, your heels digging into his back from where your legs have been perched over Ford's shoulders. 

You whimper out a soft “oh fuck,” the only warning Ford receives before you're cumming all over his face. Whining and moaning as he fingers you and sucks at your clit through your high, moaning into your cunt. Which triggers another harsher orgasm as you sob out, pushing Ford's face away. 

You look down at him between your thighs, his face flushed and glasses askew as he kisses your thighs. As if to apologize for the accidental overstimulation, your chest heaving and thighs twitching still as you smooth out his messy hair. 

You sit up and pull Ford's mouth to yours by the nape of his neck. Kissing and licking into his mouth roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth cupping your face gently. 

You both pull away to breathe, foreheads pressed together. “Are you sure you're up for more?” Ford questions against your lips. 

You smirk as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking its ruddy head. “Oh, I'm just getting started baby boy” you whisper in his ear as he whimpers in yours. 

You flip your positions again, spreading your thighs over his as you position yourself over his cock. Grasping his cock and guiding it towards your entrance, your other hand gripping the sheets by Ford's head. You moan in unison as you sink down his thick cock, gasping when you're fully seated. 

Ford whines as you begin to ride him, slowly at first before gaining a rough rhythm. You pin his hands above his head as he gasps at the sudden move.  Moaning loudly as you nip and lick at his neck, his eyes rolling back. 

You giggle sinfully in his ear, before moaning as he flips you onto your back. Ford grips your hips “My turn,” he growls out before beginning a punishing rhythm that has you crying out once more, tears streaming down your face. 

Your hands grip the sheets before clawing at Ford's back, causing him to moan, and move a hand to grip at the bedspread. 

“Fuck!! I'm close, are you there yet darling?” Ford pants out. 

It takes you a minute to speak coherently, gasping out “Inside, cum inside me! I need it, please” you manage to babble out through your tears.  

“Shit,” Ford hisses, moving to rub at your clit in rough circles. 

You whine and cry out Ford’s name as you writhe, your grip on Ford adjusts as you pull him in for a rough kiss. 

You both moan into the kiss as your walls flutter around his twitching cock. He groans at the feeling, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. You pant into each other's mouths as he breathes out “Cum for me, darling.” 

You let out a silent scream as you cum for a third time, Ford groans as he feels your wetness drench yours and his thighs as you squirt on his cock. His head drops to your neck as he bites your shoulder, shuddering as he thrusts deeply, his spend coating your walls as you pant and sigh. 

You lock your feet together around his waist as he collapses onto you. You play with his hair as the smell of sex and sweat permeates the air in the afterglow. 

You wince as you feel his softening cock slowly pull out. He groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your wet cunt. You feel your combined cum drip down to the crack of your ass as you sit up. 

“So, I'm a mess. Wanna help me clean up?” You smirk up at him, eyes glinting deviously. 

He laughs before pulling you up, “I thought you'd never ask,” you both smile into the kiss you share as you grab his hand, kissing it and leading him to your bathroom.  

You might just send the council a thank you basket for sending you to Gravity Falls after all. . . 

******

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this!

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter two: the arrival

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!SHIElD!reader

masterlist

summary: being a SHIELD agent, you have a knack for analysing people, particularly when it comes to attraction. you have everyone figured out, sorted away into the boxes you've created. But there's one man you can never seem to figure out, the very bane of your existence -- Bucky Barnes. On the field, he is a saint, helping you dodge bullets and taking knife wounds in your name. Around the building? Public menace number one, always poised to insult or to spar with you.

After being sent on a 6-month-long torture-cum-vacation with the very man, could all this change? Could you finally figure out what has been bubbling beneath the surface for years between the two of you, the juggernaut that you know you cannot stop?

warnings:  language, heavy mentions of sex, brief and non-specific mentions of Bucky’s past

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @cjand10 @mcira

PREVIOUS PART

A/N: so excited for you guys to read! sorry ive been MIA recently -- the first half of august will be extremely stressful for me as I have my drivers theory test on the 10th, then I find out if I get into uni on the 15th, hopefully all goes well but you never know!! so for that reason, I haven't been able to write much since posting the first chapter, so updates might be every 2 weeks or so! im so sorry </3, but as always, please let me know how you're finding the story!!!!

The wedding band offers you a strange comfort as you twist it around and around your fingers, staring out of the window of the private jet. It’s a simple golden band, with your initials and Bucky’s engraved onto the inner edge. You hate it, but are too ashamed to vocalise it. It was less than a week ago that you were sobbing on the floor about pretending to be married, and now the wedding band, his initials rubbing against your skin on the inside of it gives you solace?

Bucky notices, because of course he does. He moves to sit directly in front of you, and you turn to him. Officially, the two of you are on the clock now, and so you keep your face impassive, instead of scowling or staring angrily at him. He leans back in his seat, shoving his hands into the dark leather jacket you’re all too familiar with, slouching. He’s wearing jeans the same colour as his eyes, and a red henley that’s just peeking through the top of the jacket. Average, suburban white guy, with a bit of New York flair. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.” He states simply, like it’s the most abhorrent fact he’s ever had the displeasure of narrating. You nod, trying your best to not let a snarky remark sneak past your lips, currently coloured in a sheer red. 

“I don’t want to get sick of you too soon. It’s the longest we’ve ever been on any mission. You remember Bucharest, right? How we were almost at each other’s throats in two weeks, and because of us poor Sam spent a week in the medbay? I don’t want that to happen again.” He glances down at the memory, as if humiliated by the outcome of that mission. You know you are — you still check Sam’s hands to see if he’s still healing. You assume he’s done with talking to you and turn to stare back out the window, admiring the green fields and fluffy clouds.

“I understand. But that means we haven’t talked about anything. Like our cover story, how I proposed. Or how affectionate we’re going to be with each other.” 

“Well, you’re still going as James Barnes, aren’t you?” Realistically, you should’ve said The Winter Soldier. That’s what you mean, and he knows that. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to remind him of everything he’s trying to escape from. It seemed to be an unspoken boundary between the two of you, that you’ll never throw that title in his face, especially when you’ve seen the way he retracts from society and begins to shake in his seat at those three words, regardless of who uses them. His past, before you knew him, you decide to leave untouched. You couldn’t live with yourself if you belittled him and shamed him for things that happened to him, things that he was never in control of.

You’ve read the case files. You know the atrocities. You can’t do that to him. Even if he chose to cross that line, you can’t wound him in such a way, especially not for petty revenge. You want to annoy him, yes, but you don’t want him to truly ache irrevocably because of you. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

“Yes. And you’re still going as you?” You nod, gears turning in your head.

“We can say we met in Wakanda, and we were friends for 5 years. You were hopelessly in love with me the whole time, obviously. But I only started seeing you as more than a friend after… we went to a friend’s wedding together, and I didn’t have a partner so I dragged you along with me. When they exchanged their wedding vows, I realised that what you and I had was special, and that you’re ridiculously handsome. And the rest is history.” You shrug, hating that you’ll have to admit to his stupid, pretty face that he has a stupid pretty face.

“How’d you come up with that? You don’t really seem the romance type…”

You think for a moment, reabsorbing the insult that you almost fire at him. Is he implying that you’re a slut, again?

“Just because I’ve never been serious about anyone before, doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster, James. I’ve read books, and seen TV shows. I prefer romance, to remind myself that somehow, sometimes, men can be at least decent.” Your eyes bore into his then, silently expressing your anger. “And I’d really appreciate it if half of your insults toward me aren’t slutshaming. Keep it to yourself.” You can’t help it.

His eyebrows furrow, and somehow he looks even sexier. God, you hate how your sexual attraction toward him peaks when he’s civil with you. “What? I’ve never…”

“Yes you have, don’t lie. Almost every other sentence you say to me, you mention me sleeping around. Now, I don’t give a fuck what you think, but it’s beginning to get annoying. You wanna get your marks up? Find some new material.”

“Butterscotch, no. That’s—That’s not what I mean. You’re the only person I’m ever around who’s had so much sex, but it’s not a bad thing. Definitely not a bad thing. It just genuinely seems to me that whenever I see you, you’re always planning to hook up with someone. That’s why. I’m not shaming you for having sex, do whatever the fuck you want. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise, or if that’s why you hate me.” You’re constantly shifting between staring out the window, and at him, but when he apologises you can’t help but give yourself whiplash, wondering if he’s joking.

A million more questions circle your mind, and your anger flares up before you can stop it. You stand up, walking over to where he sits. He watches your face, as you grip the armrests and lean down so you’re uncomfortably close to him. He gets flustered so quickly, it’s another one of your favourite weaknesses of his to exploit. “You think that’s why I hate you? I hate you, because you’re an arrogant, self-centred bitch, who’s only ever treated me like shit.” In truth, he’s only arrogant and self-centred when it comes to you. To everyone else, he’s as sweet and humble as they come, and that’s what bothers you the most. 

That he’s chosen to have some personal vendetta against you from the very first night he met you, when you tried to be kind. You greeted him, smiled at him, bought him a vinyl player and limited edition vinyls from the 40s in mint condition for his fucking birthday, and all he ever was, was cruel to you. He scowled, he turned away from you. He all but threw your thoughtful gift across the room and fled from the birthday party.

That was your breaking point, when you decided that he’s not worth it. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was fresh out of Wakanda at the time, and you thought that maybe he was just having trouble reintegrating into society, what with the hell he’d been through. But then, you noticed the way he spoke to Nat with a wide smile on his face, how he loved to laugh with the other agents, and you noticed it was just you that he was still closed-off and horrid to. That’s when you began to be cruel, began to insult him and scowl right back, mirroring his expressions 

You’d never done it before then, but it felt so natural, so deserved. And then it had become second nature, as easy as blinking, or finding someone new to sleep with. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that you’d found yourself, for the first time, having strong and true romantic feelings for someone, and then he shut you down like that. How could you not? With a face like that, and an unwavering passion in those cobalt eyes, how could you not form some semblance of attachment? 

You briefly remember the way you’d acted around him, like a giggling schoolgirl who’s just dipped her toes into the dating world. How naive you had been, how foolish. It all just makes you grimace now, fuelling the flames of your hatred all that much more.

He searches your eyes, trying to dig beneath all the malice. As if you’d let him. He must know that to poke the bear is futile at this stage, because he decides to change the topic.

“And what about me proposing? How long have we been married? Where did we go on our honeymoon?” Your faces are so close…if he were half a decent person you wouldn’t leave any room for him to even breathe at this current second.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna carry all the braincells on this mission, Barnes.” You retreat back to your seat, slumping over yourself, trying to ignore all of the bitter memories that have just been dragged to the forefront of your mind. 

A brief silence descends over the two of you, and you swivel your attention once again to the landscape outside, buckling your seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that you’re about to land.

“One day, I asked you over to my apartment, on our three year anniversary. December 22nd. I cooked you your favourite meal, chicken biryani with that raita that you like, and red velvet cake for dessert. It was a candlelit dinner in my tiny apartment, with a red tablecloth the same colour as your dress. After the dinner I asked you to marry me, reciting stanzas and stanzas of prose about how beautiful and amazing you are, and how in love with you I am. Then, we made love until dawn, obviously.” 

A smile graces your face at his last words, at how innocent he appears when he refers to having sex as making love. The sentiment is sweet.

His seeming innocence catches you off guard at times — he’s been amongst all the agents and Avengers for eight years now, as opposed to your 13. The agents are always throwing themselves at him, especially those not into women, at all. You’ve often assumed he hooks up with most of them, seeing as Steve’s often recounted stories of what a charmer he was back in the 40s. And when he’s nice, you doubt anyone could resist him.

So why does he seem so new and inexperienced to most things? Another mystery you can’t be asked to solve.

“God, you’re just dying to have sex with me, aren’t you?” You tease, letting your grin  mould into something a little more sadistic, indicating that the thick, putrid air of a few minutes ago has passed.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, the story pretty much requires it.”

You nod in mockery. “Uh huh, of course. You pervert, we’re not going to tell anyone that. The idea of premarital sex will probably give half the kids in those suburbs a heart attack.” His eyes rake up and down your figure, and you give him your most salacious grin. You usually reserve it for men across the bar, when you catch them checking you out. It’s reserved for inviting them over for casual conversation and bathroom sex.

On Bucky? It flusters him to hell and back when he’s on the receiving end of it. Just like it is right now, as he tries desperately to hide the blush that’s spreading quickly across his cheeks. He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob against his throat in an almost predatory manner.

It’s in moments like these you’ve often thought about hate sex. Specifically with Bucky, about what it would be like to pull on his hair, to boss him around like you usually enjoy to. Would he listen to you? Or would he bark orders of his own at you, gripping at every inch of you desperately? But you’re scared, because he’s the first person to ever make you want to pursue them romantically, and you’re scared all the hate will melt away with every gentle yet scorching touch, leaving you vulnerable.

You hate being vulnerable.

“We’ve only been married a month, and we went to Spain for our honeymoon. We just got back two weeks ago to finish packing.” He completes, and it seems simple enough. You notice how his voice shakes ever so slightly, still influenced by the way you look at him, and the way he refuses to make eye contact. 

“Sounds good. We’ll stick with that then.” You offer, not bothering to look at him twice as you leave the jet and step into the family sedan that Bucky’ll be driving.

You sigh as you sink into the passenger seat in a car that smells too clean, staring out the window as if bored. You wonder if either of you will be able to not kill the other in these six months.

In your mind, you either fuck or fight it out. There’s no other way you’re emerging. 

You wonder which option he’d choose, studying him as he settles in beside you, so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s taken off his leather jacket and shoved it to the backseat, exposing his arms and—his left arm is no longer metal.

He catches you staring — he’s always looking for an excuse to stare at you. “Fury handed it to me after the initial briefing. It fits over my arm like a second skin, so it looks normal. I’m supposed to be trying to get back that normal life, remember? Fury said it’ll help disillusion and distance me from The Winter Soldier in these civilian’s minds.” Somehow, it sends a pang through your heart, still, at the way he’s trying to not lose his shit and start crying at even the thought that they’ll still see him as an empty weapon, a vessel for unimaginable evil. You soften.

“Here, let me drive — you just learned what a car was, like, six months ago. Plus it’s manual. I know Steve only let you learn automatic. Come on, stop being a bitch and switch with me.” You’re goading him, holding out your hand for the keys as he blindly stares at the console, trying to process how you know that fact about him. 

Steve and you are close, best friends even. That’s why. He turns off the engine and does as he’s told, mind probably currently too occupied with awful memories to register you’re being soft with him.

As you settle into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors as he stares down into his lap. “Besides, when you walk in there unarmed and without a murderous look on your face, they’ll know, James. It’s been years.” Your tone is too gentle, too gentle considering your history. But you can’t help yourself, and you let your hand gently touch his arm even though he won’t feel it. He looks up, and you see his eyes brimming with tears.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if they see right through me?” His voice is so small, unlike any tone he’s ever taken with you.

“It will. It will work, they won’t see right through you. If they know who you are, you know they followed your trial, your rehab in Wakanda. They know you were pardoned. And they’ll know when you treat all the kids with respect, because you’re good with them. When you help the seniors cross the road, when you help the sexy neighbour with her groceries. They’ll know, because you’re good. You have a good heart, and you treat almost everyone you know with nothing but love and affection. Just because I’m not on the receiving end of it, doesn’t mean I can’t see that. Trust your gut, James. It’ll all be fine. And if I can pull off being in love with you, they’ll definitely see it too. I’ll sing your praises to everyone in town, I’ll do everything to convince them if I have to. Because that’s the only way our cover will work. This is official business, James. This isn’t you and me around the Tower, or sparring in the gym. Just trust me here, okay?” You don’t know why you’re sympathetic, you don’t know why you care. You don’t know why you’re saying all of these things like you’re falling in love with him, all you know if that he’s falling apart and you have to try and stop it.

You have to try and be there for him, gripping his hand between both of yours, trying to offer a physical reminder that he’s in the car with you, not back in that horrid lab or in the sterile courtroom as some bald, red-faced lawyer tries to write him off as the most heinous cretin to disgrace this planet. You look at him and he looks at you and the tension is almost palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. You have no idea what’s happening to you.

“Okay.” He says quietly, his thumb stroking the side of your hands. Sam beeps the horn behind you, him and Steve posing as the movers and carriers you and James have hired. 

It startles you out of the moment, reminding you of your rapid heart, beating so fervently against the jail of your ribs that you feel it in your fingertips. You turn to the road ahead, signalling to the PARKER PACKERS AND MOVERS truck towing behind you. You swallow, hopefully taking any softness for Bucky along with it.

It’s going to be a long six months.

NEXT PART

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Jealousy

Fill for #7 on this list featuring poor Rolan watching his fiancée get hit on at a ball. He decides to do something about it. NSFW.

“Rolan, at least try to smile, sweetie.” His fiancée’s mother lightly chided the Master of Ramazith’s Tower. He, Amelie, and her mother were attending yet another boring ball hosted by idiots. He was already in a sour mood when they arrived. There’s been a setback in repairing the glass observation dome at the tower. There was a parade of rude customers in the shop today. These new dress boots are hurting my damn feet. The wine here is piss.

But then he saw something that made him seethe.

His beautiful, perfect fiancée was speaking to a human noble who was standing too close.

Too, too close.

Amelie very clearly knew the gentleman, chuckling softly at something he said.

He had not felt it in the months, not since their engagement was announced and her companions went their separate ways.

A dark, ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She is mine. MINE.

“Rolan, there’s…oh dear. Off he goes.” The countess laughed, shaking her head, watching her future son-in-law stride with purpose across the ballroom.

Heart pounding in his chest, Rolan downed the rest of his wine and placed the chalice on a tray before resuming his mission.

Yes, mission.

To save my beloved from…someone she knows and is happily speaking to.

Turning her head, the half-elf caught his glance and grinned. “Oh Stannik, this is my fiancé Rolan—”

He as discreetly as possible wrapped an arm around her ample waist, his hand resting on a hip. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he began as politely as possible. “But may I borrow you, my dear?”

Borrow.

As if I should have to borrow my future wife from an ingrate like this “Stannik.”

As if I should have to be gracious when he was CLEARLY flirting with her.

As if I should have to be a gentleman at all times…

Unaware of her fiancée’s inner turmoil, Amelie smiled at him. “Of course, love.” She looked at the human and nodded. “Please excuse me.”

Pleasantries out of the way FINALLY, Rolan guided her out of the ballroom.

“Rolan, is something wrong?”

There must be a private room somewhere…

“Are you alright, love?”

I am FINE AND DANDY, sweetling.

There!

He hastily unlocked the door, which turned out to be a washroom. Both now inside, he locked the door.

For privacy, of course.

Amelie barely opened her mouth before his lips crashed into hers.

Mine.

Mine.

My Amelie.

She is mine.

All mine.

Forever mine.

My intellect, my talent, my heart, my soul, my body…all belong to her.

She is mine as I am hers.

Breaking the kiss and completely breathless, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Rolan, what has gotten into you?”

He truly wished to say, “You.”

Instead, he huffed, “He was flirting with you, Mia! And I was standing across the room! Watching him! Flirt with you!” His hands stayed firmly on her hips, which he noticed were fuller than they were previously. She told me yesterday that she’s the happiest she’s ever been. Happy and content with our life together.

She blinked. “Was he?”

Rolan groaned. “Darling, really!”

“How was I supposed to know? He’s always been nice to talk to at these things, but I never thought he would flirt with me.” She frowned. “I’m sorry?”

FUCK.

You idiot.

You fool.

You utter swine!

“No, no, no darling. That’s not what I meant. I’m not blaming you in the slightest. I simply—”

A manicured nail touched his lips, silencing him. Any trace of sadness and confusion in her golden eyes was gone and replaced with amusement. And lust. Gods. “You simply wished to remind Stannik that I’m your fiancée and not his? That I’m going to marry you and not him?” She closed the admittedly small gap between them, her body flushed against his. Hands once again on his shoulders, her lips curled into a smile. More like a smirk, you saucy little— “That I’ve given you my all and not him?”

He nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Did you want to take me in the middle of the ballroom, my love?” she whispered against his lips. “Scream that I’m your Mistress of Ramazith’s Tower?” Amelie captured him in a quick kiss before she let out a squeak as he gripped her hips and forced her backwards against the sink.

Chuckling heartily, Rolan pawed at the hem of her gown. A light and airy rose pink gown with various embroidered summer flowers. Another piece from Astarion. “No, but I do want to take you here, sweetheart.” He began to pull at her smalls, getting off and placing them on the counter. He then grunted as he undid his trousers. “Going to show you…how much I…” How much I love you. How much I desire you. How much I need you.

Bringing his face to hers, she kissed him slowly as he lined himself to her entrance, gasping at how bloody wet she is. Zurgan, she’s going to be the death of me. Moans escaped their lips as his ridged member slid inside her. “Rolan…take me, love…”

As you wish.

He was going much faster than he would have been if they were at home and not in a washroom at a ball, much to his dismay. Still though, I’ll make her feel wonderful. How could I not? With a few deep thrusts, he came just as she did. His hold on her remained firm as she was more than a little unsteady. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetling. I’ve got you.”

Long, soft arms around his neck, his fiancée nodded wordlessly, still catching her breath.

I will always have you, dearest. Always.

“I do believe this is the longest time we’ve gone with you cleaning us after lovemaking, my handsome wizard.” Amelie teased.

Gods, I love seeing her like this---happy, carefree, full of joy.

He grimaced and then muttered the spell. “I barely call whatever that was lovemaking, sweetheart. It was barely a fuck.”

A wave of giggles erupted from her as she kissed all over his cheeks and mouth.

Perfectly content being in a washroom with her future husband.

Certainly better than going back to that bloody ball.

[anincompletelist]

feb + march recs <3

[other rec links below the cut!]

y'all know the drill! as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

I had quite a few recs to catch up on - and am STILL catching up on - as I have been MIA with physical/mental health shenanigans as of late (so please excuse the fact that these are a bit angsty skjdhkjhd). thank you as always to these authors and their beautiful words for being a comfort! I love having a full 'to-read' list! :D

see you again soon, and happy reading! <3

+

I've Always Loved New York, Since Garlic Aioli | KingCaspianX | E | 12k

Alex would say that this date is going really, really well. It hurts to admit because he now owes Nora a six-pack of beer, but he’ll happily swallow his pride if it means he gets to spend as much time as humanly possible with the cute librarian with the elbow patches who’d asked him out last week. The cute librarian, Henry, is not wearing any elbow patches this evening, but is instead dressed in cream linen pants and a soft blue oversized shirt. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his skin, on his collar bones, down his neck from the balmy New York air but instead of being gross, the way Alex probably is, it’s sinful. He’s glowing. Alex wants to lick his throat. Jesus, he could have sworn he was straight a minute ago. Or, Henry asks Alex on a date. Alex, straight, accepts.

Henry's an Asshole (I Want to Kiss Him) | anarchyat4am | T+ | 7k

At the NYE Gala, Henry starts feeling the hazy edges of anxiety and an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. It takes him longer than it should to take notice of the feeling, and even longer to realise that the cause is likely the binder he’s been wearing all day. He escapes the party, Alex gets him upstairs to his room to change, and the rest of the night goes far differently than Henry could have expected.

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Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.

cause you're classic and I'm reckless | @firenati0n | T+ | 5k

“I've, actually, uh. I've never done this before.” At this, Henry stops short, takes a second as his gaze moves up and to the left, trying to recall something. “I've seen your films. You most certainly have done intimate scenes.” Alex clears his throat. He hopes his nerves aren't completely obvious, the slight waver in his voice about to give him away. “Yeah, well. Never with a man, so. Not at this scale, anyway.” “Would it help to, er, practice?" Henry winces a little as he says it, which does not inspire confidence. But Alex is shocked nonetheless. What the fuck?

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There are moments in Henry’s adolescence, maybe even later, when he feels he doesn't belong to anyone. He is no one’s son. He is no one’s little brother. He is no one’s partner. He isn’t related to anyone at all. He’s just there really, just existing. Just an entity. Though he thinks he’s realistically always felt this, it doesn’t make itself known until he turns thirteen. Or: moments from Henry's pov

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After years of taking suppressants to hide his omega status, after the email leak and the election, after things finally settle, Henry and Alex spend Henry’s first heat together.

say you'll see me again (even if it's just in your wildest dreams) | @coffeecatsme | T+ | 21k

5 times Henry is too scared to come out to Alex and 1 time Alex gives him the courage. Or, 6 times Alex slowly falls in love with Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, for exactly who he is.

*I HIGHLY recommend this entire series! check it out here!

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Nora helps June achieve her first vaginal orgasm.

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AKA ouroBROros, as dubbed by the Brownstone. The long awaited foursome fic. -- It’s late when they end up out in the yard, the fire from the firepit casting all of them in golden syrupy light under a dark sky. It feels like a night for secrets and Liam thinks it’s why he asks, Spencer’s hand a gentle pressure on his thigh.

cut | validvali | E | 12k

Holy fucking eyelashes. He’s all tan skin and bright eyes and charming smile— everything that makes Henry weak in the knees. Pretty brown eyes dart between the lineup and his clipboard, trying to put two and two together, but all Henry can focus on are those arms. Those hands. That arse. “Can I call you up, handsome?” Henry almost blacks out. [or, the five times alex and henry shoot a video together as (not so) strangers, and the one time they do as a couple.]

Silence & Sound | @nocoastposts | E | 2k

Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.

Through All My Cards | @cactusdragon517 | E | 7k

Alex, preparing for top surgery, gives in when June suggests he not recover alone. Enter her friend, Henry Fox.

I love you (ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard) | coffeecatsme | E | 20k

Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.

Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 7k

“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” [Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare]

At the end of a bar | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | E | 9k+

Alex has a supremely shitty day at work and finds himself wandering into a bar where a mystery man catches his attention.

What do you have against color? | jumpsuit | E | 11k

Upon opening the hardcover of a found sketchbook to locate the owner's contact details, Alex discovers only this inscription: In case of loss, please return to: Instagram @henryfox.usk He, of fucking course, knows who Henry Fox is. That striking yet humorless, rude, and self-righteous British prick he met on the first day of the symposium. [Or, an AU where Alex and Henry are urban sketchers. A short story of how they get to know each other, fall in love and in bed within one day.]

Sunless Dusting Libraries | @itsmaybitheway | T+ | 7k

Henry should leave, he should wait until everyone is asleep and then silently leave, without a trace. As if he never existed in Alex's life, as if he never touched Alex's body, as if he never wanted only exist in his heart and mind. Because that is what Alex deserves. Alex deserves someone who can love him out and proud, someone who is not shamed for his existence, someone as bright as him, not the pale starlight gleam Henry is. But lying there on the pile of mattresses they piled together and called a bed- Henry can not even find it in himself to breathe, let alone get up and go. Betrayed by his own existence, once again. [or: what-If taken by a depressive episode, Henry can not leave the lake house?]

each time we touch / I wanna take too much | firenati0n | M | 1k

Alex keeps his head angled away from the couch, leaning his back against the base for support as he pretends to be engrossed in conversation with Pez on the floor; pretends not to shamelessly eavesdrop on Henry's conversation with some girl on the opposite end of the couch, a classmate in Henry's course on human sexuality and expression. He digs his fingers into the frayed edges of the shaggy rug, feeling the soft strands slip through his hands as he keeps his eyes on Pez. Keeps his ears on Henry, who's sitting behind him, his knee occasionally nudging Alex's back as he talks animatedly, his whole body moving as he gestures; all languid limbs, lithe body, loose lips, lazy smiles.

to repair a hollowed heart | coffeecatsme | E | 28k

Alexander Claremont-Diaz, the young ruler of the Underworld, the presider of souls that have passed away, has been banned from Olympus his entire life, on account of bringing death and destruction wherever he goes. His seat in the highest council of gods has been left permanently empty until someone sees all that he is and still falls in love with the man behind. It's been twenty centuries since the curse has been put upon him, and Alex has long since given up on finding the right person. [Or, a Hades and Persephone AU no one asked for]

+

back with more soon! see my other recs below:

vol i

vol ii

vol iii

vol iv

vol v

emotional hurt/comfort

kid fics

tag for all recs

xx

[da-rulah]

Is there any way you could do one about Copia surprising reader with the prime mover ritual on their 5th wedding anniversary because he sees reader with the children of the clergy

This is such a sweet idea.... I hope this is the kind of thing you wanted 🥹

TW/ Mildly suggestive theme.

It was never the right time.

Between tours, Copia's ascension, your own promotions within the clergy and the mountains of work that needed doing, it had never been the right time.

In fact, since the day you had married, you hadn't had the time.

Which is probably why you spent as much of your free time as you could at the nursery for the children of the Clergy and Siblings. It wasn't your job, you had no duty there but in the absence of the chance to have your own children, you had found yourself wanting to just be around them, maternal instincts too strong.

Copia had just returned from another tour - finishing in Australia this time, and he was looking forward to a few months respite before heading out again on another album cycle. He could spend All Hallow's Eve with you, Yule too but most importantly, your wedding anniversary was coming soon - the first he'd been able to spend with you at home in two years.

After spending some time recovering from his ridiculous jet lag, he had emerged looking for you one morning to find you playing with the children of the Clergy, jumping into piles of raked leaves in the grounds of the Ministry.

His heart thrummed in his chest at the sight. How radiant you looked, surrounded by the autumnal oranges and reds, smiling so brightly as you skipped through the piles, throwing some over the children with a laugh that sounded like the sweetest song.

He ached to give you that, to give you the children he knew you'd always wanted. He wanted that too, wanted to be the father he never had to a tiny version of you...

You looked up to see him stood on the steps of the Ministry, stilling the spin you were in whilst holding a little one's hands and waving to him instead, beautiful smile widening at the sight of your husband, your Papa, watching on. Had you been any closer, you might have see the glossy look in his eyes, but from a distance, you were none the wiser that anything was amiss.

It was this look that gave him the idea.

A week had gone by, and he'd seen you more often that not playing with the children at the nursery or out in the leaves again. He saw you teaching them to paint, to read, to dance, and his heart swelled a little more each time.

The night of your Fifth wedding anniversary had come around quickly, and as far as you were aware, you were to join him for dinner, meeting at his office once you were ready, in the gorgeous deep red gown he had bought for you - if you liked it, of course. His little (expensive) treat.

But when you arrived at his office, he was nowhere to be seen. You sighed, hoping he hadn't been tangled up with Sister Imperator in an overrun meeting or got into a verbal boxing match with his useless spectre of a father again. But you noticed a note on his desk, addressed to 'mia cara moglie' - his darling wife.

Cara,

Please join me in the Chapel, I have my gift to you waiting.

Hurry - I can barely wait any longer.

~ C

You wondered what on earth he could possibly have waiting in the Chapel for you - you could only imagine he had set up a picturesque dinner surrounded by candlelight, perhaps with his newer Ghouls playing their beautiful cellos in the background.

On your way through the halls, you noticed an eerie feeling, a stillness, a quietness you should only experience in the early hours of the morning in these halls... But not a single sibling or ghoul was in sight, not a shuffle of feet or a click of a door latch... Just silence.

When you reached the large double doors of the Chapel, two of Papa's favourite Ghouls - Swiss and Phantom - were stood, hands clasped behind them, in their formal attire.

"This is a bit much for dinner, boys..." you laughed. They shared a look that you couldn't quite discern from behind their masks... You grew suspicious.

Without a word, they opened the doors, stepping to the side to allow you to see just what Copia had waiting for you.

The Chapel was full, standing room only. Every single sibling and clergy member filled the pews, the balconies, lined the walls. When the doors had opened, they all stood and turned to face you. And then you noticed Copia...

He stood at the alter, Sister Imperator to his left, and Papa Nihil floating to his right. He was dressed in his Papal robes, gems glinting beautifully on his Mitre in the candlelight. He smiled at you, taking a deep breath out of his own nerves, and held his gloved hand out to you.

Swiss and Phantom moved to your sides, offering their elbows to walk you down the aisle between the pews of the Chapel. As you did, your audience sent you looks of happiness, of pride. They looked at you like they had on your wedding day, five years ago.

At the front of the Chapel, the Ghouls stepped away from you, bowing to Papa and making themselves scarce to the edge of the Chapel. Copia removed his gloves, and took your hands in his.

"Copia, what's going on? Are you... are we renewing our vows?" you asked, fighting tears as the mere thought of it.

"In a way, Cara... I wanted to ask you something," he brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles, one at a time. "I have so much I wish to give you, so much more to offer you. But this must come first. And if you are not ready, I will understand, and a vow renewal is all this will be."

Your heart beat like a hummingbird's wings in your chest, sending rippling flutters through your body. He wasn't about to... surely not...

"I could never imagine my future without you, you know this. And what a future we could have," he began, "Amore mio, would you ascend with me? Will you become my Prime Mover?"

The Hummingbird stopped. Time stopped. The earth's rotation stopped.

Prime Mover was a step above marriage; it was a sacred binding, offered only to the truest of soulmates, the chosen few who would continue the lineage of the Papacy. It had to be passed from one Prime Mover, to the next - like a crown from one Queen to the next.

And here was Sister Imperator, ready and waiting to give that to you.

"Copia... Prime Mover?" you asked, in disbelief. You hadn't talked about the lineage for so long, hadn't thought the time for children together would be anywhere close and yet this was exactly what he was asking of you.

To perform the Ancient Rite, to bind yourselves under Lucifer's gaze and receive his blessing to bring new life into the world to continue his work.

"If you are ready, amore..." You saw his anxiety, waiting for an answer that you hadn't given yet.

"Y-yes... Yes. Of course! I want to be your Prime Mover... I want that with you, Copia," you launched yourself forwards in a moment of unceremonious need to be close to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and almost knocking his Mitre from his head. He steadied himself in time, enveloping you in his long sleeves of his robes as he held you to him.

"Then let's perform the ritual, the binding... And then the rest of the night, amore..." he pulled back from your embrace, moving to whisper in your ear for only you to hear, "we will spend together. Alone."

A rush of goosebumps raised on your skin at his promise, and he winked at you as he pulled back.

"Sister, we are to go ahead..." he smiled at his Mother, who in her pride, could only nod and smile back without tears spilling from her eyes.

And after the vows, the incense, the blood oath... Copia took you back to your quarters as promised - as his Prime Mover, future mother to his children.

And he would not let you go until he was sure he had completed the ritual...

[yanderepuck]

Okay so like.. we don't KNOW how old Kuya and Quincy are, but I wanna guesstimate that Kuya is a few hundred, and Huey has been MIA for what?? 70 years at this point and it seems like Quincy was around for quite a bit before that so I'm going like.. 150-200? Anyway. Not ENTIRELY important but bare with me.

@peachgardendreams and I never shut up over stupid ass headcanons alright. Hear us out.

Imagine this. Quincy is like 20, still living with the tribe. He knows the stories about the evil/mischievous fox spirit in the forest. And everyone knows to not interact with him if you see him.

Well Kuya being the little shit he is, sees Quincy doing his thing in the forest and is like "ooo. I wanna play with him" aka he wants to mess with him.

What does this lead to? Kuya going up to Quincy while he's hunting and scaring the shit out of him. He just appears next to him and is like "Hi~" and Quincy screams.

And this is where their marriage began. Literally. Kuya starts calling him his wife. Doesn't know his name. Every time he sees Quincy he goes "Hi wife"

Quincy refuses to go back into the woods for a while..he's hoping Kuya forgot about him. But instead Kuya leaves notes around his house while he's asleep.

Quincy going to the tribe leader like "how do i get rid of him?" Basically just gotta try to appease the fox spirit by giving it fried tofu. So he tries. He was just going to leave it in the woods where he has seen Kuya and run for it. But Kuya found him first.

Kuya again calls him his wife and Quincy is looking at him and is like "in what scenario do I fit the role of a wife"

But it fits with the funny idea that @peachgardendreams and I also have that bc 99% of Kitsune are women. Kuya grew up with only women and he knew he should have a wife instead of a husband, but then was only attracted to men

Kuya also found out that humans have marriage papers and made them for him and Quincy and he's like "See? We're married. Proof" he forged that man's signature.

Fast forward to when Quincy leaves the tribe. Kuya comes and visits him and is like "hi wife~" and Quincy is like "I have a name you know" and Kuya is like "Actually I don't know. You never told me." He was too worried he would be able to do something with his name like he's fae or some shit.

NOW FAST FORWARD TO PRESENT DAY

Eiden is visiting the tribe and they are preparing for a ceremony/ritual and he's asking what it's about. And they explain that they need to appease the fox spirit of the forest so that it doesn't try taking any more of their people.

Kuya cackling like a goddamn idiot over all this. He's committed to the bit for nearly 200 years. He's also like "aww. They have the ceremony around our anniversary ~" and Quincy is like "please shut up about that"

Wait wait wait. Kuya showing off the lil marriage papers and Edmond is like "you actually aren't married since this has never been filed" meanwhile Kuya boasted about being the first married gay couple in the territory.

Kuya glares at Edmond and is like "you're going to file this. And you're going to back date it to the date that's signed. Got it."

Anyway. Kuya calls Quincy his wife even though he is clearly the princess of the relationship.

[f1bordeaux]

If You Cared (Part 5) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.3k Poetry style | Story style A/n: This is it! It's once again rushed because after tonight I wont have my laptop until late October and I really wanted to get this out. So forgive any errors please. I'll rewrite one day! Also, later on I'll write a sequel if you guys want me to because I love this story and the characters. Anyways, enjoy and to those of you who came along for the whole ride, I appreciate you more than you know<3 Cheers and I'll see ya in October! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

Once your last suitcase was in the trunk, you were ready to go.

One flight took off the following morning at 6. You were willing to sit in that small, grocery store sized airport for a few hours. Anything not to see or think about him. Right now, every room in the house was drowning in memories. You were suffocating.

“Y/n, come inside please.” Your mother begged. It was pouring down rain, and you were sitting on the patio just watching the droplets ricochet off the pool water. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t mind.” You said.

She sighed, a signal of her defeat. When you left from the charity dinner, taking your mothers rental car with you, nobody but Mia followed. About an hour later, they all pulled into the driveway. Nobody said a word as they walked through the front door to see a pile of suitcases lined up. Nobody dared to even cough as they watched you throw them all in the trunk in the pouring rain. You were done. You’d had enough. Elba was just as dead to you as he was.

Mia begged you to stay the rest of the week, saying that it was Max who should leave, but you couldn’t explain to her how every square inch of the beach house reminded you of his touch. The kitchen brought back memories of his small, butterfly kisses when you both cooked dinner or when his hand would rest on your thigh at the kitchen bar. The living room just reminded you of all the times you fell asleep in his arms during a movie and how he would carry you to your room. Your bedroom was the worst spot of them all. Your sheets still smelled like him, the mirror still displayed his reflection, his clothes were still on your floor.

“I need to go home.” Was all you could say to Mia as she begged you not to.

“Y/n?” The patio door slid open softly, but you didn’t bother looking. “Can we talk?”

“I don’t really feel like speaking to you.”

Luca didn’t sit next to you, he didn’t walk up to you or approach you. Instead, he stayed behind you, speaking to your back. Never before had you or either of your siblings had a situation like this. The three of you had always been close but this. Luca had really done it this time. You also had a little resentment for Mia, too. She’d known for a while and still let you fall head over heels for Max. Was it her fault? No, but she could have said something. She should have said something.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Wow,” You scoffed. “Suddenly everything is all better! Me and Max are getting married tomorrow, want to be the ring bearer?”

“Y/n-”

“What was going through your mind, Luca? Hmm? Can I just ask you that?” You shook your head. It was hard to understand this whole situation.

“I didn’t think he’d take this seriously. I thought he’d say no and laugh it off.”

“But playing with my feelings in the first place was alright? Because you thought he’d say no it was alright?”

Luca fell silent. Obviously it wasn’t right, that much was known. But he didn’t know how to express how sorry he was, or how he didn’t think it would go this far. No matter what he said, you would come back and rebuttal his comment with something more emotional, something more meaningful. Luca wasn’t one with words, he never was and never would be. In this moment, he wished he was.

“Here.” He dropped five or six envelopes on the table next to you. “Maybe you wont forgive me, but this wasn’t his idea.”

Before you could say anything, he was inside, closing the glass door behind him. You looked at the off-white envelopes. They had your family's address on them, but your name was clearly written on there. The return address? The Verstappen house. Not Sophie and Victoria’s house, but the childhood house that Max and his father lived in.

Your heart sank.

After finding the oldest one, dating back to only a few months after he broke up with you, you slid it open and pulled out the paper. A photo fell out, alongside a dried up, flattened rose petal.

Y/n.

I miss you. It might sound selfish to say, but I really do.

I don’t think I ever realized how important love could be in life. I saw it as more of a form of entertainment rather than a necessity. I knew my feelings for you were real, I knew they were physical and emotional and everything in between, but I didn’t know how hard they’d be to get rid of. Leaving you hurt, it hurt so bad that I felt like I couldn’t breathe on my way home. But, I thought they’d go away once I was back with dad. I thought they’d be like a stomach ache or migraine. Like I said, though, they are much harder to get rid of than that. Seeing all the love that other drivers have at the track, seeing their girlfriends and moms and families hurts me. All I have is dad and, well, you know what that's like. I’ve realized that I need someone like you, someone I can laugh with, someone I can talk to, someone who will tell me it's ok and that I won't fail in life after a bad race. I need someone on my side, not someone who is only team Max when I win.

I think of you every time I race. I dedicate every win to you-and mom of course. In the photo I sent, I won my first F3 Grand Prix. It’s a huge step in the right direction and at this pace, I’m set to be the youngest F1 competitor if I can make the Toro Rosso team in a few weeks. I hope you’re there to see it.

I get it if you don't want to talk to me. I know I broke your heart and ruined the rest of your summer but please, if any drop of your feelings were real please write me back. I could use the support.

Love, Max.

Sure enough in the photo a young, 16 year old Max was hoisting a trophy in the air as champagne was sprayed on him. You picked up the rose petal and it crunched in your grasp. Where had these gone? Why didn’t you get any of them? You didn’t move out at sixteen, why didn’t you get them?

The other ones followed the same idea as the first; I miss you, I messed up, I’m making promising moves in my career, please answer my calls or reach out, I love you, Love, Max. And sure enough, every single one made you cry. Near the end of the last one, however, Max wrote;

Take this as my final goodbye. I hope you’re getting these but I’m not getting any response so maybe you’re not. I deserve this, I know. But, I was really hoping things would be different. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, y/n. If I could take it back, I would.

Dad told me to stop wasting time writing silly letters that get no response, so I guess this is my last one. Hopefully we can reconnect someday. I hope you're watching me on TV. I hope that a piece of you still loves me, as selfish as it sounds. There will always be a place for you in my heart, always.

Goodbye, y/n. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.

Max.

Your hand came up to cup your mouth. These letters were similar to the ones up in your room. Max loved to write, and on your 15th and 16th birthday, he wrote you two beautiful letters that you said you’d cherish forever. You left them in Elba when he broke your heart.

Without even thinking, you stood up, turning on your heel so quickly you were afraid you’d fall. With the letters cradled in your arms, you ran inside. The house felt empty. Nobody was around except for-

“Mia-” You called out in between tears. “Where is-where are-Max, where is Max?”

“He left-”

“What?”

She nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to him. Where did he go?”

“There’s a ferry leaving in like, thirty minutes. He’s going to get on that.”

You shook your head, tossing the letters on the counter before running to the front door. You grabbed a pair of keys and darted through the rain as your sister called out your name. Max at least deserved a chance to explain himself, right? Maybe he was too prideful, too nervous, too scared to speak to you himself. That was alright. You’d just go to him.

The drive was long, you were afraid you’d miss the ferry. It left at five am, you assumed, and it was 4:48 when you pulled into the dock. He was probably already on the boat, no? He was probably already in his seat waiting for the departure to begin. That wouldn’t stop you.

Maybe fate was on your side, maybe it was meant to be. Whatever it was, Max was standing in line to load onto the boat, suitcase in hand. “Max!” You shouted. He was still in his suit, you were still in your dress. Neither of you looked as elegant as before, but it would be wrong to say you thought he looked bad. 

He turned to look at you, his eyes wide when he saw who was calling your name. “Y/n?” Max turned out of line and walked near you.

In seconds your arms were around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that took him a few beats to reciprocate. You then pulled away, looking him in the eyes as tears flooded yours. He was confused, taken aback, even. “We need to talk.”

“But I’m leaving-”

“Please stay.”

-

“I’m mad at you, don’t get me wrong.” You said, looking off into the distance. There was a small cafe near the dock that was open for breakfast. So, the two of you sat outside and drank tea whilst looking like complete lunatics.

“So why’d you come get me?” He asked. “You could have completely let me go.”

“What good would that do? I would just hate you forever and it would eat me alive. Just like it did last time.”

Max shrugged. “I don't think I deserve a second chance.”

“Luca gave me the letters you wrote me as a kid.”

Max turned pale. “What?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I never got them as a girl or trust me, I would have written you back-or texted you at least.”

“I know you never got them.”

Did you hear him correctly? He knew? In the last letter he assumed you didn’t get them. “How’d you know?”

Max looked at the sunrise that was touching the horizon. The sky looked beautiful. There were no clouds, only bright shades of reds and yellows, blues and purples. The water from the ocean reflected the scenery perfectly. He didn’t know how to answer your question. It would be embarrassing if he did. He never planned on you seeing those even though he sent them.

“I was writing your address wrong. I was one number off or something, so they all got sent back at once. I sent them back after fixing it, but I called Luca and told him not to let you get them.” He said in one breath, cheeks igniting with a blush. “I was too embarrassed.”

That's why you didn’t get them.

You were torn. If he really cared he wouldn’t have taken the bet, right? If he really cared, he would have let those letters get to you. What if this was just another elaborate part of his plan? You wanted to believe it, you wanted to see the truth in Max’s story, but you couldn’t trust him. You couldn’t read him as well as you once could. A piece of you was saying, shut up and take it, he's your dream man, and another piece of you was saying, do better.

“Did you ever really care about me?” You asked.

Max looked at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“This summer,” You reiterated. “Did you ever really care about me? Be honest with me.”

Without missing a beat he said, “I didn’t just care about you, I loved you. I don’t like to admit my feelings-mainly because I grew up in a house where feelings didn’t exist-but I couldn’t hide the love I have for you. I’ve never been able to hide it. Ask dad, mom or Vic.”

You sighed. “The scary part is, Max, even after all this, even after I found out one of the worst things, even after I felt used and objectified, I still want you. Every part of my body is screaming no, telling me to run and leave without turning back but one small, small sliver of me is begging to stay.”

Max leaned across the table, palm coming to cup your chin. He smiled softly, his breath dancing across your cheek. It felt refreshing. It felt like summer. Perhaps things would be ok. Perhaps things would always be ok.

“So stay.” He said. “I promise to love you, y/n. I will love only you.”

Your lips connected to his. It was a soft kiss, one that reminded you of your first. Did you know what was going to happen once he went back to racing and you went back to work? No. Did you know if he was your boyfriend now? No. Did you know if things were going to work out? No. But honestly, nothing in life is for certain. But damn, sitting in front of an italian coffee shop, watching the sun rise over the ocean with Max’s lips on yours felt nice.

You were excited for a lifetime of moments like these. All of them with your childhood boyfriend by your side.

And yeah, you did feel like you could call him that now. You could call Max whatever the hell you wanted to.

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 16: Marry Me

A/n: I’m definitely not crying…. Sorry in advance for the sappy note: This series has been a whirlwind to write and I honestly went through it with this one. I hated it and loved it in equal measure (that’s on me though because I'm self-critical lol) but I'm truly sad it's over. I owe so much to this series, it was the first proper work I had published within this fandom, it brought me so many of you wonderful people. The main thing I want to say is thank you to every single person who read it, whether you’ve read one chapter or 16, THANK YOU!!! I just want to say that although the main series is over I am truly happy to continue writing little bits for these characters so if you have anything you want to see please let me know 🥹 I love you guys - Lou

Precious Part

Series Masterlist

The rest of the tour rolls by quicker than any of them expected. Matty and Lou spend every waking moment with each other and with their boys. The group laugh and drink and play the music they love and they're completely content. Their days are filled with the friends that were family now and their nights are filled with just them, their bodies and souls intertwined, their love being confessed and shown in every possible way they know how.

Each show seems better than the last and each of them are unsure whether it's because their love was always adapting and growing or whether it was because time was running out and they were hell bent on not letting it get taken for granted. They secretly thought it was a mix of both.

Lou and George would spend as much time together as they could, sometimes accompanied by Matty, usually wedged between them, sometimes resting across their laps (squashing them) or at their feet, the three of them laughing about things only they seemed to understand.

Lou and Ross would spend their time with Matty or sometimes with Mia when she was able to join them. Matty enjoyed watching the way they laughed together and felt privileged to hear them tell stories or spill secrets and confessions.

Adam and Carly would spend their time with the couple showing them ultrasounds or clothes they had bought for the little man. They'd talk about what they liked to call 'grown up things' and Matty would tell them the things he was going to teach the little man.

Then there were the times they were all together, one big happy family, a huge loving and supportive system that knew they would die for each other. Each time they’d laugh, each time they’d smile so wide their faces would hurt, each time they’d hug and talk and cry together, would make them realise how lucky they were to have each other.

Matty loved the moments before the shows, he'd spend hours watching her write in her notebook. He was in awe every time she sang and he knew he'd spend every day of his life proving his love for her.

Eventually the end of the tour rolled round and the last show was performed: a teary and emotional one, filled with one too many hugs and kisses. It was a show like no other and each of them was hesitant to leave the stage, knowing that would be the end : at least for now.

The party Jamie had thrown for them was huge, everyone and anyone they knew was invited, not that they spent much time with anyone else but each other. Matty and Lou disappeared to the toilets at one point when Charli and George had taken over the decks. Luckily no one could hear them over the loud music, but god did were they loud.

Adam and Carly's son was born three days later, the group crowding around the hospital room, taking turns in holding the little man. Carly asked to see Lou and Matty separately an hour or two after the birth. She simply placed the baby in Matty's arms, the baby boy wrapping his finger around Lou's pinky as her boyfriend held him, his barely opened eyes trained on her instead of the little man.

Carly felt emotional as she looked at them, smiling happily as her husband held her close to him. They had both come so far since the start and witnessing their journey was beautiful.

"I love you" Matty said, making her eyes snap away from the baby holding onto her finger. Something about the way he said it was different from all the other times, she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was exactly, but she felt it in every fibre of her being. She knew if the whole world changed tomorrow, she'd be certain Matty would be there, unchanged and forever loving her fiercely.

"I love you too" she says, tears filling her eyes. The rest of the group come back into the room now, suspiciously standing in a semicircle around them.

"I want this" he says, looking down at the child in his hands "I want all of this with you" he says, his own eyes filling with tears now. Adam moves to take his son, knowing what was coming, having spoken to Matty with his wife about this exact moment.

Lou gasps as Matty drops to one knee, his hand dipping into his pocket before pulling out a velvet box.

"I know we haven't had the easiest ride... I know I was an absolute Arsehole for most of it... And I can't promise I won't be that.. at least sometimes" he says making her chuckle through her teary eyes and choked throat.

"But I can promise that I have loved you, more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, for as long as I have known you and I can promise I will continue to do that until the day I die" he says, his voice breaking slightly, tears flooding his cheeks. Her knees buckle, taking her to him, holding his face in his cheeks.

"I have had this ring... Since Rome. I just knew, I knew even before you were mine that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you... I know this has happened quickly and it's been intense... But it's also been fucking incredible... The best thing that has ever happened to me and I know... I know in my soul that you are my person" he says, making tears fall even quicker from her face.

"You make me a better man. Lou...My love... I love you so much... Will you marry me?" He asks as he opens the velvet box in his hands, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

"Yes Matty. Of course I will" she says, pressing her mouth to his before pulling back, allowing him to place the ring on her finger before their lips find each other again.

"I love you so much" she says against his mouth. The couple stand then and are swarmed with hugs from their friends.

George pulls her into a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and she notices he's been crying too.

"I'm so fucking happy for you... Marrying my best friend... The best man I know" George says as he pulls back from her, Lou nods at him.

"I'm so glad you were here for this g" she says, pulling him back into her embrace. George is then moving to Matty, the two guys crying into each other as Ross comes to hug Lou.

"You got the happy ending you deserve" Ross says, making her smile. The group comes together then, joining in a big group hug.

"sorry we took your moment away from you guys" Lou says, her words directed at Carly and Adam.

"It's alright... Matty asked us and we couldn't say no, it's you" Carly says, making her smile widely.

"Besides, Matty never lets me have my moment" Adam says jokingly, making everyone laugh.

She looks around her empty flat, one box left, her entire life up to this point tucked away in boxes, currently being loaded into a van by her best friends. She hears distant laughter, George’s cackle, Ross’ chesty machine gun laugh, Hann’s gentle chuckle and Matty’s childish giggle. Her eyes water as she looks around the space, feeling someone rest their chin on her shoulder as their arms wrap around her frame.

“You okay?” she hears Charli ask and she lets out a brief “mhmm”.

“A lot to take in, I know” Charli says, pulling away from her friend and allowing her to turn. Matty listens in from the doorway, leaning against the wall. “Having second thoughts?” Charli asks, trying to sense her friend's mood. Lou shakes her head and smiles.

“About Matty? Never” that makes him smile widely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

“It’s hard moving out of your home” Charli says and Lou turns to look around the room again. She shakes her head and smiles widely.

“This isn’t my home… not really” Charli is confused but then Lou is turning to her again and hugging her tightly. She pulls away after a beat.

“Matty is my home… you guys are my home. As long as I’ve got you and him… I'm good” Matty wants to rush in and hug her tightly and kiss her like it was the last chance he’d get but he doesn’t want to disturb her, or admit he was eavesdropping.

Charli nods, she gets it. She places a kiss to her cheek “I’ll leave you to it” she then leaves, passing Matty on the way out.

“You’re so lucky Matty… to have someone love you like she does” Charli says, wiping a tear from her cheek and pressing a kiss to Matty’s cheek.

“I know… believe me i know” he walks into her apartment, finding her and wrapping his arms around her.

“Ready to go?” he asks, looking down at her. His heart falters when she smiles up at him, leaning on her tiptoes to press a haste kiss to his lips.

“Ready to spend the rest of my life with you?” she asks, watching the way a huge smile breaks out across his lips “never been more ready”.

George stands at the centre table, to the right of Matty, he's holding a champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other, his eyes hold tears in the corners and he has a lump in his throat as he begins to speak.

"I have always known that Lou is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. She is an incredible friend, someone who will love you in the exact way you need, someone who will love you so hard that your broken parts start to heal. She is my best friend and for years I waited until she met someone who loved her the way she deserved..." George says, his voice cracking several times as she spoke, Lou stared at him, Matty squeezing her hand as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Never did I expect it to be Matty" George says, making everyone, including the married couple, laugh.

"Matty is also my best friend, my partner, my bandmate and my brother... I truly believe it when I say that he's the best guy I know" he says, making Matty cry a little.

"But he wasn't always that way with Lou... I won't go into that too much because the past is the past... Although I will still end you if you so much as hurt her" he says jokingly making everyone laugh again.

"Matty loves Lou exactly the way she deserves and Lou makes Matty better. They are perfect for each other and I am so unbelievably happy and proud to witness their love... Because it's fucking beautiful. Congratulations to my best friends... I would make a joke about the sex going down hill from here but... I've heard you in hotels and on the tour buses so I very much doubt that's going to happen" he says, everyone laughs as Lou blushes, hiding her face in her hands. Matty pries them away with a kiss to her cheek, making everyone awe.

Everyone cheers and then Matty and Lou hug George tightly.

"I love you" they both say to him.

Mia then stands to do her speech, looking around the room before she speaks "I'm really shit at these things so... Sorry in advance" everyone laughs again.

"Lou is the best sister I could ever ask for and I'm probably biased when I say this but she is far too good for this world and the people in it... Sorry Matty" he just nods along, agreeing.

"But from the moment I met you Matty, I knew you were her person. I had never seen her the way she is with you, you make her so happy and I will always thank you for that. I wish you both the absolute best, Lou, I love you and I am so proud to call you my sister... And we are so happy" she says, gesturing to their family "to be welcoming Matty in to our family, he is the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you him cheers" everyone cheers then and Matty and Lou share a sweet kiss.

Matty then stands, still holding onto Lou's hand. He shakes his head as he looks down at her, bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. He then looks at everyone else, raising his glass up to them.

"God... I just want to start by saying thank you" he says, gesturing to those who have made speeches.

"And thank you to all of you for coming... For sharing this beautiful day with us" he sighs then "okay this is the part where I get really fucking emotional and make a fool of myself and make my wife question the fact she's just married me" he says making everyone laugh. Lou whispers a never to him and he smiles.

"Fuck... 'My wife' that's mental. She's my wife" he points at her, she smiles widely at him. She watches as his eyes water and the way he briefly tucks his lips into his mouth, fighting back the tears.

"You look so beautiful. You always look so fucking beautiful but my god" he says, everyone smiling as she fawns over her.

"I am truly the luckiest man alive... I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet before I start weeping. Lou you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I know I will thank whatever force allowed you to be mine, I will count my lucky stars everyday because you are mine. I don't know what the future holds... But I know as long as I have you, I'll be okay" he says making her smile, he leans down to kiss her gently before he continues.

"I love you so much" he says.

"I love you too"

It's then her time to stand.

"I'm not even going to try one up you on that" she says.

"I have written so many speeches, thrown them away and then rewritten them... I wrote about how we once hated each other but that story didn't quite do us justice... Because we are so much more than that... I then wrote all the things I love about you, but it was too long and I knew I'd get too emotional... And then I started wracking my brain on what I could say" she says looking down at him.

"I knew I wanted to tell you how much I love you but I could’t find the words to truly encapsulate what that's like. And I thought... Why say something... When you can sing it? Now I know you have begged me every single day since we got engaged to sing at this wedding and everyday I said no... And that's because I had something else planned" she says, looking around at the band and smiling at them.

"I guess you could say this is our last show… without you of course" she says and they all stand up, making Matty gasp as they make their way to the dancefloor that has been set up, microphones set up (ready for what Matty presumed would be the band they've hired). Ross stands go the left of her, Hann to the right, George behind her, Polly at the back next to George on the right and Jamie and John to the left.

"You and this band, are the best thing that has ever happened to me, you’re my family and my home and I love you all so much.. but this is for you. I love you so much Matty" she then sings a cover of All I Need To Hear with the band playing their instruments. It brings tears to his eyes and he shakes his head as she smiles at him.

"Just tell me you love me, that's all that I need to hear" she sings and he mouths an I love you to her.

They finish up the song and Lou begins speaking again.

"Okay... That was just a warm up" she says, making everyone laugh. The boys hug her and she thanks them before they leave. Jamie hands her an acoustic guitar, his guitar, one in which he had gifted to her at the end of the tour and Matty thinks he's going to sob, seeing her dressed in her beautiful white wedding dress, holding his guitar in her arms.

"I... I wrote this song, for you" she says, "I didn't release it because it's yours... only yours" She says and he knows what she's about to sing.

"When I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to reassemble it. And my mumma swore, that she would, never let herself forget, and that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist, but darling, you, are, the only exception' she sings.

She finishes the song, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she passes the guitar back to Jamie. Matty joins her then, gripping her tightly in his arms as he presses his lips to hers “I love you so much, my wife” he says against her mouth, the couple laugh as everyone around them cheer. Both of them throw up their middle fingers to the boys when they begin to make inappropriate comments. They all laugh and cry as they watch them.

They sit at the steps outside their venue. Their friends and family are dancing inside, drinking and laughing, celebrating their love.

Matty’s hand is resting on her thigh, over the fabric of her white dress. Her hand is playing with a few stray curls that had fallen in front of his face, whilst her other hand rests under her chin. Her hand only moves from his hair when he passes her his cigarette, watching her as she takes a few puffs before handing it back to him.

“You're so beautiful” he murmurs “my wife” a huge smile breaks out over her features, eyes crinkling and teeth baring. Her eyes flick from his eyes which have been brimming with happy tears the entire night, down to his lips which are spread wide too.

“I love you, my husband” they hear the door creak behind them, revealing their group of closest friends.

“Sorry we're not interrupting are we” Carly says kindly.

“You'd be able to hear them a mile off if we were interrupting’ comes from George, making everyone laugh. His arm is wrapped around Charli who looks up at him fondly as he speaks. They'll be next, she thinks.

“You know you guys are always welcome” Lou says, making the group walk down the steps to join them.

“But maybe call before you spontaneously pop round to ours” Matty says, wiggling his eyebrows at the group, receiving a quick light smack from Lou, which makes everyone laugh.

They fill out the steps pretty quickly. Charli and George perch on a ledge near them, Mia and Ross sit a few steps down, turning around to look at them, Lou smiles widely at their intertwined hands.

Carly and Hann are nuzzled together a step down to the right of them.

“Where's the little man?” Matty asks, making Hann look up.

“Your mum's looking after him” makes him smile.

John, Jamie, Gabi and Polly are scattered here and there. They sit in silence for a few moments, sharing a few cigarettes, all with huge smiles on their faces. They watch as the sky continues to get darker and as stars begin to appear.

Matty pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek before mumbling in her ear.

“I love you” she turns to kiss him, only pulling away when she hears Ross speak.

“What now?” He asks and everyone chuckles.

“What do you mean , what now?” George says, laughing loudly.

“I mean what happens now… Hann and Carly are married and have just had a kid… Lou and Matty are now married and will probably be popping out babies in no time” his words make Lou blush and Matty smear his lips to her cheek.

“You bet” he murmurs into her ear before he delivers his next line to the group “we'll be practising for a bit mate don't you worry about that” it causes another chorus of laughs to break out.

“You guys will probably be married next” Ross says pointing to Charli and George.

“And then we'll all be busy and be less inclined to see each other… what happens then?”

“Don't be daft mate… the bands not broken up. We're just having a little break. You know Matty can't go that long without making music anyway and who's he going to get to help him if it's not us?” George says, Ross shrugs at that, nodding his head slowly in agreement once he realises George is right.

“Besides… we're a family” Polly says, everyone looks around at each other then, smiling at one another.

“We're a family” Matty confirms, eyes trained on his wife who's looking back at him just as intently.

The group slowly begins to filter out, leaving the newlyweds alone on the steps.

“What now?” Lou repeats Ross’ words from earlier, feeling the sentiment behind them. Everything up to this point seemed so perfectly planned as if it was scripted. Their own little novel, a story of two people who hated each other, discovering that they in fact didn't hate each other at all. A story of two people, finally loving and being loved by the one person who they were supposed to be loved by.

Now everything was out in the open, Lou didn't know what would happen next and the thought was both exciting and terrifying.

“We go on our honeymoon, have a ton of sex” Lou laughs and nudges Matty's shoulder with her own “we eat amazing food and drink loads of alcohol and we love each other every day we're there” she smiles, Matty places a hand against her cheek and she leans into it.

“And we come home, and maybe the band will write some songs and eventually do another tour and maybe you'll do the same with your band, but we'll stick together through all of it, through thick and thin… we'll love”

“And then what?” She asks, he chuckles and places his lips against hers, they laugh as they kiss.

“And then we have the rest of our lives, we don't need to plan it, as long as we've got each other” she nods at that.

“Yeah, as long as we've got each other…”

“Here's to the rest of our lives baby” he says, smearing his lips against hers. He pulls back slightly and she watches as a smirk comes to rest against his lips.

“Now how about we get you home, so I can get you out of this dress?” She giggles at his words as she pulls him in for another kiss.

“Lead the way Mr Healy” Matty stands, reaching down to her. Lou intertwines their hands and allows him to pull her up to him. She collides with him, her lips merging with his again.

“Come home with me, Mrs Healy” he murmurs against her mouth, twisting his tongue against hers, making her sigh.

“I love you” she pulls back slightly, one hand sweeping the curls that had fallen loose from his hair back.

“Your insufferable arsehole” he says, smiling down at her.

“My insufferable arsehole”

“Always”

“For the rest of our lives”

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[ibijau]

Papa Mia pt5 / On aO3

As sect leader Ouyang had said, Nie Fuyun was in the company of those four brats, hanging out in a quiet part of the Unclean Realm, when Nie Huaisang found her. The boys all looked worried the instant they saw him, guessing (rightfully) that they probably shouldn’t have been alone with a girl, and especially not when the last time they’d done that, said girl had ended up forcibly engaged to one of them. As for Nie Fuyun, she didn’t seem particularly anxious. She must have thought her situation was already as bad as it could get, and seen no reason to worry for being caught doing mischief, bless the poor girl.

After briefly greeting Nie Huaisang, the four boys promptly made their escape. Nie Huaisang barely paid attention to them, focused only on Nie Fuyun.

“Fuyun, I have made a decision,” he told her as soon as they were alone. “An important one. I should have done this from the start.”

She looked at him, startled but hopeful, but said nothing.

“This comedy has gone on long enough,” Nie Huaisang said. “The elders can say what they like, I’m not letting you enter Ouyang zongzhu’s family. The idiot doesn’t deserve you, and neither does his son. I’ll deal with the backlash, but I’m going to stop this.”

For some reason, instead of jumping with joy and thanking him, Nie Fuyun looked stiff and so upset as to seem angry. But only because she was a clever girl, Nie Huaisang reasoned. She knew what it would cost him and their sect to do something so outrageous, so close to the wedding. Yet after just a short conversation with sect leader Ouyang, Nie Huaisang had known he couldn’t do that to her. It would have been too cruel, condemning that bright and energetic girl to live with the Ouyang sect. 

“But I don’t want to stop the wedding,” Nie Fuyun protested, quite predictably. 

“You don’t need to act coy about it,” Nie Huaisang assured her. “I know how unwilling you were to begin with, and I should have protected you better. You are this sect’s best disciple, a great pride to all of us, and you deserve the best. I’m going to…”

“Zongzhu, I mean it, I don’t want you to prevent the wedding!” Nie Fuyun insisted. “I… I think Zizhen is pretty sweet. It would have been nice to get to know him more, but from what I’ve already seen… I think he’s someone I wouldn’t mind marrying.”

Nie Huaisang blinked a few times, shocked to hear that. She’d always been unenthusiastic about this, what had that boy said to her in half a shichen to suddenly make her willing to waste her life among inferior people? But of course, she was still young. At her age, Nie Huaisang too had been easily convinced by sweet words, only to regret it. It had cost him only his heart, a useless thing anyway, considering the cruelty of the world. It would cost Nie Fuyun so much more if he didn’t put an end to this nonsense.

“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Nie Huaisang said. “A boy like that doesn’t deserve you, and his sect would stifle you. Wouldn’t you rather stay home with us? I don’t think the Ouyang clan would let you go on Night Hunts as you please, no matter how you dress. And they’re not as rich as us, either, and…”

“I know those things, zongzhun” Nie Fuyun cut him, rolling her eyes. “I still… I still want this. I know I didn’t before, but I’m fine with it now. He really is sweet, you know.”

For a second, Nie Huaisang didn't know what to say. Although she could be headstrong and liked to do things her own way, ultimately Nie Fuyun was a good and dutiful child who rarely clashed with elders in general, and with him least of all. It was very odd for her to be stubborn about something like that, and Nie Huaisang hadn't counted on any resistance against his plan.

“You’re unreasonable, Fuyun.”

Instead of folding, the brat rolled her eyes at him again.

“So are you, zongzhu. If I say I’m fine with it, shouldn’t you believe me?”

“And since I’m your sect leader, shouldn’t you listen to me?” Nie Huaisang countered. “When I say something, aren’t you supposed to obey?”

“If you were my father, you could decide to prevent this marriage,” Nie Fuyun snapped. “But you’ve chosen not to be, so you don’t get to decide that for me.”

Nie Huaisang could only stare at her. She couldn’t mean… he’d never told anyone, he’d always stayed at a distance so he could protect her, she couldn’t know… She had no way to know, unless…

Unless…

Didn’t he use to keep a diary back then? He’d hidden it somewhere after his brother’s death, fearing it contained information that could be used against him. Where had he put it, though? He’d hidden so many things immediately after realising what Jin Guangyao had done, in prey to agonising paranoia. He’d even almost sent Nie Fuyun herself away, and only stopped because he’d realised it was a more suspicious move than keeping her close.

Where had he put that diary? Surely not…

“With my mother’s veil,” Nie Huaisang whispered in horror, pressing one hand to his mouth. “You found…”

Nie Fuyun glared at him. “Honestly, I was wondering if you wanted me to find it! I guess doing it that way was easier than directly telling me the truth…”

“No, you were never supposed to know!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, only to regret it.

The raw pain in his daughter’s eyes, the way she paled as soon as he said that…

“Are you so ashamed of me?” she asked in a weak voice. “I’ve… Aside from what happened with Zizhen, what have I done wrong? I’ve always been a good student, I’ve always been polite to elders, and I helped the younger disciples, I’ve never shied away from my chores, and… and still…”

Nie Huaisang took a step closer, desperate to hold her in his arms, but half a lifetime of restraint couldn’t be easily dismissed, and he stayed where he was, unable to cross the distance between them.

“Fuyun, in the entire world there is not a father who is more proud of his daughter than I am of you,” he assured her. “Haven’t I told you many times that you were the pride of our entire sect?”

“And yet you didn’t tell me the truth!” she snapped. “Not about yourself, not about my fathers…”

She pressed a hand to her mouth and blushed, shooting him a worried look. At first Nie Huaisang didn’t understand that reaction. He was about to comfort her when her words truly hit him. If she had read his diary, then she knew about his past with Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian. And possibly Jiang Cheng, too.

And now they were all there, at her wedding.

A wedding that should never have caught their notice, and to which Nie Huaisang hadn’t invited (most of) them.

But someone else might have.

“You brought them here?” he gasped. “You brought those people here, inside my home? You… Don’t you realise what a stupid thing that was? What if they’d realised who you really are? Heavens help me, Wei Wuxian was so damn weird earlier, he’s probably guessed half of the situation already!”

“Well… none of this would have happened if you’d just told me the truth!” Nie Fuyun exploded. “It’s your fault for keeping secrets!”

“If I had told you, you’d only have done the same thing, but sooner!” Nie Huaisang retorted.

“We’ll never know what I would have done, because you don’t like me enough to trust me!”

Nie Huaisang stumbled. This… hadn’t this been his exact reaction to discovering the secrets his family had kept from him about their sabres? He was fairly sure he’d sobbed something like that, back then. Only he’d been crying in Jin Guangyao’s arms, because his brother had died without ever trusting him with the truth.

It had hurt Nie Huaisang, back then. And yet he’d been willing to do the same to his daughter. As a youth, he’d never understood why his brother hadn’t simply spoken to him. He’d thought himself untrustworthy. But in truth, just like him… perhaps Nie Mingjue had never found the right moment, unwilling to hurt and scare him. And yet, the situations were completely different. Nie Huaisang could have died due to not knowing the secret of their cultivation method. Nie Fuyun had been kept safe thanks to her ignorance of the truth. It wasn’t the same.

He wasn’t wrong, like Nie Mingjue had been.

“Fuyun, it isn’t for lack of trust or lack of affection that I kept secrets from you,” Nie Huaisang said, taking out a fan to give himself countenance, but reluctant to open it yet. “But you have to understand, the situation at the time… If I had gotten pregnant before the war, I might not have been so afraid of telling my brother, and he may have helped me raise you. But since it happened at the time that it did… He wasn’t yet quite as bad as he would be at the end, but I was already very scared to do anything to upset him. The political situation was so tense, and he was always angry at me for one thing or another. He would have wanted to know how you came to exist, and… I was scared of hiding the truth, and even more scared to say it. By the time you were born, Wei Wuxian had left the Jiang sect, after all. And the Lans… I couldn’t let Da-ge cut ties with our closest allies, as he might have done over something like that.”

Nie Fuyun only glared at him. She was just a toddler when Wei Wuxian died, so she couldn’t remember that time. And without ever saying so, once Nie Mingjue’s temper took a bad turn, everyone in the sect sort of… made sure he never had to be around the youngest juniors any more than he strictly needed to, so she probably didn’t remember him too much either. It had to be difficult to imagine the constant terror Nie Huaisang had lived in, especially once his brother started taking things out on him, bullying him for his low cultivation, destroying the trinkets he treasured so much, preventing him from seeing Jin Guangyao, his only friend at that time…

“Even if this is all true, it was long ago,” Nie Fuyun said. “You could have told me in the many years since!”

“I was scared of Jing Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang protested. “Surely you’re smart enough to understand that! I really wanted… there was a period,” he added, more softly. “While I was still officially in mourning… I thought I would finally acknowledge you as my daughter. With Da-ge gone, I had nothing to fear. But then I realised what Jin Guangyao had done. And I also realised what I would have to do. And… I couldn’t involve you in that. You know what he’s done, surely you can understand that? A man who slaughtered an entire sect, and not just once. If he knew I was his enemy, if he knew how important you were to me…”

Just thinking about it made Nie Huaisang sick.

“People say he killed his own son,” Nie Fuyun said, a little less defiant now.

She had met Jin Rusong, and might even remember him. Once or twice, Jin Guangyao had brought the little boy with him to Qinghe, and the Nie disciples had played with him while grown-ups dealt with their own affairs. Nie Huaisang had never known what to think of those moments. In a kinder world, it would have warmed his heart to see his daughter play with Jin Guangyao’s son. They had been friends, that murderer and him. Once, he had to have wished their children could be friends as well. It was a natural thing to want. Nie Huaisang couldn’t remember if he had wanted it. He could hardly remember ever feeling anything but hatred for Jin Guangyao.

“I can’t say if he did it or not,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I did not look into it. I saw him use Rusong’s death to his advantage, and that told me enough about his character. I know he killed other children, or allowed them to be killed anyway, for his father’s ambition, for his own. I could not let it happen to you as well. I had to be careful. If he had hurt you… but even from a distance, I looked after you. I always did.”

Nie Fuyun nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I… I know that. I never thought much of it before I knew the truth. But once I knew, it made sense. I’ve always known if I had problems I should tell you first, even if others called you useless. I knew if I told you about something, you’d fix it. You always did.”

“I wish I could have had you at my side,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “There hasn’t been a day I didn’t wish for it.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Nie Fuyun asked, getting angry again. “So you didn’t before! So you were scared of your brother, and of Jin Guangyao! Who are you afraid of now? What new excuse have you found to keep me away these last two years?”

“Do you think I no longer have enemies?” Nie Huaisang snapped at her. “Come on, you're smarter than that! Do you think Jin Guangyo had no supporters? Do you think those who lost face when his crimes were revealed aren’t furious at me?”

“I think you’re a coward,” his daughter spat at him, her disdain causing his heart to falter. “I think it’s easy and comfortable, lying to me, lying to everyone! I think you don’t care what it feels like for me, being nobody’s child! You keep saying you’ll find a way to stop that wedding, but wasn’t there an easy way to do it? Do you think if people knew I were your daughter, the elders would dare to send me away? Do you think even Ouyang zongzhu has the audacity to take another sect’s heir as a bride for his son? You only had to say ‘she is my daughter’, and none of this would have happened! But you love secrets more than you love me, more than you love anything!”

She'd come closer to shout at him, towering over him the way Nie Mingjue used to do. Without thinking, Nie Huaisang took a step back, an old forgotten fear creeping up his spine. 

Nie Fuyun looked too much like her uncle sometimes, and in anger she was more similar to him than ever. 

“Can you really accuse me of this?” Nie Huaisang replied, matching her tone just as he used to do with his brother. “Did you tell Wei Wuxian why he’s here? Did you tell Lan Wangji, or Lan Xichen?”

Caught like that Nie Fuyun blushed. And yet she still didn’t back down, as stubborn as her father.

“It shouldn’t have fallen to me to tell them!”

“And if I did, do you think they’d believe me?” Nie Huaisang asked, tears pricking his eyes. “Do you think they would have cared back then, when none of them liked me enough to call me a friend? Do you think they’d listen to me now, when they all think I’m always scheming something no matter how earnest I am?”

“I don’t know, and neither do you, because you’re too cowardly to try!”

“I don’t need to try to know what would have happened!” Nie Huaisang insisted, waving his closed fan at her. “And you… you can’t fault me when you didn’t even try to ask me about this! You didn’t talk to me, you just went behind my back and involved these people into our private affairs…”

“One of these people is my father!” Nie Fuyun shouted, wiping away tears. “Our affairs are his too! And even if I talked to you, when have you ever answered my questions? How many times before have I asked you where you found me? You never told me that much, why would I trust you to tell me anything else?”

After some hesitation, Nie Huaisang shook his head. It was possible she’d asked, but he couldn’t recall. He’d had other preoccupations, at the time. And even if she’d really shown some curiosity…

“Was I supposed to lie then?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “I’ve explained to you why I couldn’t tell you the truth, would you have preferred a lie?”

“Yes!” Nie Fuyung exploded, tears spilling from her eyes yet only making her seem more furious, as it used to be with Nie Mingjue. “I wanted to be worth lying to at least! But you’re so caught up in your stupid ideas of what’s wrong and what’s right… you never try to imagine how other people feel! Maybe that’s why none of my fathers were your friends, because you’re too selfish to care about other people!”

“You’re angry and irrational,” Nie Huaisang retorted, fighting again the impulse to either take her in his arms to console her, or run away from her as he used to do from his brother. “I refuse to talk to you while you’re like this.”

“Is that also what you told your brother?” Nie Fuyun snapped. “Was he really going insane, or were you just so horrible to be around that he got angry for good reasons, and you couldn’t accept it was your fault if he snapped?”

Nie Huaisang stopped breathing. 

It wasn't… 

It hadn't been like that. 

Even Jin Guangyao, who would have had so much to gain by blaming someone else for what he did to Nie Mingjue, expended immense energy convincing Nie Huaisang that it hadn't been his fault. For months after his brother's death, Nie Huaisang had felt guilty, to the point it nearly drove him mad. Even after figuring out the truth… That cursed song had made things worse, but it hadn’t started Nie Mingjue’s downward spiral. It hadn’t worn him out the way countless arguments had. Jin Guangyao had done the worst of it, but Nie Huaisang had never felt blameless either.

But his sect had needed him. He couldn't have let Jin Guangyao win. He couldn't have let Nie Mingjue remain unavenged. He couldn't have allowed Lan Xichen to remain in the grasp of a manipulator. Above all else, he couldn't have left Nie Fuyun alone, the only relative he had left, the only good thing he had ever done.

And now even she thought he was a murderer.

“I shouldn't have said that,” Nie Fuyun said, trying to wipe her face clean. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean…”

She took a step toward him, extending her arms toward her father. In turn, Nie Huaisang took a step back.

“You meant it enough to say it,” Nie Huaisang hissed. “But I don't care. If others’ opinion of me mattered, my life would be different. Fine, then. Go and marry that stupid boy, become an obedient daughter-in-law to his idiotic father. Considering your origins, I should have known better than to think you'd amount to anything in life.”

“You… I hate you!” Nie Fuyun shouted, new tears running down her face. “You know what? I'm glad to be leaving this sect! I'm glad I'll never have to see you again! I wish you'd never brought me to Qinghe at all, so I'd never have to put up with you!”

She stormed away before Nie Huaisang could stop her. Not that he would have tried, when he half agreed with her. It might have been kinder to let her grow away from him, away from the mess that was their sect. And yet if he hadn’t had her as a reason to keep fighting…

“Nie-xiong, shouldn’t you know better than to upset a bride-to-be?”

Nie Huaisang startled, and turned to glare at Wei Wuxian, who had just arrived with Jiang Cheng and the Lan jades in tow. Of course they’d had to come there at the worst possible time… but at least, they hadn’t brought sect leader Ouyang with them. If that blasted man had seen this, Nie Huaisang might just have jumped off a cliff to flee his own shame.

“Well, this is awkward,” Nie Huaisang said, trying his best to smile even if his face couldn't quite remember how to do it. “How much of that did you hear?” 

“Just that you think she is worthless and she thinks her life would be better without you,” Wei Wuxian replied in a light town, but just like Nie Huaisang he couldn't quite smile. “Not your best moment of diplomacy, there.” 

“Since when am I ever diplomatic anyway?” Nie Huaisang asked, opening his fan to hide. “But this is all because of you people, anyway! If you hadn't come here today…” 

He looked back longingly in the direction Nie Fuyun disappeared. Nie Huaisang wanted to run after her and apologise, but his body felt too heavy to move. Just like when his brother had fits of anger, causing them to fight. He'd already been a coward back then, and he had only gotten worse with time. 

“I'll go talk to her,” Lan Xichen announced, already walking away. 

“You?” Nie Huaisang scoffed. “What good will you be?” 

Lan Xichen stopped and looked at him with sorrow, as if Nie Huaisang's lack of trust wounded him. Perhaps it did. Nie Huaisang refused to care. He could not allow himself to care. 

“I've helped you reconcile with your brother more times than I can count,” Lan Xichen reminded him. “Perhaps I can also reconcile you with your… disciple.”

For a second, gratitude flooded Nie Huaisang’s body. Lan Xichen had done the impossible so many times for Nie Mingjue and him, perhaps this time too… but almost immediately, that gratitude turned into resentment. As always, Lan Xichen was doing too little, too late.

“I can’t stop you from talking to her,” Nie Huaisang scoffed. “But don’t expect too much of a conversation. I think that girl is as unforgiving as I am.”

“All the more reason for me to try,” Lan Xichen replied before walking away.

Nie Huaisang clenched his fists and glared at him. That man! That stupid, handsome, kind, idiotic man, who always had to think he could fix any situation…

But if Lan Xichen could get Nie Fuyun to give him a second chance after this, Nie Huaisang really might have to start forgiving him.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

A Clean Slate

Chapter Twelve of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: After Bradley leaves you at the field, you feel adrift. Everything hurts, and in more ways than you'd ever thought possible. It seems like your life encounters disaster after disaster the more time you spend in Pigeon Creek. Is it any wonder that you jump for the chance at recovering the life you've got when Bradley shows up at your house again?

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: Carole being, Carole. She's a warning in and of herself!

Word Count: 4028

A/N: Here we see the aftermath of Bradley's time in Pigeon Creek. Linley's really not feeling great about Bradley anymore. This chapter is where we start to see it. I'm sorry this chapter is late!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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Your heart feels like it’s shattered into a billion pieces as you find your dad and let him take you home. There’s no way you’re going back to New York today. You feel like you should stay away from the city and lick your wounds in peace a while longer. Carole will be all up in your face, and so will the press, you’re sure, the moment you set foot in your apartment. There’s so much you’ll have to do now. Apologize to Bradley and Carole, return the ring to him, and possibly draft a statement for the press. It makes your stomach roil and your head ache thinking about it.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m making a batch of that plum jam you love so much. Do you want a jar to take back home with you?” 

You don’t respond. You’re draped over the sofa with a wet rag over your face. A part of you is hoping it will fix all of your problems like it’s fixing your migraine. But they don’t go away. Right now, you have two problems you need to solve. The problem between your dad and Bradley, and the problems between you and Bradley.

“Yeah, I’ll take a jar.” You sit upright with a sigh, letting the rag fall into your arms. 

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened between you and the Bradshaws?” You start pacing back and forth in your living room, one, two, three, four steps, about turn, repeat.

“It’s not an easy story to hear. It’s not an easy story to tell. Before I say a word, I need you to know. I wanted to protect you from the man I was when I was in the Navy. I regret so many of my actions during that time. The only thing I don’t is having you.” He sounds exhausted, but you have to know.

You sob a little. “Please, daddy. I have to know. I love Bradley. I’m marrying him. I want him to be my family. I want him to be your family, too.”

For several moments, it is quiet between the two of you, only the sharp snick of your dad’s knife cutting through ripe plums punctuating the silence.

“This all happened in 1986, only a few months before I met your mom. Goose was my best friend in the whole world. I met him on my first rotation aboard ship when I joined the Navy. I’ve told you about my dad, right, kiddo? About how he was considered MIA in Vietnam?” You nod, because you are more than aware. “They used to haze me, beat me up, blame me for every problem. I learned pretty quickly after joining the Navy to never trust another soul. There’d be nobody who could look out for me like I could look out f0r myself. I went through RIO after RIO. Nobody wanted to work with a traitor’s kid. Until I met Goose. Goose protected me from those in my squadron who considered Duke Mitchell’s kid to be as traitorous as his father.”

Your dad sniffles and it’s all you can do to keep from sobbing in concert.

“He was my best friend, my family. We spent every leave together, took liberty together, caused mischief together. When he met Carole, I thought everything would change. But I hadn’t lost my brother. I’d gained a sister instead. I was the best man at their wedding. I wanted to scream from the rooftops when they told me they were expecting. I would have done anything for Goose and Carole. When they put Bradley in my arms at the hospital and told me I was his godfather, I would have done anything for him too.”

“When Bradley was two years old, Goose and I were called to Top Gun.” He hums gently, pulling another plum from the colossal stack and cutting into it. He doesn’t waste a single drop of the sweet juice.

“We were cocky. We thought we were the best of the best. But so did everyone else there. It was hard. We fought for our place in the rankings every day. Family day came and went, bringing Carole and Bradley to North Island.” He has a sad smile on his face as he methodically cuts up plum after plum. “Goose was so happy to see them. We took them out on the town, showed them around North Island. We did everything to make their visit the happiest. Then Hop 31 happened. I flew through your Uncle Ice’s jetwash, we went into a flat spin, and the engines failed. We had to eject. The canopy didn’t eject fully and since Goose pulled his ejector first, he hit the canopy. It severely compacted his spine.”

“The Navy had to discharge him honorably on medical grounds. There was an investigation afterward, one in which I was cleared. But after nearly losing Goose, I never wanted to fly again. So I left the Navy. I went to New York a few times after the accident to see Goose and Carole and Bradley. But it wasn’t the same. Goose and I were the same, but Carole? Carole looked at me with hatred in her eyes. By hurting Goose, I destroyed all of the hopes she had in expanding her family. She always wanted to give Bradley little brothers and sisters. My third or fourth time in New York, she told me never to come back again. She said it was hurting Goose too much to see me walking around when he’d never be able to again. So I never went back to New York. I never saw my brother again.”

You wrap your arms around your dad, relishing in the scent of his cologne, motor oil and fragrant plum juice.

“Thank you for telling me, Dad.” He grins, a crooked upturning of his lips.

That answers the question of the problems between your Dad and Bradley. You believe your dad. You also believe Bradley. His leaving New York and never coming back hurt them both - it probably hurt Goose too. You’re sure you can get the men to talk to each other in the coming months and years. But you know your romantic problems are not so easy to resolve. You did lie to your fiancé for months, hiding the most integral parts of yourself from him. Now he’s angry, and honestly, so are you. If only you hadn’t come back to Pigeon Creek. You could have told Bradley the truth in New York and taken his help to get Jake to sign the papers after all. Visions of Sheriff Garcia and officers from the Greeneville Police Department forcing Jake to sign the papers float through your imagination. But you didn’t tell Bradley earlier. Now you have to fix this problem and shove whatever it is you feel for Jake into the box where it’s been languishing for the past seven years.

“I know you’re thinkin’ that I spoiled things good this time, Dad.” Your voice is subdued, mind turning in circles at the thought of every relationship you’ve destroyed in your life - Jake, your dad, Penny, Amelia, and now Bradley.

“Oh, hon, don’t go accusin’ me of thinkin’.” His laugh rings out through the small kitchen. “I ain’t done anything of the sort.”

“Anyways, kiddo, spoiled’s in the eye of the beholder…” You stand at the counter so you can see the peace on his face as he carefully breaks down the plum in his hand. “Like these plums here. Some people might call them spoiled, but I think that these almost-ruined ones make the sweetest jam.”

It’s true. This jam is your favorite thing to have on toast, pancakes, or stirred into oatmeal. Hell, you’ve even made tea with a spoonful of the flavorful preserves and hot water.

“Do you need any help?” The grin that transforms your father’s face is enough to chase some of your thoughts away.

The quiet, methodical work settles something in your soul. You’ve always enjoyed working with your hands, and making jam seems to settle the frantic rush in your soul just as much as sewing does. You’re just bottling the jam up when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll go see who it is, kiddo. You keep bottling the jam.” You’re not expecting the silence when the door opens, though. Nor are you expecting the continuing silence as your unexpected visitor walks through the door.

“Hi.” Your shock must show on your face because Bradley’s quick to take your hands in his. You’re wearing an apron, and there’s a streak of sticky-sweet jam on your cheek, but he’s looking at you like he’s still in love with you. Should you be feeling hopeful now? Maybe not, but you are hopeful despite all indicators to the contrary.

“Hi. I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.”

“So did I.”

“So why are you here, Bradley?” You need to know why he’s here. As much as you may hope that he’s here to reconcile, to tell you he forgives you, a part of you isn’t sure you can believe it until you hear it.

“I wanted to know if I’m still your fiancé, Lin, well… that is … if you’ll still have me. I really don’t care what happened down here.” He’s so clearly not looking at your dad as he says the words.

“So... you have a past. I mean, who doesn't? What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.” You’re frozen. There’s a part of you that isn’t sure if he’s genuine or not, but when he opens his arms to you, you melt into his embrace anyway. 

“Honey, you’ve got jam on your cheek!” His smile is sweet as he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb and licks it off. “It’s as sweet as you are.”

“So, we’re heading up to New York City, huh?” Your dad’s careful question pops the bubble you’re in, the one fueled by mad hope and love.

“Well, Mav, my mom’s the mayor, and she has her heart set on a New York wedding.” At least his tone is outwardly polite.

“I guess I can take off work for your wedding, kiddo.” You smile at your dad, grinning at him. But something about the big New York wedding Bradley had mentioned doesn’t feel right to you anymore.

“Bradley?” At his hum, you continue. “ I, um... actually, I was thinking, maybe we could have the wedding here?”

“Here?”

“In my hometown.”

“Look, Lin, if it’s the cost you’re worrying about, don’t.” It’s a little weird that money is what he’s worrying about. You may live a bit more frugally than Bradley does, but you have money. If you have to pay for a part of a New York wedding, you’re sure you can swing it.

“It’s not the money, Bradley. It’s never about the money down here.” It’s really not. There are bonds amongst the people - the community - in Pigeon Creek that you’ve never felt in New York. You have people you love in New York, sure. But you have so many people you love in Pigeon Creek, too. It doesn’t feel right celebrating without Dorothy, Mickey, Penny, Amelia, and all your old friends anymore.

There’s a smirk on his face as he grins down at you. “You know,” His town is secretive, brimming with barely concealed joy. “A lot of people are expecting us to get married in the city. But, I think a nice, quiet country wedding is just the ticket.”

“Mav, if  you could cover the rehearsal dinner, I’d really like to take care of the rest?” Your heart soars at hearing the obvious olive branch Bradley’s giving your dad.

“I think I can cover that. After all, how many times does your only daughter get married?” Your fledgling smile falls at those words from your dad’s mouth. “Other than before, kiddo.” 

New York City - Mayor’s Office

“What do you mean she’s Mav’s daughter, Bradley?” Of all of the information Bradley’s given his mother since he landed back in New York with Linley an hour ago, that’s the piece of information that she’s fixating on. He’s trailing behind her as she marches through her office like she’s on a warpath. “And then there’s the fact that she has a history with the police in Pigeon Creek?”

“She was never convicted, Mom.”

“Oh-ho! I don’t know which is worse: that she’s a child cat killer, that her dad’s a part of the sons of the Confederacy or that her dad is Maverick Fucking Mitchell.”

Bradley can’t tell which is worse either. As of now the fact that she's a Mitchell is trumping everything else. “What would you suggest I do, Mom? Dump her for being poor? Or hell, because her dad is who he is? Didn’t somebody say something about the sins of the father not applying to their children?”

Bradley walks towards the small lounge area where his mom likes to take interviews from her office. She always maintains that this particular location showcases all of her best sides. “You’re supposed to be a Democrat, remember?” He sits down on the sofa as he asks her that question.

“There is nothing wrong with being poor.” His mom’s eyes flash as she stares him down. “I get elected by poor people. And I’m a big enough person to commend her for making something of herself.”

She sits down next to him, and it’s been so long since Bradley’s seen her as a mother that he forgot how comforting her perfume smells. “What upsets me is that she lied to you.”

To her credit, the great Carole Bradshaw does indeed look like she’s worried. Worried about Bradley, for Bradley. Though Bradley would bet that her true worry is over the nosedive her polling numbers are going to take once they find out that Bradley’s marrying a nobody turned semi-successful fashion designer instead of a Southern heiress turned semi-successful fashion designer. 

His tone is deliberately nonchalant as he looks at his mom. “So what? She was ashamed of her background. Who hasn’t been embarrassed by their parents at one point?”

Bradley’s poking the bear. He has been embarrassed by both of his parents. When he was younger his embarrassment was in how they were always all over each other. Their love was disgusting in that wholly teenage way. Now, Bradley’s constantly embarrassed by the fact that his mom is so controlling over his life; because she insists that she knows best even though he’s thirty years old.

“I’m going to assume that was a rhetorical question.” Bradley’s quite content to let her think so.

“Assume away.” The fact that she’s still glaring as she walks away means that he’s hit a sensitive spot. But it has him rising as well, because he’s not going to let her intimidate him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“No one is going to change my mind about this.” Bradley’s sure she’s going to try to dissuade him, again. “Not you, not the media, not anyone.”

“Fine, Brad. But admit it, I was right.” There’s victory in her gaze as she walks up to face him down.

“Yes, you were right. But she came clean. Now can we move on?” Please, can Carole Bradshaw’s one track mind be de-railed already?

“There is a wedding in your future, after all, whether you like it or not.” As if Bradley could forget - he’s just mentioning the wedding to get his mom off of the Linley and lying topic. It’s a decision he’s still not sure of. In truth he’d headed back to the Mitchell house in Pigeon Creek because he’d taken a look at his own polling numbers. People loved the fact that he was engaged. Then there’s Linley’s own chosen profession. It would be easy enough for her to stop fashion designing if his career demanded it. He could use a lovely leading lady on his arm after all for the endless rounds of fundraising galas and for swearing-in ceremonies.

“And how, exactly, does Little Miss Alabama plan to accommodate 500 people? I suppose she has connections at the jail?” 

Hah! Bradley would pay to see Mayor Carole Bradshaw living out of a jail cell for the wedding. “Well, there are several excellent choices.” There's definitely a grin on his face as he lists out the options, if only because his mom seems angrier the more low-brow they get. “There's also a Travelodge, a Days Inn, a Motel 6 …  oh, and the Golden Cherry Motel, where we will be.”

It’s obvious she’s less than amused. “Laugh now, but if this gets out, Bradley…”

“It won’t.” Bradley’s going to ensure it. As far as the press is concerned, Bradley Bradshaw is still marrying Linley Floyd of the Greeneville Floyds. It’s going to be a closed wedding, no press. The Bradshaws will be controlling the narrative every step of the way. “Anyways, mom, the press is expecting the Plaza in June. They’re not going to find out.”

New York City - Linley’s Apartment

It feels weird being back in New York City again. You’re the same person who left New York less than a week ago, but now you can feel it, how little you fit in. You’re lying on your bed flipping idly through one of the most recommended wedding magazines of the year. But it’s not keeping your attention - nothing about place settings or napkins or flower arrangements is. If you could kick your brain, you would. All you’re thinking about is Jake. Jake, Jake, Jake. The day you fell in love. The day your life changed. The day you left. But more than those days in the past, you’re eagerly thinking about the days you’ve experienced more recently with Jake - or well maybe you should say that you’re thinking about the one night you’ve spent with Jake recently. 

It’s surreal how one night with your ex, a man you haven’t seen in nearly a decade, was more of everything you've been yearning for than the past eight months with your fiancé. Now the wedding plans are underway. It doesn’t feel right, what Bradley and his mom are planning. They’re bringing the media into town, cherry-picking journalists and photographers to spin this wedding the way they want it to be spun. Isn’t this wedding supposed to be about you and Bradley? Apparently not. Instead you feel like this is all about Bradley and his polling numbers.

The worst part is how there isn’t a person you can talk to. If you talk to Nat, all she mentions is her excitement for the wedding and how lucky you are to have Bradley in your life. But the more you think about it, the more you’re sure you only want to talk to one person. You’ve been holding yourself back from calling him for seven years now. You definitely can’t call him now. But you feel like you know exactly what he’s doing.

It’s a Sunday night, so Jake’s probably home with his mom and Amelia watching the football game. You can picture the languid sprawl his limbs are arranged in on Penny’s worn plush sofa. He’s probably wearing a football jersey and worn jeans, feet bare with Bryant curled up against his hip. His green eyes are probably narrowed at the screen, every inch of his body tense as he tracks the oblong football across the screen. Everything else will have faded away for him. The only important thing in his sights is probably the football game. There had been a time where you’d been able to pull his attention away. When you were younger, he used to pull you into his arms as he lay there on the sofa, turning you until you were comfortably ensconced in his embrace as his hands traced absent minded patterns against your stomach. That had been how he’d felt the baby kick, in those weeks before happily ever after crashed down around your ears. But now, you’re simply alone, lying on your bed and flipping through magazines with words that barely make sense, in a city which never sleeps and where you feel like you have no friends.

Or well, maybe you have one? It’s Tash on the phone, “Hey Linley! I feel like I haven’t seen you at all since you got back from Alabama!”

“Hey Tash.” Your voice is subdued as you roll across your bed, mussing the pristine sheets and knocking your pillows out of place. “I’ve missed you, too. But since I got back, I’ve just been planning the wedding.”

“Now why does it sound like you said The Wedding in all-caps?” Her gasp is over dramatic and you can practically see the way her almond shaped eyes narrow as her brain goes into overdrive. People always forget that models have brains. Nat never wanted to be a model full time. She was originally studying Business Management, wanting to start her own fashion house. But starting fashion houses needs money and influence in addition to a good head for business. “Fuck, Lin. Is Carole Bradshaw being an absolute bitch about this wedding?” 

“She’s been more than a little annoying, yeah, Tash.” It makes your skin crawl just thinking about the meeting you’d had with Carole in her sprawling penthouse apartment the day after you came back to New York. You can still remember the hopelessness you’d felt at the sight of the fabric samples, cutlery, flower arrangements, invitations and more laid across the formal dining table. Carole had disregarded every decision you’d made and by the end of the neverending decisions about the wedding, your head was splitting. That was when she’d started talking about the venue. 

“This place is gorgeous and we can control the security.” You’re not sure when she had the time to do this because she had picture after picture of the Floyd Plantation house.

“The Floyd Plantation?” It rankled a little as Carole patted your hand condescendingly.

“It did inspire your identity, didn’t it?” Oh, if only she knew. You’d picked the name of your other best friend for a reason. You’d picked Floyd as more than a wish for affluence. You’d picked Floyd as a wish for success, for happiness. It hadn’t helped that you’d seen Beau Simpson’s fakely polite smile the entire time you were at the manor either. In fact, you’re pretty sure the pictures Carole has of Floyd Plantation are from his foray into Floyd Plantation without permission.

You’re still reeling as you recount the whirlwind that Carole Bradshaw had become when you were talking about the arrangements.

“God, Lin! Did the old witch let you make any choices on your own?” You have to laugh at that. It’s obvious the Tash is calling you in between photo shoots because you can hear so much noise in the background.

“It doesn’t feel like she’s letting me pick out much, Tash. But she is letting me pick my dress, of course.” Tash’s laughter makes you laugh just a little too, your existential dread lifting just a little at the sound. “Do you want to come with me?”

“You’re serious?!” She sounds like she’s jumping up and down in her makeup chair.

“You’re one of my best friends, Tash! Of course I want you there!”

The next four weeks are filled with conversations like that one - light and easy but not emotionally fulfilling. You’re surrounded by more people than you ever have been in New York but you feel lonelier than ever. The night after your first wedding dress fitting, you give in to the urge and dial the number you’ve had in your thoughts ever since you left Pigeon Creek. Each ring makes the nerves and sorrow rise in your chest as you struggle to find the joy in planning this wedding. The days turn to weeks as you call and call and call. But when the busy tone turns into the announcement that the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected, you know it’s time. You’ve made your bed, it’s time to lie in it.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @leahnicole1219 @djs8891 @midnightmagpiemama @itsdesiree86 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster (6)

Pairing: Chan x Reader x Felix

Genre: Mafia

Warning: Language, Threats

Word Count: 1.3k

Taglist: @gloriajovicc @bluebeard67 @stephanieeeyang @mouseyboo @stayatinykatsy @thicccurls @thecutiepieme @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @kayleefriedchicken @msauthor @purple-bell @bluesiebirdie @jisunglyricist @skzdust @hash2013 @skzooluvr

@chloe-elise-2000 @jiminssluttyminx

Previous Chapters

“I can't believe Seojoon would do that.” You sigh, climbing into Chan’s car, crossing your arms in the passenger seat as Chan begins to drive away from the house. “Actually… Nothing seems to really surprise me anymore. Is everyone a monster?”

“He seems to be off his fucking rocker.” Chan snaps, gripping the steering wheel tight. “Call him, see if he'll meet us. We need to find out what the fuck is going on.”

You pull out your phone, dialing the number you unfortunately still had memorized. The line rings, and rings and rings. You hang up the phone and redial, trying one more time before you put your phone away.

“He's not answering.” You say, crossing your arms again. Fuck, your head hurt, it felt like your brain was spinning around in your head.

“We'll go back to the house and come up with a game plan.” Chan says.

“Can you.. just take me home?” You whisper. “I just need some time.”

“Y/N..” Chan begins. “I don't.. know if that's the best idea. You heard Jongin, there's more people out there after you.”

“I promise I will call you if anything happens but I really just need to be alone.” You say.

You could tell by the look on Chan's face he felt so uneasy about you being alone but you just didn't want to be around anyone right now. You needed to be surrounded by silence in your own space.

“Fine.” He hesitantly agrees, turning the corner towards your apartment instead of his family's house.

As Chan pulls into your apartment complex's parking lot, he hesitantly puts the car in park, really not wanting you to leave the car. He had a bad feeling about this but he knew how stubborn you were, he knew that nothing he could say would keep you from going.

“Please. Call me for anything.” He says, tilting his head to the side, giving you a small smile. You nod, leaning closely to place a small kiss on his lips before leaving the car, giving him a small wave as you walk in, leaving him behind.

You stick your key in your lock, opening the door to the dark. You walk in, closing the door behind you a familiar tense feeling of anxiety swirls in your stomach. You set your keys and things down on the kitchen table, flicking on the light.

“Fuck.” You gasp, stepping back, seeing Mia sitting at your table, her arms crossed. “What are you doing here?” You ask.

“I'm here to see you. I need to talk to you.” She says, coldly.

“Yeah I don't believe that. What do you want?” You ask.

“What do I want?” She sighs. “I want you to stop what you're doing.” She snaps. “Stop looking into this shit. You have no idea what the fuck you're getting yourself into. So just leave it alone, help me plan the wedding and drop it.”

“I can't drop it.” You scoff. The audacity she had to ask you to stop looking into the man who lied to you for years, the one who sent men to scare you, threaten you, your father. How could you just leave that alone? You couldn't.. you wouldn't and neither would Chan.

“Help you plan the wedding?” You yell. “Are you fucking psychotic or what? You lied to Felix about me, made him hate me, are forcing him to marry you and you want me to help you? You're fucking delusional.”

“Y/N this is the last time I'm going to tell you, to fucking drop it.” She snaps, pushing herself back from the table, standing up. “Or something bad is going to happen to you, I can guarantee you that.”

“Are you threatening me?” You ask.

“I'm telling you what's going to happen to you if you keep this shit up.” She says.

“Get out.” You tell her, walking up to her, getting into her face. “I know you're involved in whatever this shit, and I will tell you right now that I'm going to dig up every little dirty fucking secret that you're hiding.” You spit, walking towards your front door. You open it wide, motioning to her. “Get the fuck out.”

Mia scoffs, glaring at you as she storms out of your apartment. You slam the door behind her, yelling out in frustration as you grab your phone, dialing Chan's number.

“Y/N.” He answers. “Are you okay?”

“No..yeah..fuck, I don't know.” You groan, plopping down on your couch. “Mia was here when I got home.” You say.

“What? Why?”

“She told me to stop looking into things, because if I keep going she can guarantee that I'll end up hurt.”

“That's never going to happen.” Chan says.

“I knew you'd say that.” You half chuckle. “I don't know how to take it. She's never tried to look out for me before, so why would she do this now?” You wonder.

“I wish I knew.” He sighs.

“I just don't get it..” you pause. “Hold on, there's someone at the door.” You whisper.

“Keep me on the line, Y/N.” Chan insists.

“Yes I will.” You say, getting off the couch. You walk to your door and just as your hand hovers above the doorknob, the door swings open.

“What the fuck.” You gasp, a smiling Seojoon waltzing into your apartment.

“Miss me?” He asks, closing the door.

“It's Seojoon.” You whisper.

“I'm on my way. Don't hang up the phone.” He urges.

“What do you want?” You ask, backing away from him.

“I want to know why you told your sister you won't be backing off?” He sighs. “None of this concerns you.. not really at least.”

“That doesn't matter. It involves people I care about.” You snap. “And now I'm going to expose as much of you and whoever else as I can.”

“People you care about? Who? Chan and Felix? Those two aren't fucking worth anything and I'll make sure they know it.”

“Calm, Y/N...” Chan says. You can hear the car speeding down the road. “don't aggravate him.”

“Y/N!” Seojoon screams, slamming his hand down on your kitchen table. “You're not fucking listening to me and I'm gonna say, it's in your best fucking interest to listen.”

“Why? Cause you're a cop and I have to listen to you?” You smile.

“W-what?” He asks, shaking his head. “I'm not.. a cop.”

“Oh you're not? Just like you didn't pay people to terrorize me and talk shit about my father?” You ask.

“Oh fuck, whatever. Yeah I'm a cop, and yeah nothing in our relationship was real, and yes I was getting close to you to find out things about your father. I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner.” He chuckles.

“3 years you spent with me, and you didn't even ask about my father, you didn't want to meet him, absolutely nothing, so I'd say you weren't doing a very good job.” You say.

“Believe me, I got alot done when I was working as a ‘paramedic’.” He chuckles. “But I'm going to tell you one last time, back the fuck off or I'll make you.”

“Are you threatening me?” You ask, a little shocked but not really.

“Yeah I am. So you better listen when I tell you to fucking stop. The wedding has to happen. The merger has to happen.” He says.

“Why? Why does Felix need to marry Mia? What does anyone gain from that?” You ask.

“That's none of your concern.” He says. “but I'm serious.” He pauses, walking towards the door. “back the fuck off.” He finishes, leaving quickly. You stand in the middle of your kitchen for seconds, minutes, hours… you weren't entirely sure. Long enough for Chan to come running into your apartment, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you allow yourself to cry, sobbing into his shirt.

“It's okay... Felix will be fine.. the wedding can happen… we'll get it figured out.” He sighs.

“Absolutely not.” You sniffle, moving away from him. “We're taking them all fucking down.”

[this-is-moony-lovegood]

OK, genuine question. Has anyone read a fic where it’s a buddie x princess diaries AU? If so, please reply to this so I can read it. If not, I need you to hear me out, because I need someone to write this ASAP and I don’t have time for it.

I’m thinking that Eddie has to be our Mia. The reason for that is I need Isabel to be our queen Clarice Rinaldi. This Ramon went to college in the United States and met Helena. While he was there, they fell in love and he decided that he didn’t want to be king anymore. If it meant he got to be with her. He graduates college he Genovia and goes to the states. When Isabel sends someone after him, they find that Helena is pregnant with Eddie. This would imply that Eddie is the oldest child, even if we don’t actually know if that’s the case for this to work. Eddie is going to need to be the heir to the throne.

So the story picks up where Ramon has died relatively recently, maybe within the last year? And Isabel and her security team, which consist of Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and Buck arrive on Eddie’s doorstep. at this point, let’s say that Christopher is six, and that Shannon has either died or has left them. When Isabel and the team show up there essentially saying that it is time for Isabel to step down and that she needs Eddie to take the throne of Genovia because he is the rightful heir. This is also assuming that Ramon is the oldest child, even if Pepa is most likely the oldest child in Cannon. Ramona is the oldest it would mean because Eddie exists in the first place, he would have claim to the throne before her. Kind of like the only reason that Prince Harry would have the throne is if all of Prince William children were to die. Does that make sense?

I’m kind of fuzzy on whether or not you tell the full story of the first Princess diaries, because I don’t feel like this would work very well. I think that this only functions if Eddy is a little bit older like 24 to 26. So we can go with the whole high school plot. So instead, I feel like we introduce the fact that this is how Eddie becomes the crown prince of Genovia and then we do a skip. So with the story, I think we jump up to essentially where we are in the second Princess diaries movie. So essentially Parliament is telling Mia, or in this case Eddie the only way that Eddie can take the throne is if he is married. However, instead of having Eddie fall for someone who could potentially take the throne, we had to do with the fact that he’s already head over heels for buck. I don’t think that Buck or Eddie are aware of each others feelings at this point, so they have been dancing around it. Essentially since Eddie came to Genovia Buck and Eddy have been really close because Buck is part of Eddy personal security team. So we have to go through the business of Eddie trying to find a wife with the help of the team? I’d like to think that maybe we can put Athena as Isabel‘s chief of staff, while Bobby is the head of security. Anyway, they do the whole slideshow presentation and the team end up picking Marisol. So Eddy is having to go through with this engagement/potential marriage, while simultaneously in love with Buck.

My whole reasoning for this is I would love to see a scene where they end up, kissing in the garden and falling into the fountain, and then dealing with Athena‘s wrath after that. And then I really want to see an archery scene where Buck is helping Eddie learn archery, because he still pretty new to this whole princely thing and does not know, how to shoot a bow and arrow properly. Bonus points if we have Christopher laughing in the background at Eddie’s miserable archery skills. And then I really want the scene where you would have Buck throwing rocks at his window and then they sneak out and have their date under the tree and wake up into their arms, and then it’s spoiled by paparazzi. And of course you have to have the big wedding where Eddie has to say Marisol I’m “sorry I’m not gonna marry you because I don’t need a queen at my side to rule a country I love.” But then Eddie and Buck afterwards regardless.

Do we see the vision? Because I need someone to write this if it has not already been written. And if it has, like I said before, send it to me!

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

AU Idea! (Just Don't Tell Aunt Rhody)

I am not gonna do anything with this (well, not yet, anyway), I just want to share it.

So...this came to me when I recalled Ford's 'Please Come' postcard. It actually reminded me of Resident Evil 7, when Ethan receives that 'Come get me' email.

Once I made that connection, I started to imagine Stan and Ford's reunion at Gravity Falls structuring more similarly to Ethan and Mia's in Resident Evil 7, with Stan in place of Ethan and Ford in place of Mia. Imagine a scene similar to Ethan finding Mia, where instead of being threatened at arrowpoint by Ford, Stan finds Ford unconscious somewhere. One point leads to another and Ford (under the partial control of Bill due to sleep deprivation) attacks Stan.

The clear difference here is that they are brothers while Ethan and Mia are married. And without a crazed, mold infected family.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Seems like everything this girl touches fails and Chris has been going downhill since associating with her.

I’m not into tarot and psychics but I came across a few over the years due to the whole FS talk and many claimed 🐟 was on the way years ago but no one believed it and also a few claimed once fish 🐟 was in the picture, that if she and he continued whatever this is…..it wouldn’t end well for her.

I have to wonder if this girl tried to become his FS based on online readings and if FS is real and the readings are semi accurate……abba might’ve set the stage for Chris’ soulmate to step into the picture, not sure how but whatever woman he gets after this mess will be a breath of fresh air compared to her.

I just wish this marriage thing made sense, like team real claims it’s real, yet Chris himself seems so idk lost. If he wanted this I’d assume he’d be gloating with them but he’s MIA and his actions after confirming said “weddings” reek of ……I’m lying and nothing happened but check out my loose ass ring….oh and Dodger is my soulmate, like who the fuck says that while being in a serious relationship?

Yes! This is what I mean! Thank you, An🫶n.

Is it weird that I sound like a teacher in an overenthusiastic class discussion? Or do I miss school that much?😅

Anyway, the FS thing makes sense. Chris has sunk low with Albitch, so the next girl has got to be the "good soul" he's been looking for. And all I want is for Chris to get out of this rut, and this badly made pr shit, and into the arms of his One.

I get that getting the One is hard, most people don't even find them, but bro, this is really a prime example, and I hope she's worth the wait, for the sake of the Fandom. And I hope she's a goddess, able to heal us and him.

Until then, Imma continue to shit on Team Real, for continuing to hang on to their flimsy narratives. Like, I get y'all are fans of Chris. But you're also supporting a racist Nazi who's been baiting the whole Fandom for years.

Y'all are blind to him not looking like Chris at all! The guy has aged gracefully, until said bitch came into the picture and aged him 10 years in 6 months...

And they seriously adore a relationship wherein the guy is flirting with other women, and the girl is being naked for other men, and they look miserable instead of being cute, like Zawe and Tom? Zawe and Tom are goals, Albitch and Chris ain't it.

And if y'all still don't believe me. Please look at the fact that Dodger and East, who died, get mentioned by name, have better, more heartfelt, mentions than his own "wife". And tell me that that doesn't scream, "My dogs are the loves of my life. Far better than anything in this whole wide world. Including the woman I supposedly married".